"What am I supposed to do with all of this?"

The table was a chaotic mess, with patterns, fabrics, and sketches scattered all over. Expensive-looking chairs were cluttered around the room, as if the walls themselves were part of the decor, covered with numerous sketches. A mannequin, lacking arms and with its lower torso cut off, stood in the middle of it all, while a giant sewing machine occupied the center of the table, surrounded by an array of clothes hanging on racks.

Next to this disarray was another table, laden with fashion magazines and theoretical books. One of the books caught her eye: "Fashion holds meaning beyond individual preferences and changes with the seasons. For example, if the autumn weather is cold, colors and fabrics that absorb light tend to be more popular..."

A complete mess.

And in the center of it all stood one person.

"..."

Olivia N. Lorelei.

A fashion influencer and designer with 1.2 million subscribers on social media. At 24 years old, she had worked as a cryptographer for the NSA until her mid-thirties before retiring. In another world, she had been the only EM-level awakener in Task Force Laser and had been involved in numerous operations.

Endless thoughts piled up one after the other. Her head spun, but it wasn’t due to an identity crisis. She was overwhelmed by how to clear this table, how to manage her schedule of activities, and how to conclude her work as a fashion influencer.

In other words, from the moment she regained her memories, she had already made a decision.

"What’s the problem with taking a month off?"

In the fashion industry, where trends change every 24 hours and competitors increase with every passing day, a month-long break could have disastrous consequences. But right now, she didn’t have the luxury to worry about such "trivial" matters.

New York, now a ghost town. The scent of gunpowder echoed through the empty streets. The endless snow fell, clear and sharp, like a scene in slow motion, so vivid that she could sketch it with her eyes closed.

In the midst of it all, Olivia, with a Vector rifle loaded with drum magazines, carefully navigated the snow that had piled up several centimeters, moving from car to car, as she took down thugs armed with shotguns.

Blood spilled from the holes in the enemy’s body, flowing out and mixing with the steam rising from the snow. The image of it fused with the warmth of a coffee cup in her hand.

As the snow melted around her, Olivia leaned back in her chair, clutching her head. Her feathers—those that resembled an owl's—moved in response to her emotions, twitching as they mimicked the movements of an animal’s ears.

No matter how much she thought, or how much she considered the situation from different angles, the conclusion remained the same.

"..."

The world of flashing cameras, the height of glamour.

But even that couldn’t overlay the vivid memory of machine gun fire, the recoil that rattled her shoulder, or the bleak, monochromatic shades of white and gray that filled New York. The sharp contrast of red blood and dead bodies—she couldn’t erase the memory.

The brutal but also glorious memories. War was a colossal emotional entity far too vast for humans to bear, and the ultimate tragedy that could arise from human conflict overshadowed even the most vibrant worlds of fashion.

As she sat there, unsure of what emotions were coursing through her, she mumbled to herself in an empty room.

"I never imagined I’d envy those two crazy people."

Lorentina and Logan.

As she had mentioned before, Olivia was a former NSA member. Using the power of old colleagues, she had once tracked the two of them. They were still walking the path that most could never imagine, a path sharp enough to be compared to a blade.

In that sense, perhaps this moment was exactly what she had been missing—a certain stimulation that had been absent from her life until now. To be honest, since the end of last year, she had envied Lorentina and Logan, who had been gallivanting around with their junior, having all sorts of fun.

She had drunk so much that even the scent of coffee in her breath now seemed familiar, but she longed for the acrid scent of gunpowder.

Olivia flipped through her schedule planner.

"Now it’s starting to look better."

A line was drawn across the page. It wasn’t a small, careful scratch but a massive diagonal line from the bottom left to the top right.

Her new memories mixed with the old, creating a completely different person, but the past memories were never truly gone.

And Olivia, more than anyone, was a hardworking workaholic. Her laptop was filled with countless design drafts that she had created but hadn’t yet sent. Without hesitation, she sent them individually to the clients listed in her planner.

Within minutes, various messages began arriving. Some even called her directly to ask how she was doing.

After responding appropriately, she checked her planner again. Fortunately, there was nothing scheduled after October, and now that she had sent the designs to the clients, the remaining schedule included... perhaps just a couple of lectures or interviews.

She exhaled softly and called the schedule manager from the large brand she had been collaborating with.

After several knocks, the door opened.

"What can I do for you, Olivia?"

"Can we move up the lectures and interviews for this week? Also, is it possible to free up two weeks in November?"

"That’s quite sudden. I’m not sure how to handle this..."

"I’ve already sent everything to the clients."

A brief silence.

However, after checking the synced web planner application and seeing multiple circles appearing rapidly, along with several incoming messages, the manager decided not to worry too much. After all, Olivia had finished her tasks, and this was just part of the process.

"I suppose even workaholics need a break sometimes."

She smiled lightly, and the manager didn’t probe further.

Instead, he asked the next question.

"So, where are you planning to go?"

Without a second's hesitation, she replied.

"Hawaii, and Korea."

In Olivia’s mind, the vast shooting range in Hawaii already appeared, and she couldn’t wait to go.

"...A request for bulk firearm rentals in Hawaii?"

This person, it’s only been a week since the last email, and suddenly, why is she going to Hawaii?

