Fenrir Translations
"Ugh..."
What time is it?
10 a.m. It was one of those rare days when I’d slept way too much. Even before opening my eyes, the loud pinging of incoming emails dragged me out of dreamland. Pushed back into reality, I opened my eyes, squinting against the light.
Hovering above the bed was a holographic pop-up. It wasn’t my work email, but my personal one—the one I had submitted to the organizers of the streamer competition. The email, received precisely at 10 a.m. on Monday, detailed the tournament scheduled for next Monday, covering everything from the maps and scoring system to the ranking breakdown. Part of me wondered why it had to be sent this early, but really, it was just that I had overslept.
Rumbling sounds.
I threw off the blankets and got out of bed. With the heat barely on, the house wasn’t too cold. As we neared November, the weather was getting chilly, especially in the mornings and evenings.
Thinking about the cold weather reminded me of Teacher Yujin. He’d probably have the heat on already. I imagined visiting his house in winter and finding him coiled up like a snake, all wrapped in blankets.
I never used to like snakes, but they’re starting to grow on me.
And so, I let my mind wander a bit from reality.
"Ugh, I really don’t want to exercise..."
But if I skipped it today, I’d just want to skip it even more tomorrow.
Dressed in simple workout clothes, I headed to the gym. I probably should’ve eaten a little breakfast, but since I’d woken up late, there was no helping it. After working up a good sweat, I headed back home.
I quickly showered, got ready for lunch, and by the time I was done, it was almost noon. Since I was on a diet, lunch was a salad. I poked at the tasteless vegetables with my fork, swallowing them with some effort, while going over the progress updates I hadn’t checked yesterday.
In short, I looked over my YourSpace management, stayed in touch with my editor, reviewed upcoming content, and re-checked details for the competitions I’d be participating in.
'The stream starts at 6 p.m. as usual today…'
But I wanted to do something quick before that.
After finishing the salad and washing the dish, I didn’t think I’d need much time to digest. So, I sat at my desk, handling some overdue tasks for about 30 minutes. Then, with practiced hands, I grabbed my VR device, put it on, and entered the virtual world.
The ruined New York greeted me.
Barely taking in the atmosphere, I entered Domination mode. A quick look at the UI showed several people online, including squad members Limit, Hotteok, and Kimstone, among others. But no messages came through, which was likely an unspoken agreement to wait until 6 p.m. for a reunion.
Teacher Yujin had told me there was no need to climb higher in rank yesterday, but it felt odd to stay in the middle of TIER 2.
Hmm...
"As long as it’s not overkill... it should be fine, right?"
As long as I wasn’t sacrificing practice time, spending a few hours on ranked matches—about four or five hours in-game—wouldn’t be a big issue. Back when Yujin and I streamed together daily, our schedules were much more hardcore.
And besides, if I actually managed to hit TIER 1, Teacher might be secretly pleased, right...?
Not that I’m being selfish. It’s not like I suddenly got greedy just because I’d reached a high rank I’d never considered before.
So, let’s climb as fast as possible to avoid any future complaints.
And so began Harmony’s little not-so-little diversion.
It would be two hours before she heard from Kimstone, Limit, and Hotteok that Teacher Yujin was taking the day off.
"This is my first time seeing the real thing in action. If we brought this to the U.S., the Department of Defense and Congress would be shouting with joy."
"Seeing me and saying that right off the bat, isn’t that a bit much?"
"Haha. I’m just not very good with words. Sorry about that."
"A deep cover agent in Korea who’s bad with words? Now that’s a joke."
As mentioned, Harmony’s solo run was of little interest to Yujin today.
She had some important business to take care of.
"Yujin! Damn, you’re alive!"
"That’s not exactly something to joke about, but I’ll let it slide today. How’ve you been, John?"
The Icarus Gear beeped in sync with my heartbeat. The automatic scan was cross-checking my physical condition against the Icarus Network’s records for operators.
John 'Anchorite' Nakasone. Once with U.S. Cyber Command, he was adept at building and maintaining networks in both the physical and cyber realms, which made him an ideal candidate as an Icarus operator.
There were other things I knew about him and connections I could draw, but those weren’t important right now.
───Hug!
"It’s really good to see you, wow...."
"Gah, cut it with the bear hugs, you’re using Awakened strength!"
There was a cracking sound, but I ignored it and gave him a deep hug.
After a short reunion, we parted. He joked about wearing shoes indoors and quickly scanned the house layout. Meanwhile, the Icarus Gear kept up its constant warnings about the lack of a compatible device on him, which I discreetly silenced.
Naturally, his gaze returned to me. Even highly trained personnel have trouble controlling momentary unconscious reactions.
He placed a bulletproof laptop on the table and cautiously sat on the sofa.
Then he spoke.
"There are so many things I want to ask, Yujin. Of course, there’s a main purpose, but what I’m most curious about is..."
"Before that."
Crackle!
A faint noise and a tiny spark from the inside of John's collar. I moved over and grinned as I added,
"You should’ve told me in person, instead of using a bug. Otherwise, I’ll just break it now."
"These bastards, they even put a bug on my clothes?"
"Haha. I think I get what you’re curious about. You want to know what happened that day, right?"
"...."
A pause.
It was a straightforward question in a way. His silence was basically an acknowledgment that I had guessed correctly. I might not know how my funeral had gone, but the battle at Indian Point Nuclear Plant had ended in its collapse.
It was probably assumed my body would never be found.
Unfortunately, though, I couldn’t give him a clear answer either. Even I didn’t know how I made it back home. All I could offer was a vague answer that I’d been in a firefight when an explosion occurred, and somehow, I ended up here.
