"…Ah, um…"

"You're awake? Eugene already left. Breakfast time is over too."

Seo Yerin, 22 years old.

She had fully adapted to the time difference in just a few days of her first week in the U.S., sleeping in without a care. Maybe it was because she had been here once before last year, or maybe she was just well-rested, but either way, she didn’t feel an ounce of fatigue.

As she woke up, her disheveled appearance reflected the fact that Eugene’s bed was already neatly made. On top of the bed, there were a few handwritten words in Eugene’s characteristic neat and tiny script. Something about returning the day after tomorrow, or at the latest, before the second week started.

What should she make of this?

"Ugh, seriously. Why couldn’t she just hang out with me during the first week when there’s nothing to do?"

"She's popular, you know. Can’t help it. But at least you have me, right?"

"Of course, of course. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been bored to death…"

It wasn’t just a joke; it was the truth. If not for her companion, Dice would likely have spent all day logged into VR, living like a shut-in. With Eugene, Dice, and in the room next door, Michael, Gambit, and Ink, they were all divided into teams. If Harmony hadn’t shown up, Yerin would have been left wandering alone in this large space for days, not just one day.

Anyway, there was no point in trying to sleep more. She kicked off the covers and got up. Outside, the sky was clear, as if the snowstorm from the day before had been a lie. Not a cloud in sight, the blue sky shining brightly in the sunlight.

The time was 10:26 a.m. She quickly tidied her messy hair and slipped on the slippers scattered on the floor.

"Did you have breakfast?"

"Sort of."

"What did you do while I was sleeping?"

"I streamed. You know how when it's morning here, it’s evening in Korea?"

"Ah…"

Streamers actually think about time zones when they stream? She almost blurted something out without thinking, but realized it might come off as dismissive of Minah’s profession. So, she quickly adjusted her words and spoke more carefully.

"Does streaming help pass the time? I mean, I wouldn’t be as good at it as you, of course…"

"Well, since streaming is my job, I’m not sure how helpful my answer will be. But yeah, it definitely keeps you from being bored. I get to interact with tens of thousands of viewers."

"Tens of thousands? Wow…"

For the record, it wasn’t like Yerin had never been on a stream before. Even before she met Eugene, she’d made a few appearances here and there, and just last year, she’d done a number of interviews, which technically counted as streaming too. Not to mention, she had some experience appearing in unboxing videos recently. So, she couldn’t exactly say she was totally unfamiliar with it… but that was when Eugene was around.

However…

"Are you really interested?"

"I guess so… But tens of thousands of people, huh? Even though it’s not face-to-face, I wonder what it would feel like to be in front of that many people."

"Well, you won’t show anything good unless you clean up first, right?"

"Oh, right. I’ll go freshen up!"

It didn’t take her long to realize that Harmony had subtly baited her into cleaning up, probably to hurry her along. Classic Harmony, always playing psychological games like the pro she was. Not that it mattered—Yerin had taken the bait, so about 30 minutes later, she came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, to find Harmony already dressed and waiting to go out.

Wrapped up in her bathrobe, Yerin looked at Harmony with a confused expression.

"...What are you doing?"

"Let’s go for a walk. Ever been to Central Park last year?"

"I’ve been there… but I was busy practicing all day."

"Then this time, you should really get out and explore. You came all the way to New York—can’t stay cooped up in a hotel all day, right?"

...Ugh. She’d even picked up some of Eugene’s strange drive and determination. There was no way Harmony would let her stay in the room today. Resigned, Yerin sighed and headed into the cosmetic room to dry her hair with the wind machine—a device that blew air in all directions. After adjusting the settings to add some volume to her hair, she finished drying and began her basic skincare routine, making sure to lock in moisture since it was winter.

"Oh, did you know your clothes arrived? They’re already set up in the wardrobe, so just pick whatever you like. The manager mentioned it earlier this morning."

"Thanks. I would’ve been searching forever otherwise."

