Chapter 136
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: #Test (1)
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Swaaaa—
Hot water poured down. The small shower room, about a single mat in size, quickly fogged up.
Winter stared at the mirror through the steam. It was out of focus. He wiped it with his hand, and a unfamiliar boy appeared. Winter tilted his head along with the boy. So different from his living days. It wasn’t just a change in appearance. It was because of the fabricated emotions and expressions. The play was still ongoing. To the audience from another world, the real Winter would just be a boring little clown.
The handprint on the mirror faded. The unfamiliar boy became a silhouette. Winter lost interest. He closed his eyes. It felt good to let the water stream hit him.
There was plenty of time given. It wasn’t pointless downtime. It was prep for the disguise. He was scheduled for special makeup. Starting from the face to the upper body. The handler who’d come early had given him the cabin number and left. Plenty of water and power, so take your time and enjoy.
The only tools were soap and a shower sponge. The soap smelled like used cooking oil. That was probably the standard for supplies dropping into the waters off San Francisco.
He scrubbed his whole body thoroughly with the sponge. His body was firmer than before. Thanks to the muscles added as a combat power bonus. The changed combat power meant changed senses. He still needed time to adjust.
After showering, Winter put on a new uniform. It was the combat gear of the fictional private military company “Orca Black,” fabricated by the CIA. He grabbed his weapon and left the changing room.
The corridor was a mess overall. Wires spilled out everywhere, snaking across the floor. The walls appeared and disappeared. Like interior work had been abandoned halfway. But on closer look, it was a structure favorable for defense. Anyone unfamiliar with the layout would be easy prey from all sides. Obstacles designed for shootouts, inactive traps, and camouflaged gun ports came into view.
Winter reached his destination and knocked. Tap tap.
“Lieutenant Han Gyeowol.”
“Come in.”
A gravelly voice replied. Winter entered. The inside was set up like a beauty salon. Unfamiliar, but fitting for the purpose. The handler set down his book and gestured to a seat with a smile.
“You’re earlier than expected, Lieutenant. Thought I’d have to wait longer…. Have a seat first. Shirt off to the side. Need to check your skin before we start.”
The man disinfected his hands, then sprayed something on Winter. Then he started kneading Winter’s face with his large hands. If you ignored the purpose, it was a pretty weird sight.
After measuring several spots on the skin with some devices, the man made a regretful face.
“Man, such rare good skin…. Feels bad messing it up myself.”
But he didn’t hesitate. Whiiiir. The machine sprayed chemicals. Like painting on a canvas, he quickly altered Winter’s features. While briefing him on precautions.
“This makeup won’t come off easily. But it’s not permanent, so touch-ups every ten days. Permanent’s an option, but we can’t ruin the Lieutenant’s face completely. Higher-ups wouldn’t let me live.”
He chuckled dryly and continued.
“If you fall in the sea or get soaked in saltwater, come by that evening. Don’t use much soap when washing—think of it as rinsing with water only. Good thing water’s not scarce, so no grime worries…. Need me to repeat?”
“It’s fine. I got it.”
“Good. Any allergies?”
He asked while picking up a thin syringe. A small amount of clear liquid filled the cylinder. Winter checked his self-settings with intelligence correction and answered.
“No. Nothing like that.”
“Perfect. This causes skin issues. Great for that junkie look. Usually makeup suffices, but you’re so well-known, Lieutenant. Just to be safe.”
He brought the needle close. It’d sting. Subcutaneous shots to the face felt unpleasant. Like a bug bite. It didn’t end with one. He jabbed the nape and body a few times too. The amount was tiny, but the reaction was immediate. Winter felt the itch spreading.
The handler took photos. Tapped to send to a few people. No one would mistake him for an enemy now.
The man declared the job done.
“All set. Head to the briefing room now. Don’t know the way, so I’ll guide you.”
Winter grabbed his shirt and weapon, asking,
“Haven’t heard yet—what’s your position and name?”
“Oh, no intros? My bad. Feels like I’ve known you forever, Lieutenant.”
He shrugged.
“Oliver Talbot. Mainly tactical planning here, but I handle odd jobs sometimes. Makeup’s a side gig. Expert level, so extra pay. Haha.”
Cheeky for his build. Winter shook his hand lightly.
“Looking forward to working with you, Agent Talbot.”
“No need. Big expectations on you, Lieutenant. Tough road ahead, but give it your all to the end.”
In the briefing room they reached, Joanna was flipping through documents. Not that others weren’t there, but she felt isolated. Her natural blank expression, but shoulders tense. She glanced at the two new faces, then back to her papers with disinterest.
