Astral Point: Summoners Dimensional War

"Navigator, you have an incoming call from Bambin4Channel."

When Luna informed me about the call from Bambin4Channel, my body tensed up. "A call?" I asked, barely able to believe it. Text messages were one thing, but a call? This took the interaction to a whole new level.

"If I answer, will my face or profile be visible?" I asked quickly, making sure all security protocols were in place.

"No, Navigator. Your profile is locked, and this call will proceed in anonymous mode," Luna replied, her voice as calm as ever.

I let out a deep breath. There was a strange discomfort in this situation, but curiosity was beginning to outweigh it. After a moment of deliberation, I slid the screen to accept the call.

As soon as I answered, the system screen in front of me shifted, revealing the face of a young girl. Her hair was tied back in a simple style, her face filled with panic, and her eyes darted around as if searching for something.

"Hello? Are you the one who got my message? What's your username?" she asked quickly, skipping any pleasantries.

"I'm the Navigator," I replied flatly. "No small talk. Get to the point—why are you asking for help?"

She let out a sharp sigh, almost like a scoff. "How can I trust someone who won't even show their profile?" she asked, a hint of irritation in her tone.

I frowned. "You sent a broadcast message to every player. And now you want to talk about trust?" I shot back, though internally, I weighed her argument carefully.

She shook her head, looking increasingly frustrated. "If you won't reveal your profile, how do I know you're not another player trying to set me up?"

I paused for a moment, thinking. Revealing my profile was certainly a risk, but something about the way she spoke made me feel she wasn't lying. Then a memory flashed through my mind—a video I'd seen online. A popular channel in the gaming community.

I squinted slightly. "Bambin4Channel," I murmured, almost in disbelief. "You're... that VTuber? Bambina from the video platform?"

She froze, then looked straight at the camera. "Yeah, that's me!" she said proudly, as if this was some significant moment for her. "But I don't have time to entertain fans like you. Unlock your profile, or I'm not talking any further."

I stayed silent, evaluating the situation. If she really was Bambina, it could explain some things. But then again, flaunting her status as a public figure could also be a tactic to gain trust. After a moment's hesitation, I decided to unlock my profile.

"Alright, I'll unlock it. But you'd better explain the situation quickly."

Her expression changed the moment my profile was displayed on the screen. She stared at it for a few seconds, and then her cheeks turned a faint shade of red. "Wow... not bad," she said, half-joking, before her expression shifted to one of amusement. "But... that name? UwoghCunny123? Seriously?"

I exhaled deeply, feeling slightly irritated. "That name has been around for a long time. Let's not dwell on it. Now explain why you need help," I said, suppressing my annoyance.

She started laughing, clearly trying to stifle her amusement. "Seriously, that name is terrible. Who even uses something like that?"

"Focus, Bambina," I scolded firmly, trying to steer the conversation back to the issue at hand.

She finally nodded, though her expression still showed traces of humor. "Alright, alright. Listen, I really do need help. My combat units are trapped in a dungeon in the Esverita kingdom. I didn't know who else to call, so I broadcast that message."

I studied her closely, searching for any signs of deceit. So far, she seemed honest—albeit a bit scattered.

"Fine, give me the details," I said flatly, though inwardly I already braced myself for the chaos this would involve. "Where exactly are your units trapped, and how did they get there?"

Bambina—she preferred to be called Bambi—sighed deeply. "They're stuck inside a dungeon. Somewhere in a mid-level domain. I sent them to complete an adventurer guild mission there," she said, sounding a bit sheepish.

"Adventurer guild mission?" I asked, making sure I hadn't misheard.

"Yeah," she answered quickly. "I thought it was a standard mission. I left everything to them—strategy, decisions, all of it. But it turns out the dungeon is a domain, and... well, now they're trapped in there."

I closed my eyes for a moment. Of course, I thought. Classic case of a casual player who didn't think things through. "You left all the decisions to your units?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

"Yeah. Isn't that their job? They're combat units," she defended herself, though I could hear some hesitation in her voice.

I let out a long sigh, trying to restrain myself from immediately criticizing her. "Bambi, listen carefully. Astral Point might look like a game, but trusting your units to make all the decisions without giving them clear instructions is foolish. If the dungeon is a domain, they would need a specific strategy to clear it."

She was silent for a few seconds. "But... they're strong! I thought they could handle it."

I shook my head slightly, even though she couldn't see me. "Two units. You sent two units without any preliminary survey, no analysis, no additional support. And what's their rarity?"

Bambi went quiet again, her voice dropping as she replied, "One SSR and one R."

I immediately sat upright, barely believing what I'd just heard. "Are you serious? You sent your only SSR into a dungeon without scouting, alongside a throwaway unit? Even an N-rank unit would've been better suited for a task like this!"

"But I don't have any N-rank units left!" she retorted, sounding a bit offended. "All my N-rank units are dead! I sent them on earlier missions, and now I only have the SSR and R left. I didn't have a choice!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my frustration in check. "So you sent your one and only SSR to speedrun a domain dungeon? Without analysis, without studying its hazards? Do you realize how reckless that sounds?"

"I didn't know it was a domain!" she shot back, her voice growing panicked. "I thought it was just a regular dungeon. Besides, I—I'm new to this game!"

I stayed silent, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. "Alright," I said finally, though the frustration in my tone was still evident. "Here's what we're going to do. First, I need more information about the dungeon. Second, we have to find a way to extract your units without losing them. And lastly, stop making impulsive decisions. This isn't some casual mobile RPG, Bambi. This is much more serious than that."

