Blood, sweat, steel, tears, and the lingering smell of gunpowder all came to a halt with the grinding noise of rusted machinery. The vibration that had shaken their bodies finally ceased as the Rank Ship for the preliminaries—designed to eliminate 15 out of 16 people—came to a stop on the dry, barren land.

Only the hundred survivors remained, while the other 1,500 crew members disembarked, preparing for next year's event. But this didn't necessarily mean it was the end of everything. Much like how things become even busier after the stage ends, the eliminated were now bustling, preparing for the next competition.

Unlike the office workers who dragged their feet, reduced to ashes after the preliminaries, the teams still had a lot to do. This included SSM, and with the addition of Yujin to their roster, one could say their workload only increased.

Not just Dice, but anyone within SSM who had even received a single lesson from Yujin was now involved in this.

"Hey, Dogfood. The preliminaries are over, right? Go grab something delicious and take a break. I know an amazing barbecue place..."

"Ugh, I need to practice... Let’s go later..."

"...Aren't the preliminaries over? Why do you all look like you're about to collapse?"

Just like Dice, not everyone was an elite supported by both Yujin and SSM. Yet the coach never overlooked even a single player. One of those players was PigeonCheeseTangSuyuk, also known as Dogfood, one of the first users Yujin had encountered when she first arrived.

It was obvious that overseeing around thirty users simultaneously was a challenge, but the time spent with each individual was far from insignificant. With her extraordinarily keen insight, Yujin could pinpoint most problems within seconds or minutes.

After the curriculum, instantly transformed into documents via speech-to-text machines, was distributed individually, most of SSM’s pros voluntarily—or sometimes involuntarily—locked themselves in the shooting range, treating it like a closed training session.

The reactions from other teams watching this varied, but in summary, it could be described like this:

‘What the hell is wrong with them?’

To be frank, SSM wasn’t exactly known for producing outstanding results. They were often referred to as the "second-place team," always managing to achieve steady results even amidst the AP hurricane. They weren't Xi, who consistently produced results, nor TK1, who dominated the field. They were more of a back-and-forth, mid-tier team.

But after acquiring Yujin—almost for free—something started to change.

In the AP field, which was long considered Dice's sole domain, the fact that another user from the SSM squad advanced to KSM was already an unprecedented event for the other teams. And it didn’t stop there—overall, SSM’s users saw a slight increase in their average results during the preliminaries.

The important thing wasn't just the slight improvement. What was truly noteworthy was that in just a few short weeks, the team's growth had shifted upward, however slightly—and the analysts from rival teams weren't the kind of people to overlook that.

“We should have doubled the offer when we had the chance.”

This sentiment had become increasingly common.

What kind of magic did they perform to achieve such results? The fact that Yujin’s contract wasn’t official and could be renewed or ended depending on her wishes after the term was the only consolation for headhunters. Of course, considering her trajectory, there was always the possibility that Yujin might quit coaching after SSM.

What was even more peculiar was that this effect wasn't limited to just AP soloing.

Ratatatata!

“Squad in front! We’re at a disadvantage in a strength fight!”

“Damn it! The vehicle's tires are shot! They’re circling behind us!”

“No, they’ve blocked our retreat!”

Purposeful and calculated movements.

When encountering the enemy, it wasn’t about randomly spraying bullets at the cockpit and hoping someone died. It was about cutting off the retreat and applying calculated pressure, as if they had done it countless times before. It was the result of the countless times they had drilled Yujin’s words into their heads.

"Approach every engagement with intention and purpose." This advice shone even brighter in squad battles than in solo ones—and Yujin didn’t just offer words; she taught countless methods to apply them.

The "big picture" Yujin had created kept growing and growing, and it was now clearly reflected not just in solo matches but in duo and squad preliminaries as well.

However, from a broader perspective, this was just a ripple in the pond—it didn’t change the fundamental nature of the pond. Everyone was moving forward, whether it was the same as last year or different, in a good direction or a bad one. Each team faced their own results and continued to move forward.

And among them was Xi.

 

-[Virtual Live On.]

"Hello, everyone. It’s been a while since I’ve appeared on Xi's official broadcast. This is Corvus. Nice to see you all."

Not every professional gamer did broadcasts, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for them to make public appearances.