Harmony handed her a catalog, which made it easy to check what clothes were in the wardrobe without rummaging through everything. The pre-arranged outfit suggestions were a nice touch too, much like last year.

By the time they finished getting ready, it was 11:30 a.m. Dressed in a thick parka, scarf, and hat, a few holograms popped up in front of them as they stepped out.

"Food trucks?"

"Yeah. It’s been a while since we had street food, right?"

"You’re ordering, right? I can’t speak a word of English."

"You say that, but you look like someone who could pass for a native at an airport."

That’s just stereotyping. Yerin had dealt with similar assumptions for as long as she could remember and would probably keep dealing with them. Maybe it was time to buckle down and learn English—turning those misconceptions into reality seemed like the easier route.

As they reached the elevator, the external temperature was displayed: -6°C. Twice as warm as the previous days, but still undeniably cold. After informing the manager of their plans, they exited the lobby and started walking. The streets were bustling with New Yorkers in all sorts of winter gear, heading toward their own destinations, while Harmony led the way to the food truck she’d picked out in advance.

"Buffalo Baby? That’s an interesting name."

"They make grilled cheese sandwiches with buffalo chicken. It’s loaded with all kinds of stuff."

"Sounds like I’ll have to hit the gym after this."

"Ugh…"

Delicious food always came with a price.

Unfortunately, it was bitterly cold. Had they come six months earlier, they could’ve enjoyed their lunch on a bench in Central Park, but now, just standing outside for a minute was enough for their food to get cold. Thankfully, the area was full of temporary shelters and heated tents for people who wanted to enjoy their meals outside despite the cold. The food trucks had also set up windbreaks and heaters for their customers.

Fortunately, ordering went smoothly.

Soon enough, they were seated with their sandwiches. The moment Yerin took a bite, the intense flavors of the buffalo chicken and melted cheese filled her mouth, satisfying her hunger from both breakfast and lunch.

"Tasty, right?"

"Yeah, it’s good."

After a brief exchange of compliments, their conversation drifted to more mundane topics.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"You can apply to become an SSM trainee now."

"WHAT—?!"

Oh dear, that wasn’t the reaction she was expecting.

After frantically patting Minah’s back and offering her a glass of water to help her recover, Yerin wondered if she should’ve picked a less shocking topic.

"...Phew. Well, I guess it’s not completely out of the question…"

"I don’t know much about domination games, but based on your other game records, you’re Grandmaster tier, right? Considering how quickly you ranked up, just like Eugene did, you’ve got huge potential. Plus, with your growing fame, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already gotten offers."

"Ah, I haven’t been checking my emails lately. Coming here as a Dark Zone partner streamer meant I got a mountain of work all at once."

"Haha, I get it. Our clothes today are proof of that."

After a brief pause, Yerin added:

"You’re not seriously offering, right?"

"Of course not. But it would be fun to see you compete alongside Eugene next year, wouldn’t it?"

"That sounds more tempting than any offer from sponsors or other teams."

Of course.

But it wasn’t a serious suggestion.

As they each took another bite of their sandwiches, a thought crossed Yerin’s mind, though it wasn’t a particularly pleasant one.

"...That is, assuming Eugene plans to compete next year."

"Well…"

Harmony didn’t seem eager to discuss it, but it was something they couldn’t avoid forever. Eugene was someone with many secrets, and this was one of those topics that might come up when she wasn’t around.

After a long silence, Harmony spoke.

"...Then again, you never know. I’ve only known Eugene for about a month longer than you, and my experience with her is pretty limited… But from what I’ve seen, she’s not someone who would just disappear and leave us behind."

"Huh?"

"She might seem like she’s all business, but she’s actually really sentimental. If she were planning to disappear, she wouldn’t have invited us to her home or asked us to meet up and have dinner in real life."

...

Harmony had won this conversation.

Not that they were trying to win or lose, but still… Eugene’s actions, which couldn’t be easily explained by logic alone, seemed to support Harmony’s point.