I left out the parts I couldn’t share.
Despite that limited response, he spoke as if it didn’t really matter.
"If that’s all there is to it, then there’s no need to know more. The important thing is that you accomplished your goal. Given how the Omega Virus situation has repeatedly defied humanity’s logic, what’s one more example added to the list?"
"Is that really alright with you?"
"When there’s no expectation of additional meaningful information, why press for more? Essentially, what you went through is closer to an incomprehensible event—like what Logan and Christopher experienced."
"Logan, Christopher...."
Buried memories.
The sharp shovel of words pierced the fragile sand of time, unearthing memories. But since it was someone else stirring them up, they would no longer remain secrets held by only me.
Perhaps one day, those two, and even Instructor Owens... maybe it won’t be too long until I see them again.
As if reading my thoughts, he chuckled lightly and added,
"Thanks to you breaking the bug, I can say this: there are plenty of people back home who are eager to meet you. For now, it’s enough to know that."
"..."
"But as you know, there are protocols and procedures in this world. Like how you need the proper attire to attend a ball—"
Clink.
He didn’t wait for me to reply, instead turning to the bulletproof laptop he’d placed on the table and opening it carefully. The screen powered on, displaying several floating icons.
With a click, an encrypted file began to run.
"So, before you head to the States, you’ll need to be prepared."
"Preparation... Could it be—"
"You’ve guessed correctly."
He pulled out an insignia hidden near his collar.
The Blue Badger of Delta Force.
The emblem, unique to U.S. SOCOM and specifically USARSOC, depicted a combat knife encased in an arrowhead. The insignia gleamed in the ceiling light.
A formal pronouncement followed.
"John Nakasone, callsign Anchorite, member of the 1st Special Actions Group, The Unit—a specialist in the Far East and a member of the local infrastructure team. By the authority vested in me by the U.S. Secretary of Defense, I hereby reinstate your status. Any objections or questions, Sergeant Yujin?"
"None, sir!"
"Then I officially welcome you back, oof… but no bear hugs!"
And with that, I pulled him into a fierce hug, which made him wince as if his whole body ached.
"Geez, why do you, Logan, and Christopher all love hugs so much? Anyway, what I’ve activated here is your personal record file stored in Korea. You’ll need to review it and make adjustments before discussing it with the U.S. personnel."
"Why did you bring it all the way here?"
"To put it bluntly, this file can’t be opened without your wristwatch."
Ah.
There was no need for more words. I knew what needed to be done.
Taking a deep breath, I manipulated the Icarus Gear. A hologram appeared, signaling that the bulletproof laptop had gained access. As the files began synchronizing, the laptop displayed a flurry of warning messages.
The core issue was that the laptop couldn’t handle the Icarus Gear’s processing power, causing it to overheat and overload.
But that quickly resolved itself. The authorized files opened, and a stream of information appeared on the screen.
As if on cue, he added,
"You can use this file as a guideline for making edits."
"MAVNI enlistment in the U.S. military, various accumulated experiences... MWTR? Metropolitan Warfare Tactical Response Unit? Is that a newly established unit?"
"Only on paper. It wasn’t formally created; we just reallocated the budget from a redundant unit. It’s a new unit formed by volunteers from former Icarus personnel scattered across TIER 1 and TIER 2 special forces within JSOC."
"That sounds far from just being ‘on paper.’"
"Naturally, there’s also a dedicated budget for training and maintenance. If we’re building a career from scratch, it has to be meticulously done."
I chuckled.
It was quite the meticulous setup. But despite that, I had to keep my emotions in check, feeling that any slip-up might lead to tears.
He continued,
"Of course, there are still some rough spots. You’ll need to use the Icarus Gear to refine the details smoothly. The training records for this unit will be adapted from past operations undertaken by Task Force Dagger, with cross-testimonies between team members to ensure consistency."
"So, my role would be…"
"You’ve got it figured out."
He pointed at the Icarus Gear, which was already making adjustments automatically.
Our gazes met.
"Sentimentality is nice, but I’ll need your help frequently from now on. This isn’t the end; it’s just the beginning. The real work starts here. And this won’t be limited to just covert operations; there will also be some public disclosures."
"Public disclosures?"
"As per the discussions back home, they’ll eventually release certain information linking you to the U.S. military. While it may cause you some temporary inconveniences, it’ll serve as a stern warning to anyone foolish enough to approach you."
A warning that says, “This person is a U.S. asset, so don’t even think about it.”
He was indirectly stating that I was under the protection of the eagle’s wings from this moment—perhaps even from before. I couldn’t help but smile. If that’s all, I could handle it.
...Though I was slightly uneasy about what methods they’d use and how annoying it might get.
"I’ll endure it."
"I’m sorry we had to take such a blunt approach. But if you end up being hounded by paparazzi when you visit the States, it won’t be easy for the DoD to provide follow-up support. Given the nature of this covert project, it’s not something the DoD can openly protect."
"I understand. It makes sense."
Simply put, that’s how it was.
This project to create a military career for me was something that shouldn’t have been allowed and wasn’t officially sanctioned. If I ended up tangled in a mess, the U.S. federal government wouldn’t be able to help me formally—maybe unofficially, but not in any official capacity.
So, they were preemptively protecting me to prevent anyone from making trouble.
It was a necessary step, one I’d have to accept with any associated downsides.
"That settles it."
He nodded.
In that moment, hands were extended from both sides.
Rough hands met soft hands.
"Sergeant Yujin ‘Viper’ Lee of Task Force Dagger, welcome back under the wings of America."
"It’s an honor."
In mid-to-late October, on a fine day with good weather,
today would be remembered as one of the best days of my life.