Even if they weren’t keen on personal streaming, the official broadcasts of the team provided an effective platform for those who didn’t particularly like being in the public eye.

A long, jet-black hair resembling a crow, and beneath it, a slightly cold-looking young woman. With the rise of virtual reality, many chose pretty avatars simply because they looked good. And professional gamers were no different in this regard.

As always, being pretty had many advantages.

"I’m not very good at talking, but since I’m the one chosen to host today’s Xi stream… I hope you’ll all bear with me."

Xi had a unique culture.

One of the team’s pro gamers would be randomly selected to act as the host for their weekly official broadcast. It was a team strategy to promote their players, and anyone from the second division upward was eligible, excluding trainees.

And, just as luck would have it, Corvus was the one chosen to be the host for today.

"KSM is fast approaching. Some of you might not know this, but the day before the match—on Friday—all 100 participants receive a pre-match briefing. It covers how the tournament will run, event matches, and stuff like that. It’s kind of like the ceremonies you’re used to seeing."

It was a kind of talk show where the host discussed the general topics written in the pre-prepared script. Of course, the viewership varied depending on the content, and even on who the host was.

Thus, next to the "On Air" sign, the viewership count was blank. This was an intentional measure to prevent hosts from feeling demotivated in case the number was low, but to Corvus, it just felt like she was talking into thin air.

But it didn’t matter much. She didn’t know how many people were watching, but she still had to give it her best.

"For those of you who follow me, you might already know, but I was lucky enough to be included in the KSM entry list this time. It’s been a tough week. So much happened..."

As she closed her eyes and remembered, of course, it was that day. Specifically, the day she was utterly humiliated by Yujin. How could she reflect on last week's preliminaries without bringing up that memory?

And unfortunately, the next topic also involved that incident.

"You all know what I’m talking about, right? Yes, that incident. Personally, it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced in Dark Zone. Sometimes I still think about it during matches."

The conversation naturally flowed into the second topic.

"But I’m sure many of you found it entertaining, right? I get it. I also enjoy seeing others get pranked, so I know the feeling. So, for all of you out there, Xi is preparing a special surprise."

With a flick of her fingers, a video popped up.

The logos of Icarus and Xi appeared on the screen, followed by a few words—Horror Cinematic. It was a compilation of clips showing various Xi players dying in all sorts of bizarre and unexpected ways, edited with eerie sound effects to create a horror-like atmosphere. Though it was meant to be an advertisement, it didn’t feel like one. Corvus had a clip in it as well.

The video had been completed some time ago. After reviewing it for any errors and getting final approval from the players involved, it was set to be uploaded to YourSpace in a few days.

Whether or not it could be considered an actual "advertisement" was up for debate, but the dice had already been cast. Now that she had opened this can of worms, she had to see it through to the end.

"This cinematic collaboration between Xi and Icarus… the theme is horror. A lot of people joke about Dark Zone being a horror game, and we really leaned into that. You’ll be able to find the video on YourSpace soon. We decided to ride that wave ourselves."

At that moment, the video started playing.

The chat must have exploded in panic. Unless they were die-hard horror fans, most people hated the feeling of fear. But like it or not, the 10-minute video would be uploaded to Icarus's official channel in a few days.

The composition was simple: several death clips edited together in a found-footage style. The colors and sounds were adjusted to create an unsettling atmosphere, with plenty of creepy background music and noises.

Corvus’s clip was one of the highlights, perfectly fitting the horror cinematic. A killer emerged from the flames, searching for his next victim with a firefighter’s axe in hand. It was classic, but that’s exactly why it remained timeless.

Donations started pouring in. The messages were predictable: "Please stop playing this," "I can’t handle this anymore," and so on. But the guideline required her to show at least one minute of the video as a preview.

After what felt like an hour but was actually just a minute, the donations slowed down as the video ended. Corvus resumed talking.

"Ha ha, did you all enjoy that? I hope you did."

Isn’t this why people love to prank others?

Even though she couldn’t see the number of viewers or chat messages, how could she resist teasing people? She covered her mouth with her hand, but it was hard to hide the smile creeping across her face. In short, Corvus had forgotten her past embarrassment and was now reveling in the joy of teasing others.

But then again, when hadn’t she done this? Stream viewers always seemed to love seeing streamers laugh at them.

