NoveLight ™
"...Recovery, recovery... this isn't recovery, it's practically kidnapping, you crazy idiots."
"Well, it’s a kidnapping by agreement with the party involved. Given the circumstances, this was the only method we could resort to."
A day at the southernmost tip of the United States comes to a close.
Outside the hotel room balcony, there were still about a dozen boats floating on the sea, and the sky was slowly turning from a pale purple to orange and then red, as if someone had spilled paint across it. It was a view that, perhaps, he would never see again. And yet, Logan was frowning while replaying a 1 minute and 30-second recording of their recent operation, or rather, the "Fiery Stallion" operation, several times via a hologram.
It was a truly bizarre time attack of an operation.
But the polar bear was at least a proper operator, far better than he was, and had quickly started deducing the numerous details necessary for carrying out the operation.
"Missile support, bombing, railguns, EC-130H, drones. Those are secondary. The key to this operation is the precise timing of the bombing, the assault, and the full-ton recovery... It’s astonishing how perfectly it was timed. I bet you spent nearly every day in the simulation room until the operation was executed."
"Of course. After running it non-stop for about 24 hours, I could get some pretty decent results."
"Impressive. Seriously impressive, you crazy idiots... This is an operation only we could pull off, and only we would even think of doing."
The 'we' in this context, of course, referred to Icarus.
Including himself, the three of them present—Maverick had already returned to the other world—nodded in agreement. It was true. No one else in this world would have been able to carry out such a bold operation. That pride was something he would never forget, no matter how long he lived.
Logan had referred to it as kidnapping because, unlike a typical hijacking, the whole thing happened in a blink of an eye—something like closing and opening your eyes a few times. It felt like a fishing net sweeping a fish off the deck of a boat—probably even faster than that.
As he had said before, if the Guinness Book from the other world still existed, this operation would probably be listed as one of the shortest. The mile-high club mission from old FPS games could probably be compared to it.
Logan's repeated praise made Olivia's expression change—she looked like a dog wagging its tail in excitement at receiving a compliment. Her ears perked up, and the breath of pride filled her chest so much that her already large torso swelled even more.
But the next issue came up.
"...So, besides that, there’s a few things I’m quite curious about."
"What is it?"
"Those mechs don't look like you, but why are there so many people who look like you in the operation zone?"
"Ah, that... Those are members of the team from the other world, including Loren Tina, Logan, Owens, and Serkins."
"Whoooop-!"
That almost made him spill his drink.
His reflexes were fast enough to dodge a bullet, so it was lucky that he avoided any harm. Logan had immediately sprayed the tropical punch he had ordered from the bar downstairs, and sensing the crisis, his mind raced and pushed him under the table.
Thankfully, no alcohol touched his body, and as his sense of time returned to normal, Logan started coughing as though he might need to be sent to the hospital. His cough was so severe that people outside were asking if he was okay.
After about 30 seconds, Logan managed to down the remaining drink and cleared his throat before speaking.
"You… you said that while I was drinking, you bastard, you did that on purpose!"
"Well, you were already drinking before I answered, ugh...!"
"That’s just an excuse for me spitting it out, Third Youngest."
It ended in a headlock.
Anyway, after the playful beating, it was time for an explanation of what was happening, and Eugene told them everything he had heard about the situation—the things Olivia didn’t even know.
When the unit had produced about five mechs, the first emperor of the Holy United Empire had erupted in anger at DARPA and the associated weapons development departments, questioning how they could use a humanoid as an operator in a mission that was too dangerous for people.
So, Henry had swung two swords, "wartime situation" and "national cabinet," and cleaned up the nonsense, but the problem was that it was too costly to simply dispose of the already manufactured mechs.
As a result, the mechs had to be deployed as task force reserves for dangerous operation zones, forced into situations where they couldn’t use human operators.
Logan chuckled as he heard this, and then he tossed a sharp remark.
"How broke are they over there, really?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
The pillars supporting the U.S. had all collapsed, but they were still alive, and perhaps it was the best thing for the economy to survive like this—at least from the outside. The ones who had to feel it firsthand... well, that’s anyone's guess.
Of course, the conclusion was inevitable. With the unknowns looming, the role of the 'shadow,' which could be deployed at no cost, would become more and more important.
Once the secrets that couldn’t be shared outside had been addressed, Eugene got up from the balcony chair, picked up the drone camera charging inside, and glanced at Olivia. She, unsurprisingly, didn’t seem to care at all.