‘Weird. Didn’t get the photos?’
Winter side-eyed Talbot. No, too soon to assume intent. He and Joanna had arrived just yesterday. No surprise if she wasn’t on Talbot’s contact list. Though that meant Team Leader Chadwick hadn’t done his job.
No assigned seats, so Winter took the one next to the FBI agent. Joanna gave him a suspicious glance, read her papers, tilted her head, and looked again. Winter smiled.
“That hard to recognize?”
“Oh my god, Winter?”
The watchful mood shattered. Her face lit up with joy and surprise.
“Already disguised. You look so filthy and sleazy!”
“…….”
Snickers burst from across the table. Joanna belatedly controlled her expression. Her nape flushed red.
Team Leader Chadwick was slumped asleep. Soft snoring. No one woke him. Still time left, apparently. Talbot approached and handed Winter the same documents as Joanna.
“Info you need to memorize ASAP. Brief profiles on deployed agents, force distributions in the bay, past op results, friendly unit deployments for backup, etc. Portable on this floor like the briefing room, but no taking elsewhere. Memorize, then return to the ops intel room next door. We’ll shred immediately. Got it?”
Winter nodded. This floor included quarters. He paused. Talbot, heading back, spoke again.
“Hand that over a sec. I’ll mark pages good to skim before briefing.”
“Thanks. You’re kind.”
Talbot’s thick fingers moved nimbly. Winter noted the calluses—【Insight】 triggered. High chance of knife fighting proficiency. Grip strength training evident.
Pages folded mechanically. Done quick.
Taking the binder, Winter scanned the rest. No frontline fighters apparent. Mostly CIA agents, probably. Still, the threat levels his senses picked up were high. The sole exception: Team Leader Nathan Chadwick. Could be deliberate masking via correction.
‘No way an incompetent’s team leader.’
How much was he hiding?
After Talbot left, Winter flipped pages. First folded one: bay overview. Golden Gate blockade info. U.S. had five nuclear subs there. No more subs in or out. Some unfamiliar terms mixed in.
“Ann. What’s SOSUS? Says it’s at Golden Gate.”
Joanna turned.
“Know what sonar is?”
“Yeah.”
“Simple: it’s that laid out in lines on the seabed.”
“Ah.”
Sonar replaced radar underwater. Used sound waves instead of radio. Active types pinged echoes; passive just listened.
Joanna continued.
“Originally, SOSUS lines ringed Golden Gate, the coast, and bay seabed for defending San Francisco in emergencies. Problem: control station was in Monterey. Now only some near the entrance recovered to block it. Rest abandoned. No power.”
Monterey: 100km south of SF metro. Fell early in West Coast outbreak.
She said similar nets covered U.S. coasts, Canadian waters, U.S. island territories, even allied seas like UK overseas and Japan.
“Creepy. Not my place as a U.S. soldier, but this country wanted to control every ocean?”
The FBI agent gave a wry smile.
“That’s how scared they were of nuclear war. Top doomsday scenario pre-plague. One sub’s nukes could flatten East Coast cities. Obsessive about it. Familiar to you, Winter? People turning selfish when lives are on the line.”
“Hm…. Yeah, now that you say it.”
“So we gotta snag and thrash those shitty Chinese subs.”
Chadwick chimed in, freshly awake. Joanna shut up.
The intel team leader grinned sleepily at Winter. Fumbled in his pocket for a smoke, lit it. No regard for others. Inhaled deep till the tip glowed, exhaled cloudy into the air. Haaa— blissful face.
‘No, that’s not tobacco.’
Winter furrowed his brow. Chadwick’s smoke had a unique smell. Acrid like cigs, but fouler. Weed.
“Team Leader Chadwick.”
“What, Lieutenant?”
“Smoking herb’s your preference, no issue. But indoors? You’re forcing it on others.”
He glanced around—no one but Joanna seemed bothered.
Oh. Chadwick let out a meaningless sigh. Sad face.
“Lieutenant Han must never have tried herb. Well, apologies. Sorry. Haha. Everyone does it here, habit. No chance to mind manners.”
But he dawdled, didn’t put it out. Smacked his lips, slyly asked,
“But Lieutenant, it’s better than you think? Beats cigs. Stress relief jackpot. Wanna try? I’ll spot you one.”
“No. Dulls the body.”
“Oh well.”
Other agents chuckled low. Chadwick finally stubbed it on the table. Pockmarks everywhere—his spot.
Then new people entered. Stocky combat types. Lead guy scanned the room, locked on Winter and Joanna. His face soured.