"Eat as much as you want. I'll pay the bill."

"It clearly says that this meat is about 122 dollars for 110 grams. You really are ordering without a care."

"...I suppose that’s true."

At 7 PM, the sizzling sound filled the air.

It was truly a good time for dinner, and after our climbing adventure—not really climbing, but we had run about 9 kilometers from Gangbuk to Gangnam—it was the peak of our appetite. Initially, we had considered taking a car, taxi, or bus, but the evening traffic in Seoul made that decision for us.

And so, having warmed up our bodies slightly, we arrived without any issues at a high-end barbecue restaurant located in a shopping area attached to an apartment, set against the backdrop of a fully set sun over Seoul.

This was a place I had wanted to visit for a while, though I ended up bringing Logan instead of Harmony or Dice… but really, the only issue would be if the restaurant’s meat supply didn’t fill us up.

With the sound of clattering, the side dishes were placed one by one on the table. Having spent a few weeks in Korea, Logan naturally started using chopsticks to pick at the side dishes.

As the meat was laid out on the table one after another, we ordered in kilograms, even though they sold meat by the 100-gram unit. That was just common sense for a user of a "manifestation" skill.

"The meat is so red... and a bit white too. I can’t even tell if that’s fat or meat."

"It’s a bit different from steak meat."

"It'll melt in my mouth before I can even chew it."

Logan and I conversed in English to make things easier for him.

As the charcoal glowed red, giving off considerable heat, a staff member approached with tongs to grill the meat, but I stopped him, saying it was fine—since we had chosen a private room to avoid broadcasting our conversations outside, we had to at least put in the effort to grill our own meat.

After nodding, the staff member left, asking us to call for help if we needed anything, and I activated the Icarus gear's scan function lightly to check the meat temperature.

The meat began to cook quickly.

So, what was I planning to talk about tonight?

"I’d like to discuss the Seattle situation, if that’s alright."

"Hmm."

I glanced at Logan.

Our eyes met. His sky-blue eyes didn't seem particularly concerned. It felt somewhat official, neither good nor bad. In fact, that was normal.

After a brief moment of silence, Logan continued.

"If there’s a behind-the-scenes story, maybe share it?"

"What kind of story?"

"Over there. Since we've recaptured San Jose, San Francisco, and Sacramento, I figure there might be some detailed reconnaissance results coming up."

"You’re quite insightful."

Indeed.

As I thought about where to begin, I added,

"In Seattle and Vancouver, there’s at least a field army’s worth of troops establishing a defensive line."

"...What?"

"To be specific, it seems they have no choice but to do that."

While flipping the meat, I projected a hologram into the air. It displayed a layered map of Seattle and Vancouver. The scale was roughly 1 cm to 20 km, showing the two cities stained red and Portland gradually regaining its greenery.

The defensive line was shrinking and consolidating. It didn’t take long for Logan, who was staring intently at the map, to let out a bewildered laugh.

"...So their purpose isn’t to secure the city but because they can’t retreat, they're hiding out there?"

"To put it bluntly, yes. There’s no need to explain the state of the roads in Canada."

As the perfectly cooked meat was ready, I divided it into halves and we began to eat. The taste was just as Logan had described. The juices burst in my mouth like fireworks and melted away instantly. The meat was impressively marbled with equal parts fat and lean, creating a violent flavor.

Logan was piling vegetables on his plate as I had shown him earlier and making wraps with them. The sounds of satisfaction coming from him confirmed that my effort in bringing him here was worth it.

As I placed more meat on the grill, I added,

"They’re going to learn the hard way that they shouldn't recklessly land in a country thousands of kilometers away. Of course, the tuition will be their lives…."

"That’s right."

As Confucius said, it was easy to enter but not so when leaving. They might not have realized it when they were joyfully stirring things up in America, but now there would be no escape route left.

Furthermore, the locations of Seattle and Vancouver, along with the state of the roads in Canada, supported the likelihood that the Russian-Chinese coalition could not retreat.

"The roads connecting the cities might be somewhat manageable, but to get to Wales, which is only 100 km away from the Russian mainland, they would need to travel thousands of kilometers... and given the state of those roads, they have no answer."