With a click, another video donation popped up.

Corvus let out an involuntary gasp. It was Yujin—watching her own interview video.

With a radiant smile, Yujin began to speak.

"Well… I wonder where these strange nicknames keep popping up from."

"I’ll make sure to repay you for this new nickname… with interest. Of course, there’s no hidden meaning behind this, so let’s see each other again. I hope you make it to KSM."

“Hic…”

Corvus was the only one who hadn’t realized.

The time for reckoning was coming.

-[Identity verification in progress…]

-[Identity verification complete // Adrian B. Solomon]

-[Position verification complete // NSA Director]

-[Please enter your password // ICARUS]

.

.

.

-[Authentication complete.]

Hiss.

The door opened with a sound like air escaping, and a man walked inside. His average height and appearance were marked by the ravages of time. Beneath his graying hair, his sharp eyes surveyed the room. He wore a white shirt under a black two-button suit that accentuated his firm build.

The air from outside mingled with the atmosphere inside, carrying a distinctive scent. He took a short breath and glanced around the room. Including himself, there were only three people present, but if you counted the holographic participant, there were four in total.

Solomon’s eyes took in the others in the room. They were people he never should have met, but as their gazes met, vivid memories from the past flashed before his eyes. Names that he should never have known naturally slipped from his lips.

"Michael. Michael Kissinger."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you in person for the first time, Director."

"You don’t look like the man I remember. How have you been sleeping?"

"The Secret Service keeps me quite busy."

As expected, the resumes of everyone gathered here were impressive. Solomon turned his gaze to another man. Jordan Royden, a senior researcher at DARPA. All of Icarus’s technology should have passed through his hands.

And in the center, though only a voice could be heard through the hologram, Solomon knew who it was. The current Democratic Majority Leader in the Senate, and a few years later, the president who would be tasked with leading the United States through the aftermath of the Omega Virus—Henry M. Brayton, the most unfortunate president in history.

As they all took their seats, the conversation began.

"Looking good. How’s the job of NSA Director treating you?"

"Better than being unable to sleep due to terror threats."

"Same here. So, what’s the reason for this gathering? Forming a corporate cartel? That’s amusing. Should I propose cutting the NSA budget and reallocating it to public welfare in the next session?"

"Well, one of the members of that cartel is sitting right here, after being saved by them."

After some light banter, the conversation continued.

"Viper will be here soon. No more than two months. Don’t you think we should give them a little gift?"

"Go on."

"We’ll need to secure some strong backing. You’re the one who revised the MAVNI act, after all."

"And is that worth it?"

"He has confirmed possession of Icarus gear."

A stunned silence filled the room.

It was something only the NSA Director could know—a piece of technology officially sanctioned in an alternate version of the United States. That gear, which could legally infiltrate any network in the current U.S., had been accessed, and not even counterintelligence agencies could detect the logins.

Except for him, who had inherited the memories, no one else knew.

"Although it comes from another world, the fact is, as president, you signed off on it, and as Icarus's director, I authorized it. Based on its catalog specs, it could access every digital device in the country, including the Pentagon’s defense network and nuclear power plant systems."

"Whoever authorized that must have been insane."

"Well, then that means we have two insane people in this room."

Another short silence.

But soon, the atmosphere lightened as a cheerful laugh came from the hologram.

"Request a retrieval of that gear. Even though it’s biometrically locked, it’s better than having it fall into the wrong hands… Ah, was the election next year? If this had happened a year later, I wouldn’t have been able to accommodate such a huge risk. Lucky timing."

"Are you still considering running for president?"

"Why wouldn’t I?"

With a small chuckle, the conversation continued.

"It’s fortunate that the number of people saved by that adorable kid isn’t small. It won’t be too difficult. But let’s make sure the blowback doesn’t reach me. If there’s any fallout, I’ll smooth things over."

"The Department of Defense, the Treasury, Homeland Security, and JSOC are all involved. We’ll handle it cleanly, so there’s no need to worry."

"Good. I’ll get my heavy rear moving for the first time in a while. It’s been a pleasure. I hope the next time we meet, it’s for something just as entertaining, Director."

"The feeling’s mutual."

Click.

After the communication cut off, Solomon spoke again.

"So… any thoughts on how we should embellish Viper’s military career?"