Body Check 2

Special forces under the United States Naval Special Warfare Command had to be at home in the water.

But as America's national defense itself fragmented, every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠operator — even those from the Army — was required to possess multi-warfare capability beyond their own specialty.

At least, that was the case for me.

Even though I wasn't part of the Naval Special Warfare Command.

After the virus neutralized the U.S. so easily, the flames of war shifted to the mainland, revealing countless tactical patterns we'd never experienced before. Those patterns could be broadly grouped into two categories:

Urban warfare and infiltration warfare.

Every combat scenario during my roughly four years of active operator duty was some combination of those two. The U.S. stabilized the mainland situation by piling mountains of corpses — countless talented dead.

My task force stood at the spearhead, crushing all enemies. Naturally, that included operations against hostile naval forces lingering in coastal waters — and destroying them wholesale.

Consequently, during my active operator days, I had to simultaneously undergo countless training sessions and real-world missions for infiltrating and sabotaging enemy warships.

And fortunately, I became a snake that moved in water.

—Shwaaak!

"…Hoo."

Thanks to that, I could adapt to an aquatic environment faster than anyone else.

I lifted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my head above the surface and checked the flexible band on my wrist. It was already glowing green — meaning data collection on tail movement and resistance in the special underwater environment was complete.

I signaled the escort personnel to let them know and climbed out of the pool.

About four hours had passed since I arrived here. I'd started the schedule at exactly twelve noon at the company building… but truth be told, things had been running a little off-kilter.

Part of that was because no one else used this system — to the point where the escort staff had to apologize to me in advance for it.

—[ERROR: Skeletal muscle mass calculation failed.]

—[ERROR: No match. Body contour and weight do not correspond.]

"No, what's wrong with this machine? One moment, please…"

"I'm sorry. Please wait a little longer until the measurement results come out."

Or things like:

"You're saying the physics engine implementation is weird? No, we used the values exactly as you sent them. Huh? If I plug these in, people will say it's cheating, what's that…"

"…Yes, yes. I'll relay the simulation results to that person as soon as I receive them. You're asking us to confirm whether such actions are actually possible, right?"

"Yes, please compile the requests into a list and send them. We'll check everything and relay it in real time, correct?"

"Yes. Understood."

"…Sorry, but do you happen to like exercise?"

Things like that had happened. I couldn't grasp the full details, but just from overhearing the phone calls, I could roughly guess what was going on.

Even so, the flow of the schedule wasn't significantly disrupted. So around 1:30 PM, I headed to the basement area where the company's welfare facilities and infrastructure were concentrated.

To put it vaguely: it was a place with a cafeteria for employees, a fitness club, a swimming pool, and a lounge.

So if you ask what I did there —

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… a person, no, how is this possible…"

"…I thought I worked out pretty hard at the company gym, but man."

I exercised again.

It's hard to list everything, but to summarize: based on the muscle density and skeletal muscle mass analyzed by the machines, I confirmed through numerous exercises how closely the simulation results matched reality.

Though the ratio of cardio endurance, muscular endurance, and bodyweight exercises was higher than anaerobic training.

Still, for those curious:

"…Aren't you tired?"

"Haa, I'm still a long way from… I'm doing okay!"

As always, I ran around for over thirty minutes wearing a weighted vest that substituted for a combat load.

"Augh, the vibration, the vibration, ughhh…!"

"You volunteered to play the casualty role, so please bear with it a little longer."

I also performed various manual carries for casualty evacuation that lasted several dozen minutes. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that, overall, I systematically attempted actions that were actually possible in-game.

After all, that's exactly why I came here.

Anyway, after over an hour of various demonstrations, most of the necessary data was collected. At the same time, I could easily prove that all the absurd extrapolation results from the simulation center were actually feasible in reality.

Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — since all of this was prepared solely for me, there were still many other things that needed to be done.

For example —

—!!!

"How much longer do I have to do this!"

"I can't hear you!"

I recreated a small portion of the HALO process using a fly station to understand tail movement in midair.

"Wow, you're good at hand-to-hand combat too. Did you learn somewhere?"

"…Yes, somewhere."

I also demonstrated multiple times how to use it in CQB situations, especially when entering melee combat.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

It was actually a secret that shouldn't be revealed to outsiders since it included hand-to-hand combat techniques I'd learned directly from USSOCOM subordinate unit members. But since ordinary people wouldn't understand what they were seeing anyway, it didn't matter much.

I'd also arranged it in my own style.

