"Did we have a barbecue party today? Why are the researchers dissecting pork ribs?"

"They’re just testing the incineration turret. It was used as a target during the max-power test, which explains the scorched exterior."

"I didn’t expect a Defense Department research facility to be developing weapons in violation of the Geneva Conventions."

It was 5 a.m., still the dead of night. Despite Janet's sharp remark, her counterpart barely reacted. After all, she was well aware of it. The ultra-high-performance storage device brought in via diplomatic channels contained the Icarus Gear data—and 'things' like this were part of it.

Even though the device hadn't been developed yet, the fact that they were here to see a prototype created by another world's DARPA seemed absurd enough to blur the line between sense and nonsense. The word "incineration turret" alone was enough to throw off even the cold logic of the Iron Lady.

Even though the place had been ventilated thoroughly, the lingering scent was still unmistakable. Visiting the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency in the early hours and catching a whiff of what seemed like late-night snacks was enough to make anyone feel disoriented.

After a while, however, the sight of the operational turret firing was enough to completely wipe away any trace of sleepiness.

— Brrrrrt!

"How long does it take from deployment to fire support?"

"If the target has been pre-identified through the integrated UI, under one second. Otherwise, it takes some time to identify the target. The turret also has partial camouflage capabilities, making it surprisingly survivable."

"The firing rate is around 800 rounds per minute, but it can be adjusted freely based on user input."

"Hmm."

A piece of equipment meant for urban warfare. It would have limited performance in open desert areas like Central Asia or South Asia, places where just standing around can wear you down. However, in large metropolitan areas like New York, its effectiveness in combat would be significant.

Looking at it from the perspective of the Secretary of Defense, such limited functionality was not exactly a selling point. In fact, it was more of a disadvantage.

However, she wasn't entirely disappointed. She remembered that there were still more effective pieces of equipment left to review.

"What about the other devices?"

"We’ve produced one prototype of each. I'll show you the pulse. Please put on these goggles."

Janet accepted the goggles handed to her by a researcher. They were digital goggles currently supplied to the U.S. military, capable of displaying a basic UI system on the battlefield.

The word "pulse" appeared in small letters at the upper right corner of the display, synchronizing with the system. In the test area before her, makeshift buildings suddenly materialized, forming walls, interiors, corners—essentially a kill box for close-quarters combat simulation.

Two researchers, armed and ready, moved with practiced precision, taking cover behind walls. Through the goggles, a golden concentric wave emanated from a device hanging on one of the researchers' shoulders.

In that instant,

— [Alert: Unidentified personnel detected // 4 individuals.]

Janet could see the real-time silhouettes of enemies moving behind the walls through the goggles. Not only that, but the interior structures were also visible.

There were two silhouettes that seemed like hostages and two more hiding behind wooden planks, waiting for an opportunity. Before they could react, the two researchers emerged from cover and pulled the trigger, shattering the planks and reducing the enemy figures to polygons.

The scene was a reenactment of something she had seen before.

"It’s like watching an impossible story come to life."

Revolution beyond innovation.

Here was a way to significantly reduce casualties in urban combat. But just as the thought crossed her mind, a message appeared on the goggles accompanied by a crackling sound. Without needing further analysis, she knew what "overload" meant.

It was only natural, given that this skill required the Icarus Gear as a prerequisite.

"We still have a long way to go."

"Indeed. Output, real-time display, UI sharing... Without the Icarus Gear, these expensive goggles will be disposable. However, we’ve grasped the basics of the principle, and we can start downgrading them soon. Let’s move on."

The test area quickly deconstructed itself. This time, a mannequin with skin-like material and a dome-shaped shield appeared, with a machine gun across the way, ready to fire.

Apart from the unique device that looked like a wasp nest rolling on the ground, there wasn’t much to note.

But she knew what it was.

"The Hive."

"Yes. We’ll demonstrate it along with the shield technology."

"Is it worth the expectation?"

"You won’t be disappointed."

— Trrrrrrrrrr!

The machine gun fired.

Bullets sparked and ricocheted as they twisted or were blocked in mid-air. The shield held strong for about 30 rounds without flinching, something she hadn’t seen before.

Turning to ask,

"This is a different concept from the shield I was expecting."

"Unfortunately, we couldn’t replicate the shield technology embedded in Icarus Operators' gear. That requires a synergy of computing power, network integration, and a dedicated power field, none of which we currently have."

"Then what is this?"

"We had to enlarge it significantly from the original design. With the manufacturing capabilities DARPA currently possesses, we couldn’t make it any smaller."

"Hmm."

As the firing ceased, the shield overloaded after about 90 rounds, leaving the mannequin with several superficial cuts. A message about the need for nanomachine recharging hovered near the red-hot generator.

But then, with a cheerful sound, something glowing green floated mid-air. A Hive bullet popped out and struck the machine, starting the recharge process and healing the small cuts.

Instead of calling it unbelievable, she, who had witnessed America’s cutting-edge technology firsthand, simply said,

"How effective would the Hive be on severely wounded personnel?"