"All the national highways that are laid out are just two lanes… not to mention the distance from Fairbanks to Wales is about 950 km, all of which is unpaved."

"You sure know your stuff."

"Didn’t I mention that my hometown is in Alaska?"

"I think I’ve heard the self-deprecating comedy about being cursed to turn into a bear for killing too many bears from your senior."

We both burst into laughter. It wasn’t an inaccurate statement at all.

In any case, now the only problem remained. To use Seattle and Vancouver as forward bases, they had to clear out all the enemies, regardless of how it went down. If all 300,000 to 400,000 of them surrendered at once, it would be ideal, but that would be pure wishful thinking.

Ultimately, they would have to push back an entire field army, and naturally, that would not be easy. For them, the best result would be to turn Seattle and Vancouver into their front yard and negotiate a strengthening alliance with the U.S. while using them as forward bases.

Of course, that was entirely implausible. The U.S. was planning to use bulldozers to shove all the enemies into the waters off Seattle. In other words, it meant a complete frontal confrontation.

Logan had long since reached a similar conclusion.

"With the lack of aircraft operation and maintenance personnel, SEAD will be difficult. But if we have enough drone maintenance and piloting personnel, it might work…."

"What about launching Trident missiles over Seattle to perform an EMP attack?"

"Considering it's filled with buildings, that wouldn’t have much effect, but it might be the best option."

It was a rather tumultuous topic, but the reason for this sudden shift in conversation was simple.

The enemy coalition likely knew that we had to 'gently' push through Seattle, so rather than the indiscriminate missile attacks they experienced during the Los Angeles incident, they would anticipate precise guided bombings—and to prevent this, an immense air defense capability would be necessary.

And indeed, the photos I showed Logan had an abundance of markings for surface-to-air missiles, with each building and park potentially housing at least a few of them. Moreover, as I had mentioned earlier, if an EMP were to be triggered, the enemy would likely still have access to their remaining nuclear capabilities, heightening the chances of the situation getting out of hand.

As a result, the conclusion was the same, as always.

"We’ll have to eliminate one by one, whether it’s air defense or missiles, meaning the conclusion is the same."

"Yeah. I can roughly understand what you’re saying."

In my personal estimation, the likelihood was high that our team was already moving.

Knowing this, Logan smiled and added,

"Let’s hope the other-worldly us brings back good news."

The night was long, and there was plenty of time.

And I spent about 20 million won on dinner.

"...that’s what they probably think over there."

"Clearing out the thorny bushes is our job. It’s certainly better than back in the day when we would bulldoze everything while risking our lives."

"Back then, everyone was out of their minds."

"Enough chatter; let’s carry out the withdrawal. We don’t have the luxury of messing around down south."

In Seattle, Lewis-McChord Joint Base.

On top of the exploded and shattered radar sites and piles of corpses, nine people were bantering.

"Open the door!"

"Well, it’s still going to take a bit longer, so what are you in a hurry for?"

The Seattle battle was approaching.

Just as the ads for Dark Zone began, immediately after the Sacramento campaign was completely finished, the screens of buildings and the internet, as well as all places people frequented, were covered in tactical advertisements and images of frozen Seattle.

It was all about controlling expectations. In an effort to stoke the fires, the Dark Zone gaming company had been releasing numerous operational data that could hint at the situation in Seattle—essentially photographs and various communication recordings in reality—and many people began analyzing them.

As two weeks turned into one week, and then three days, the amount of information continued to grow exponentially, allowing players to see a comprehensive outline of the puzzle that was emerging.

Thus, the following facts were revealed:

• The operation is expected to focus on a power struggle similar to the Sacramento campaign, but the emphasis on fallen operators and PVP battles will decrease while the PVE and cooperative content will be greatly enhanced.

• The U.S. military will make a formal appearance as NPCs, and players will be able to receive support from armored vehicles, airstrikes, and artillery fire. However, they cannot fight alongside them. NPCs cannot shoot. A significant number of unmanned armored forces are expected to debut.

• There will be an implementation of urban warfare, necessitating coordination of playtime.