I guess this is what that shark senior meant when he told me to use my tail well… or something.

Anyway, my own CQC goes something like this: block the enemy's attack, create a temporary stalemate, simultaneously wrap my tail around their leg and throw them; or quickly brush past them, hook my tail on their body, and trip them… something like that.

That's a very simplified version, but the core is about that.

And back to the beginning.

"…Hoo."

Added to the physical trait that makes my body feel refreshed just by entering water, I was also drenched in sweat from all the exercises I'd done two hours earlier.

I don't think I'll need to visit the fitness club separately today.

Water droplets traced the curves of my body and dripped down. With every step, wet footprints shaped like the soles of my feet remained. As if trying to erase all traces the pool had left on me, hot water from the showerhead washed over me from head to toe.

My body, which had cooled slightly, returned to a normal temperature.

After showering, my long straight hair held a lot of water if I didn't touch it separately, so it was best to gently squeeze out the moisture without damaging the hair.

Only then did I start drying my hair and body with a towel.

I removed as much moisture as possible from my body, then entered the dry room, where warm, dry air blew from all directions.

After confirming that even my hair was completely dry, I placed all the swimming equipment lent by the company back in the return area, took off the flexible band on my wrist, and set it aside for a moment.

I opened the locker and started putting on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the clothes I'd worn when I arrived here, one by one. A thought suddenly crossed my mind: was this it?

There had been a lot to do, but on the other hand, it felt like things had ended somewhat lukewarmly — not quite like I'd done something substantial.

How should I put this… basic training?

No, that's not it.

Anyway, for the first time in a very long time, I let myself sink into idle thoughts. When was the last time I'd thought about such trivial things as the main subject… at least not during those four years and eight months there.

The first few weeks, I roamed the coldest parts of Brooklyn just to survive. After arriving at HQ, I stayed in the Alpha-variant quarters because I was a variant myself, met other operators, then somehow got roped into being an Icarus operator, living in shooting ranges and kill houses, and repeatedly being thrown into real combat without warning.

When I was finally deployed in earnest, I went everywhere that needed an operator, and before I knew it, several years had flown by.

A time so relentless there was no room to catch my breath, and when it all ended —

No. Let's not think about it.

"You look happy. Did something happen?"

"Nothing special. I just really enjoy swimming and being in the water."

"Ahaha, I see."

Before I knew it, I was face-to-face with two people.

I chatted with the two staff members who had already become quite familiar after only a few hours.

"This might be rude, but… is the reason you like water because of your physical characteristics?"

"You're making a simple thing complicated."

"Well, I work in a department that handles a lot of meetings — publicly or otherwise — so I try to avoid linking the physical traits of manifestors with their personal inclinations."

"Sounds tough."

I thought, so there really are all kinds of things.

"Anyway… yes. Probably because I'm an anaconda type, I enjoy swimming in water."

"Really? That's fascinating…"

…I don't know what my image in this world is, or what the image of a "manifestor" is, but having someone actually marvel at my every move and talk to me about it is extremely disorienting.

This is just my everyday life. I hope they're not going to clap for me just for breathing later, right?

As I felt like the protagonist of an isekai story I'd read once — the one about being a firelighter —

"…As previously notified, today's tests end here. After this, we just need to retrieve the sensors and discuss the pod."

"I thought you wouldn't collect them separately, given the size."

"It's to more precisely measure the resistance and muscle movements while the body is moving… apparently. We just received the contact ourselves, so it's hard to explain."

I thought, they really do all kinds of things.

I just hoped this would be helpful later.

"Then, should I remove them myself?"

"Ah, we'll remove them with a machine on our end. We need to accurately distinguish the attachment points."

"I see."

Then the two of them exchanged glances.

That turned into a conversation, and then into a kind of sitcom.

"…Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Remove them gently."

"Me!?"

"Then do you expect me to remove the sensors attached to a female client's body?"

"…Senior, you have a tendency to say things that are right but still make me want to punch you."

Still, the two of them seemed quite close.

Anyway, that was that and this was this. Han Seol-ah from the PR department, who ended up having to remove the sensors attached to my body because we shared the same gender, ultimately pinched her senior's side.

And then.

"D-don't worry, it won't hurt at all."

"…."

"…Ah."

…It seemed like she was trying to reassure me in her own way, but the tone was oddly… like I was a kid about to get a vaccination.

Anyway, she had to endure my gaze, which was similar to that of a celebrity confronted with fish-head curry.

Fortunately, it was clear she realized she'd said something weird herself.