With a whoosh, the drone camera lifted, and the screen turned on.
Now, Logan, who had gotten quite used to streaming, and Olivia, who had always been in front of cameras, were now going to be on the same stream. The moment they appeared on the stream, the viewers could do nothing but watch.
It was past 8 PM when the stream started.
"Hello, everyone. I’m currently in Key West, the southernmost point of the U.S. I think it’s around 9 AM in Korea right now. Here, it’s around 8 PM."
The supercar's 0-100 km/h time was somewhere between 2 and 3 seconds, and when the stream started, the speed at which 100,000 people joined was quite similar.
The fierce competition on the Tricky EU, or US streaming rankings, began to fluctuate sharply. My stream, shooting up like a rocket, overtook a dark zone streamer who had been holding steady at 890,000 viewers, reaching 1.2 million viewers in less than a minute, only to gradually slow down after that.
But that wasn’t the end of it. While I was commenting on the camera, Olivia grabbed my shirt collar from behind and pulled me toward the bed.
Almost stacked like a sandwich, Olivia wrapped her arms around my waist and added:
"Thanks to you, our follower count keeps increasing. Does this mean I can legally leech off you now that the stream’s on?"
"If you acquire all of Olivia’s shopping mall, I guess you could stick a straw in me?"
"Will that actually work?"
"Ugh, how can you do the Heimlich maneuver when I haven’t even eaten anything yet, kwack...!"
On the bed, Olivia and Eugene, who were practically in a sandwich, squirmed around, while Logan, watching them like an idiot, was enjoying the view.
It was quite wild for a stream start.
And so, a new event began that evening.
Vroom!
"Good shot. 1 minute 11 seconds."
"Direct hit. Looks like your skills haven’t deteriorated, Sergeant Loren Tina."
"I’ve been doing this for years."
Christopher "Specter" Loren Tina, DEVGRU CWO-3, also known as Chief Warrant Officer 3, or more roughly, a Sergeant Major—although she was much more than that.
She had joined SEALs as soon as she turned 17, graduated at the top, and for 23 years lived as a Navy Seal and DEVGRU’s only female operator, a legend in the U.S. Navy.
Her influence spread quietly and like a spider’s web throughout the Special Forces, and all the instructors in the sniper competition were either people she had once trained, knew personally, or were juniors or peers she had worked with.
Now, she was conducting a final test with her long-time acquaintances.
"A decade ago, I was only shooting at targets, but the advancements in technology are impressive. I never imagined we’d be doing missions so close to real combat in this competition."
"Close-to-real escort missions, urban operations team support, rough terrain penetration, helicopter sniping, maritime sniping, fortress infiltration, long-range sniping, target detection, and special equipment handling. Standard, but some of these were once impossible. I’m glad we can do them now, but..."
Some of the sensitive equipment involved might be difficult to share with operators from other countries. Loren Tina smiled slightly at that thought but held it back, knowing exactly what those sniper drones and turrets were. They had started mass production after Eugene visited DARPA last year.
She knew that, from early next year, 'Pulse' technology would be delivered to the Special Forces. Loren Tina couldn’t help but feel a mix of disbelief and excitement at how advanced it all was.
"South America, Europe, Canada, Russia, East Asia... quite a few places, but teaching those guys... it’ll take years for them to make a decent prototype. Even if it's quick, it will take at least a year and a half to two years. And the performance will fall far behind."
"That’s a bit too optimistic, Senior."
They continued their discussion, breaking down weapon assembly, wind calculations, and mental stabilization. This mission was perfect for testing the essential sniper skills, but they went even further.
The mission, typically done by a two-person team, now required a single individual to find the target, calculate the wind, stabilize their aim, and shoot alone—an advanced challenge.
As they completed the mission and returned the weapons to the case, the conversation continued.
"By the way, aren’t your acquaintances coming for the competition, too? Logan and Eugene, right? They were wildcard participants, weren't they?"
"Yes."
"Do you think they’ll do well?"
"If they were regular participants, I bet they’d be crowned winners in less than three days."
Loren Tina’s thoughts briefly drifted as she recalled the earlier scene, thinking about what Eugene and Olivia would be doing in the stream.
She wondered if Logan felt the same when they were in Hawaii.
But unlike Logan, Loren Tina could always make excuses for herself, saying, "Did you guys go without me?"
With just four days left until the competition began, the day in the U.S. came to an end.