She fell silent for a moment before sighing. "Fine, I get it. But please... just help me, okay? I really don't want to lose them."

She still looked panicked, though she tried to hide it behind a firm tone. After ensuring the initial data on the domain was being transmitted, I decided it was time to bring up something important.

"One more thing before I help," I said, keeping my tone serious yet calm.

"What now?" Bambi asked, her frustration clear.

"I want payment," I said without hesitation.

She froze for a moment, then frowned. "Payment? Are you serious? Payment for what?"

"For this mission. I want 1,000 Moondrops, right now," I said bluntly. I knew the demand might sound excessive, but this was part of the game.

Her eyes widened in shock. "1,000 Moondrops? Are you insane? That's a huge amount!"

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me. "1,000 Moondrops is nothing compared to the value of the SSR unit you sent into that domain. You know as well as I do that getting an SSR is pure luck. How much longer will it take for you to get another if you lose this one?"

"I know SSRs are important, but that amount... You're seriously asking for that much just to help save my combat units?" Her voice grew angrier, but I wasn't fazed.

I leaned closer to the screen, making it clear I wasn't joking. "I'm serious. You need additional units for this mission, right? With 1,000 Moondrops, I can summon one or two new units to support the mission. It'll increase our chances of success."

"But 1,000 Moondrops doesn't guarantee you'll get an SSR!" she countered, trying to find a flaw in my argument.

"Exactly," I nodded. "But this isn't about getting an SSR. It's about making sure your existing SSR doesn't get lost. The choice is yours. Pay now, or risk losing that unit forever."

She went silent, and I could see her expression shift—from anger to doubt. She knew I was right. There was no guarantee she'd get another SSR, especially if this was her only one. Her face flushed with a mix of anger and helplessness.

"1,000 Moondrops is a small price to save your SSR," I added, ensuring she understood I wasn't kidding. "Think of it as an investment in your future in Astral Point. If you lose this SSR, you know how hard it'll be to recover, don't you?"

"I hate this," she muttered softly, almost inaudibly. She glared at me with anger but eventually gave in. "Fine! I'll pay you, but only because I don't have any other choice!"

I smirked slightly. Could've just agreed from the start, I thought. But I simply replied flatly, "Wise decision. Send it now, and we'll begin immediately."

A few seconds later, a notification popped up on my system screen. [1,000 Moondrops received from user "Bambin4Channel."] I closed the notification and turned back to Bambi. "Alright, I'll prepare additional units and a rescue plan. We'll discuss the details shortly."

Luna glanced at me with a slight furrow of her brows, looking skeptical. "Is this really the right call?" she asked, her voice calm but full of doubt. "You're gambling the success of this mission on gacha luck?"

I smirked, crossing my arms. "Luna, I know exactly what I'm doing. The gacha rates in Astral Point might be brutal, but I've memorized them inside out. Trust me, even if I don't pull an SSR, I'm confident the units I summon will be perfect for this situation."

She sighed heavily, like a teacher tired of dealing with an overconfident student. "Let's hope you're right," she murmured. "But I still feel there's too much risk in this plan of yours."

"Risk is always part of the game," I replied nonchalantly. "But I've made it this far as a free-to-play player. I know how to maximize my odds. Gacha isn't just about luck, Luna. It's about understanding patterns, calculating probabilities, and relying on a bit of veteran intuition. Trust me, I've got this."

With that, I opened the summon screen and pressed the button to roll the gacha. Lights swirled in front of me, displaying the familiar colors and patterns. My adrenaline spiked, though I kept my composure. This had to work. It just had to.

When the process was complete, the system screen displayed the stats of a new character: a man clad in light armor with a noble family emblem on his chest. He looked valiant, though his youthful face still carried an air of innocence. He knelt before me, gazing up with respect.

"Are you the one who summoned me?" he asked, his voice steady yet respectful.

I smiled in satisfaction. "Yes, I'm the Navigator. Welcome to the team."

The knight stood tall, awaiting his next orders. I glanced at his profile screen. His stats were perfect for the mission: high endurance, decent attack power, and attribute bonuses suited for a damage-dealing environment. Just what I needed.

"Your name will be added to the party soon," I told him. "For now, we're focusing on your mission. You'll be deployed to rescue a team currently trapped in a dungeon. Don't worry, I'll guide you every step of the way."

"I'm ready, Navigator," he replied without hesitation.

I immediately accessed the enhancement screen, spending some of the resources I'd saved up to level him to 10. Not too high, but enough to ensure he wouldn't falter against the dungeon's threats.

Before proceeding, I reopened the communication screen with Bambi. Her face appeared, looking slightly calmer—or maybe just too exhausted to stay angry.

"Done?" she asked, her tone almost flat.

"Done," I replied casually. "I've summoned an additional unit and made sure he's ready for the mission. My team will be heading to your units location shortly to extract them from the dungeon."

She hesitated, her expression uncertain. "And you're sure this will work?"

I nodded, a faint smirk on my face. "I can't guarantee anything in life, but this time, the odds are significantly in our favor. Tell your team to stay put and avoid doing anything that might worsen the situation. All they need to do is wait."

She sighed, still looking a bit annoyed, though I knew she had no choice but to trust me. "Fine. I'll let them know."

Closing the communication, I shifted my focus back to the mission screen. Everything was in place. My unit was on the move, and adrenaline coursed through me. This wasn't just about helping a panicked player, I thought. It was about proving that experience and strategy far outweighed pure luck.

***