"...Looks like I’ll be a pro gamer next year too."

"Really? Then I’ll follow Eugene to whichever team she goes to next."

"What?!"

What a ridiculous notion.

Clearly, Harmony didn’t reach the top tier of her profession through skill alone.

Anyway, the sandwiches were delicious, and they even had room to order another round while continuing their light-hearted conversation.

"Welcome, Ms. Eugene. The Secretary of Defense is waiting for you. We have a limousine ready."

"Ah, yes. Thank you."

Meanwhile, Eugene had arrived, ready to face the climax of her mission.

"It’s nice to finally meet you in person. It’s only been a day, right?"

"Yes, Madam Secretary."

"Stand tall. Shoulders back. You’re a Medal of Honor recipient, after all."

Right, of course. Just before boarding the car, she had been momentarily stunned when the Secretary of Defense saluted her outside the airport. Thankfully, no one around seemed to notice, and she managed to recover quickly.

And so, for the first time, she found herself inside the Secretary of Defense’s unofficial protocol vehicle. Unofficial, yet still protocol, which felt a bit contradictory. But considering the unplanned nature of this meeting, bringing an official vehicle would’ve raised too many questions.

This vehicle, however, was equipped with facilities that rivaled those of the president's own car. It could withstand multiple rocket launcher hits or drive at 80 kilometers per hour even with all its tires blown out—a veritable fortress on wheels.

As the car sped along, the conversation continued.

"I wanted to apply Icarus Gear’s shield technology to this car, but unfortunately, it belongs to the state, and in two months, the next Secretary of Defense will be using it."

"So, they’re not aware of the situation?"

"That’s right. DARPA is erasing all traces of this as we speak. We’ve already set up a think tank under that name to eventually hand this technology over to select U.S. defense contractors. It’s far too shocking to be released into the public right now, and…"

At that moment, a digital signature floated into the air.

Even with her near-native English skills, Eugene found it hard to decipher the hundreds of technical terms and clauses laid out in the document. Janet spoke again, noticing her confusion.

"Of course, this technology belongs to you. That means you’ll be the owner of the think tank. Since there’s no reason to go public, you’ll own 100% of the company’s shares. I’ll help with the management through the connections I’ve built over the years. This is the digital signature to confirm all that. I’ve already signed it, so all that’s left is your signature."

"It’s complicated. I didn’t expect to come to America and be handed business matters like this…"

"You’re familiar with a certain law firm, right? If you have any doubts, just throw the contract at them. If you’re uncomfortable, I can introduce you to a few trustworthy firms. They specialize in corporate law and intellectual property, and they’ll keep your secrets to the grave."

With that, Janet pulled out a series of business cards from her pocket. A quick scan with her Icarus Gear revealed that these firms were top-tier in the field of corporate and intellectual property law.

Eugene wondered how to respond as Janet slipped the cards into her pocket and continued her explanation inside the car heading toward DARPA.

"The contract has already been fine-tuned, but if anything seems off, you can contact those firms using the numbers on the cards. Mention my name, and they’ll send the invoice to me. They’re the type of money-grubbing lawyers who charge $7,000 per hour, so unless you want to pay out of pocket, just let me handle it."

"Once they realize the true value of the technology, I think they’ll owe me $7,000 an hour."

"Haha! That’s the best joke I’ve heard recently. You’re right. This is the result of a project that’s consumed billions of dollars over 20 years. Even by conservative estimates, it would take those firms 700 years to earn that much."

As they exchanged light banter, the car covered the short 5-6 kilometers, and DARPA’s headquarters came into view.

As the doors opened, a large group of personnel stood ready to greet Secretary Janet.

With formal greetings, they continued their conversation.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Eugene. Secretary Janet, we’ll escort you to the inner research lab."

It had only been three days since Eugene arrived in the U.S.

As the cold winter wind brushed against her face, she stepped into DARPA’s hidden nerve center, leaving behind the virtual world for a moment and entering the heart of reality.