 

"Why are they making such a fuss over this?"

"I can sense something’s off about the unmanned vehicles."

"If this keeps up, all the newbies are gonna die!"

"In this game, where are the newbies?"

And so, as D-3 approached, a recording was unveiled.

A voice that felt oddly familiar. It did not sound heavy or sharp; rather, it was a bright voice rising from the depths of the ocean, continuing the briefing in a mechanical tone.

• This is Task Force Dagger. I will provide reconnaissance data... currently, there are field army-sized enemies waiting in Seattle.

 

Of course, as soon as this communication data was released, the internet exploded.

"A field army? Isn’t that an organization that disappeared after World War II…?"

"Wow, they’re saying there are at least 200,000 troops. The metropolitan population of Seattle is 4 million, so that's almost 1/20th of it."

"They're making it obvious that this is going to be the last battle for America."

200,000.

Of course, the massive amount of data that had been disseminated to the users over two weeks had described Seattle and Vancouver together, while the briefing solely discussed Seattle. This meant there were likely just as many immense numbers present elsewhere.

But few were wondering where so many enemies had suddenly emerged from. The reason was simple: after all, the Dark Zone was a game, and PVE was one of the two pillars supporting the game.

Thus, three days, two days, one day - and finally, on opening day.

What greeted the first players logging in was a map engulfed in flames and a rain of projectiles hotter than molten lava.

"Wow, no way."

"Weren't there mountains there? It looks like a fortress has been built!"

"Whoa, cruise missiles are incoming!"

To the south of the Lewis-McChord Joint Military Base, where only flatlands and low hills, along with a few shooting ranges and training facilities had existed, the first arrivals of countless users were met not by anything else but a torrent of conventional weaponry, including multiple rocket launchers and self-propelled guns.

This enormous military base, carved from the mountain and excavated from the ground, was constructed so recklessly that the Task Force had even designated a massive radar destruction as a primary objective, and it was dishing out firepower that was impossible to counter with just bare hands.

An enemy stronghold equipped with numerous air defense systems designed to intercept ballistic and cruise missiles. Within just five minutes, thousands of players experienced a repeat of the Normandy invasion from World War II. However,

"...Hey. There’s nothing written here about engaging in combat, is there?"

"What? No way?"

"It says we just have to hold out until the designated time."

"This is messed up; everyone here got tricked."

While thousands of users were receiving their respawn tickets, someone suddenly remarked. As those who had charged bravely into battle melted away, they were learning the new lesson that they needed to read the main mission's conditions.

Fifteen minutes.

And so, tens of thousands of users began to slowly retreat. They scattered throughout small towns that made up the suburbs of Seattle, such as Yelm, Lacey, and Olympia—but the enemy coalition had learned from the abundance of information that these players would respawn after a certain amount of time.

As a result, the decision was made to engage the players and hold them back for as long as possible while using strategic assets to inflict as much damage as possible on what was presumed to be the U.S.

One of the outcomes of this was the installation of booby traps throughout the city.

KA-THUNK!

"These crazies…."

"How did they manage to put in IEDs that don’t even get detected?"

"This is unreal, seriously. It’s too extreme from the get-go."

The enormous stockpiles of explosives stored in the base became the raw materials for the traps, and many users either directly fell victim to explosions or got hit by debris that ricocheted and met their demise.

Moreover, the coalition had begun to sweep the city and suburbs thoroughly, gathering massive amounts of ammonium nitrate from quarries and civilian construction sites far in advance, significantly contributing to the downfall of players named after their user names.

Of course,

"As soon as the drones arrive, I’ll activate the optical enhancement feature and let’s check the insides of that massive fortress."

"How about the engagement rules?"

"Eliminate all enemies except those who surrender."

The voice that was heard did not belong to Yujin, but from another direction.

Logan, gripping a survival axe so tightly that its rubber padding almost crumpled under her grip, glared with a piercing gaze.

"Let’s break through before the day ends."

"Whoa…."

Memo: The polar bear is more aggressive than the anaconda. At that moment, both Dice and Harmony realized this in their minds.

The operation to reclaim Seattle had begun.