The world was truly strange.

"Olivia, Olivia... That name is quite familiar. It feels like I haven’t heard it in a long time. Did our junior reach out directly?"

"No, she just sent me an email out of nowhere. In the first email, she mentioned that Task Force Laser had also been working hard and asked if they could deploy, along with some strange request to bring them in alongside Task Force Dagger. In the second email... she asked if she could shoot some of the guns in Hawaii, promising to send money."

"She's lost her mind."

It was 10 AM in Korea, and 9 PM in the U.S.

Though it wasn’t exactly a long time ago, I had gathered the senior officers for a group call, and this time I was curious to see what our junior would say. I was about to drop another bomb on the shark and polar bear, who were already waiting.

Thanks to the holograms, I could clearly see the flames of anger in their eyes. It was a familiar expression. Of course. We had all spent a lot of time together—at least until Task Force Dagger split up.

Let’s briefly look at the history of it.

"When was the last time we met? I can’t seem to remember."

"We used to meet frequently when we were cleaning up New York. We often did joint operations. But as the operation radius spread across the U.S., we slowly stopped meeting. Maybe they’ve started meeting again in the other world."

"Awakeners... Or rather, they were called ‘Mutants’ over there. When we were running the mutant training camp, we were practically together all day."

"Logan, you came later."

"That’s true, but..."

As true as that was.

Before I go into a brief story about the past, I should explain the situation back then.

When the Dark Winter Incident broke out, there were many awakened individuals, including me. Most of us were classified as between E1 and E2 levels, but I was the only one classified as EM-level. At that time, there weren’t proper standards, so we mostly relied on rough estimates.

In the early stages, Lorentina was even treated as someone whose gender had merely changed.

Anyway, going back to the story, I was an Alpha-level—what we now call EM-level—awakener, with slit pupils like a snake, ears that were sharper than average, elongated fangs, a snake-like tail, and vibration sensing and night vision. It was clear to anyone that I belonged to the Alpha category—what we now call EM-level.

And because it was easier to manage them all in one place, the EM-level awakened individuals had to be grouped together.

"Even before Logan came, and after he did, we were all together."

"Just say it straight, junior. Olivia and I were instructors, and you were a trainee following us around."

"I honestly thought I was going to die."

"Dying once or twice was nothing, huh."

...That’s true.

Anyway, at the start of the crisis, we had to gather the awakened individuals, who were clearly different from regular people, and quarantine them. That’s when I first made contact with them. Of course, as I mentioned before, Logan came a little later.

There were several reasons for that.

When I barely managed to get into New York and was working hard in Central Park, Logan’s operation team was stationed in Washington D.C., protecting important figures from the widespread virus. They were also working to end the chaos and keep an eye on suspicious individuals.

But not long after, a major disaster occurred.

The Capitol was literally destroyed, and nearly all the congressmen, from the Senate to the House of Representatives, were killed. The president, who had been inaugurated just a week earlier, Henry, was en route to the UN General Assembly in New York when he heard the news. He had to make an emergency landing at JFK airport.

And after that, he couldn’t return to the capital for over six years.

So, Logan’s team was rushed to Central Park for presidential protection, and that’s when the bonds between Logan, Lorentina, Olivia, and me were formed...

"Now that I think about it, I guess we should’ve contacted her earlier, but why did we never check in until now?"

"She just recently regained her memory."

"Well, that’s understandable."

In the email, she mentioned not understanding why she suddenly became a fashion influencer after being an ex-NSA cryptographer...

It also explained why Olivia had suddenly decided to go to Hawaii. She wanted to borrow the guns I had stored there, which had cost me around 200 million won.

After a few international cash transactions, Olivia happily left for Hawaii.

She even posted about it on social media.

"I guess she’s famous because there was quite a buzz about it."

"Hmm, well... when someone who used to only post about clothes she designed and shopping mall ads suddenly goes to Hawaii and posts a video of herself shooting a Barrett, I can see why."

"Of course, she put a suppressor on it too. What else would she do?"

That was true.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Olivia was an owl mutant, capable of more covert operations than even Lorentina. She loved jumping from high places using a special wingsuit, weaving between buildings and alleyways, picking off enemies alone.

And while her chest muscles, which were highly developed due to her avian traits, seemed to be reflected in her figure, that wasn’t something I was concerned with.

After all, when you average the stats of the people I’m talking to, we’d likely be inching closer to the G-level range.

"That guy has an amazing execution ability."

"From what I saw in the earlier posts, it doesn’t seem like she’ll be holed up in Hawaii the whole time. Have you heard anything specific?"

"Hmm..."

A brief silence.

Then, the following words.

"She plans to enjoy Hawaii for about a week, then come to Korea."

Naturally, at that moment, everyone burst into laughter.

And the conversation continued.

"Of course."

"Lately, I’ve seriously been thinking about submitting my discharge papers. Damn it. That idiot is just wandering around the world while—"

"Shut up, Shark. Just call the junior to the U.S. problem solved."

"Hah... I’ll give you 500 shark points for this one, Logan. You really are a genius."

"What are you talking about behind my back, huh?"

Looks like I’ll have to visit the U.S. frequently.

What a bunch of troublemakers.