"With 45 micro-explosives inside, using about a third should suffice to get them moving, albeit not fully recovered. Sadly, a revival-specific Hive is beyond our current capabilities."

"Is it a technological issue?"

"Yes. Honestly, without our prior contact with Eugene, none of today’s prototypes would be operational."

"Keep going."

Technology that seemed almost magical continued to unfold.

Oxidizers that ate through metal, basic nanites, vaporized napalm, chemical projectors that could deliver healing or damage, seeker mines, holographic projectors, and more.

More than half were useful only in special scenarios, but on the flip side, fewer than half could be broadly applied to almost any combat situation.

Adjusting her assessment of this world’s DARPA capabilities, she feigned indifference as she asked,

"How did you manage to produce these prototypes in such a short time?"

"Designs and software were included. Some devices couldn’t be made without specialized equipment, but others just needed slight adaptation. But even a month was tight... no one here has been home for quite a while."

"...."

So that’s the result.

Sadly, she couldn’t sympathize with their difficulties, as she herself had rushed to DARPA at dawn, barely dressed.

With a slight nod, she added,

"Remove the competition proposals from the other defense contractors and research institutions. Let’s claim this as an in-house development."

"Haha, you always have your work cut out for you."

"After some rest, dive into the research. Once I step down from my position, keep this within DARPA and out of the Pentagon."

"Of course, Madam Secretary."

Whew.

Despite arriving at dawn, the sun was rising as she left.

It seemed she’d be heading to the office early today.

“... It’s honestly enviable how the players don’t need to bring extra clothes. Icarus provides almost everything.”

“You make it sound like they don’t give Minah anything.”

“Hehe.”

Ten days until departure.

With a remarkably light suitcase in front of her, she checked her e-passport and plane tickets. Six first-class seats had been reserved since last year, apparently by an airline under contract with Icarus, keeping up to six seats reserved for this time of year.

Last year, half had been canceled, but this year all six seats would be used by final participants—including Harmony, who paid for a first-class seat herself.

The conversation with Minah over the phone was part of this saga.

“I read the handbook given to the Korean reps. It’s like a walking billboard. No wonder you won’t need the clothes you packed from Korea.”

“Yeah, that’ll be rough for Dice and the others. I’ll probably wear whatever they give me, at least on top.”

“Well, Eugene, I’m sure New York has designers who can refit your outfits. They probably won’t want to leave your tail out, though.”

“Please tell them to skip it. It gets cold when the tail’s out.”

“Oh...! Haha!”

Ugh.

Why does everyone seem to enjoy seeing me embarrassed or in awkward situations? Dice even said we should get hot soup when it’s freezing cold. And when I suggested trying the Anaconda Twist, he immediately wanted to meet tomorrow—ridiculous.

Everyone’s going a little crazy.

Either way, that’s how things were going around me. What started in the August heat had rolled this far. The world really does seem to work itself out once you get started.

“We’ll see each other soon at Incheon Airport. Do you mind if I stay over at your place the day before?”

“Why do you all say the same thing?”

“Did they also ask if that person’s staying over?”

“...”

“Oh dear.”

Silence was as good as confirmation.

Of course, the house was spacious enough, so it wasn’t a big problem. It just felt odd that my place had become a gathering spot.

And then, as if casually discussing lunch plans, Harmony added,

“I plan to stream early on the day of departure.”

“What stream?”

“Well, since we’ll be showing our real selves in the U.S. anyway, I thought we’d make it a surprise reveal. Dice is on board too.”

“Ah…”

A brief silence followed.

Then Harmony added,

“Well, whether someone told me not to, I’d probably do it anyway. Dice said SSM has already approved his face reveal, right?”

“Yes. We’ve been discussing it for a while because we share similar concerns. I doubt many will be watching at around 5 a.m., though.”

“...You’re going to be flooded.”

“Fair point.”

Many in Turkey live with reversed schedules anyway—I didn’t say it out loud, but the idea that the night owls who haunt the early hours would flock in was more than plausible.

Thinking about it, Harmony had done a face reveal before. Now she does late-night mukbangs openly. But it wasn’t always like that. After tidying up, I asked, and she replied,

“I got over ten thousand viewers during my first face reveal. I can’t even imagine the chaos that’ll ensue when you go public, let alone with Dice.”

“I think I get it.”

But my fingers were already moving.

I began with the title, then wrote out the announcement briefly, focusing on the essentials. With subtle hints about the important parts, I wrapped it up.

The final title read:

‘A small surprise awaits this Saturday.’

A brief notice about an early stream with guests and a quick session before leaving for the airport. Harmony had alerts set for my personal site, so she quickly checked it.

After a while,

“... Eugene.”

“Yes?”

“This is why people say you’re such a menace.”

...Wasn’t that an adequate announcement?

Unfortunately—my thoughts were brutally suppressed by Harmony, and within 30 seconds, I had to amend the stream start time. The first comment under it was a hissing emoji from Harmony.

The path to becoming a seasoned streamer seemed as long as ever.