Chapter 145
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: Peep Show Grey (2)
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Time passed, and Winter obtained a concrete disguise identity. Kurt Lee. A Chinese-American, a 22-year-old veteran who had been through the Iraq deployment, with the setup that he was called by his active-duty rank at the fictional private military company Orca Black. So the team members still called him Lieutenant.
He was given props like an ID card and passport. Items to casually drop somewhere.
When he heard Winter's new name, Captain Fowler wore a subtle expression.
“Do you know whose name that originally belonged to?”
It turned out there was a war hero with the same name. Kurt Chew-Een Lee. He was the Marine Corps' first Asian-American officer. A Chinese-American who had received the Navy Cross during the Korean War. It meant he had come right up to the Medal of Honor.
Considering the Marine Corps' pride, it could have been unpleasant. But unexpectedly, the captain nodded.
“It suits you pretty well. Since he fought against the Chinese Communist forces, there's a connection to the current situation. He probably wouldn't mind lending his name. Even though you're not a Marine.”
He still didn't meet eyes when he spoke.
And today, Winter was heading out on his first patrol as Kurt Lee. Waiting in the lounge after arriving early for the team members he would go out with. Ah, almost forgot. Winter took out a plastic case from his pocket. He opened the lid. It was filled with small white tablets. He put one in his mouth and chewed it with a crunch. He didn't swallow the broken pieces but rolled them on his tongue to dissolve. It was incredibly bitter. His tongue felt numb.
「Survival Instinct」 reacted. There was a faint toxicity.
A moment later, the unpleasant feeling spread to the back of his throat.
“Ah, ah.”
His voice had changed.
This drug took effect upon contact with mucous membranes and was neutralized by acid. The side effect was just temporary stomach discomfort. Those with weak tonsils might develop a slight fever. That's what he had heard.
Even after the pill fully dissolved, the bitterness didn't fade. His mouth was parched. Otherwise, it was fine.
A new person entered the lounge. It was Staff Sergeant Dwayne Wolf, whom he had gotten acquainted with during guard duty. He frowned at the sight of the still-uncapped pill bottle.
“Did you take that pill?”
“Yes.”
The voice that replied was at the level of grinding metal. The sergeant made a face of disgust.
“After taking that, nothing tastes good no matter what you eat. It's like your sense of taste dulls? It's not just me; it's a shame. You'll have to keep taking it from now on, Lieutenant.”
“No choice. But why did the sergeant take it?”
“It was a deception tactic for when we were short on manpower. We needed to plant the illusion of continuous personnel turnover. Even to our own people.”
Indeed. The externally recruited organization members had diverse nationalities, origins, and backgrounds. Winter had seen the organization roster before. It wasn't an exaggeration to say it included every nationality from the Pacific Rim.
‘There were surprisingly many from South America.’
Therefore, even without infiltrators from other factions, Orca Black's organization itself—operated with inner and outer circles separated—was an element of instability. A ruling class separated like water and oil. A closed structure where desires for upward mobility couldn't be fulfilled. No matter how devoted they were to the organization, they only received material rewards.
But even that was hardly sufficient. This was a prosperous city. A place where humans and trash rotted together. No matter how well distributed, scarcity was inevitable.
The heterogeneity between rulers and ruled was also a problem. Even basic communication was tricky. Only a few members could speak foreign languages. Otherwise, they had to rely on interpreters.
‘They say three people gathered already make a society?’
The alternative was fear and suppression. It explained why America's elite special forces were complaining of fatigue.
By the time he had pondered this far, two more people entered. They gave Winter a rough salute and took their seats. Four specialists wearing slightly different gear. This was the basic unit for external missions.
A short while later, the previous patrol team returned.
“Hard work, Lieutenant Christensen. Nothing out of the ordinary?”
To Winter's greeting, the returning leader hesitated as he chose his words.
“Something out of the ordinary... Well, not bad. The first harvest is underway at the farm. It was surprisingly worth watching. It was novel to see something other than marijuana being cultivated in this godforsaken place.”
He had come across information about the farm in documents. He had wanted to see it once.
Christensen and Winter were still awkward with each other. The conversation didn't last long. “Then, hard work.” Leaving the ritual farewell, Christensen went off to rest with his team.
“Let’s head out.”
At Winter's words, Staff Sergeant Wolf radioed in. Communication with the situation room. He announced the start of the patrol.
The remaining two stood up leisurely and put on their gas masks. They were people who had run special operations, so the lowest rank among them was sergeant. Even that wasn't comparable to a regular unit's sergeant. It was nominally the same rank, but in reality, they were one or two levels higher. Their pay levels reflected that as well.
If he hadn't proven his skills, Winter would have been unilaterally ignored.
‘He might have been treated like an armed interpreter.’
In fact, there were still many who were reluctant. People who felt a sense of self-loathing from the skills Winter had demonstrated.
There was no need for a grand reason for one person to hate another.
The fortunate thing was that Captain Fowler was sensitive to such matters. Was it the gravitas from his time as a commander? He had appropriately mixed the team compositions. It was also why he met Staff Sergeant Wolf so often.
“Unit, attention!”
A booming command rang out. They were the external organization members who had been waiting outside headquarters. Regardless of their inner thoughts, they appeared sharply disciplined on the surface. Winter reminded himself once more. Fear and suppression. Strong control.
He had been pre-briefed on how to act, down to the smallest gestures.
In front of the organization members lined up on the yacht deck, Winter ascended the podium.
A ripple of agitation spread. Winter still hadn't put on his gas mask. So the majority of the agitation was probably not because they were seeing a new superior, but because despite his fierce impression, he still looked too young. Among the combatants of the augmented platoon-sized unit, eleven had failed to control their expressions.
One of the organization members naturally stepped forward and stood beside the podium.
“Roster.”
When Winter held out his hand, the foremost man among the eleven stepped forward with precise movements. Thud, thud, thud. Traces of Marine Corps recruit training remained. Winter received the tattered booklet from him. He called out the names in order from the top. Tang Wenzhan, Yu Yishan, Shui Ejou, Zentai...
All Chinese. He had heard that action teams unified nationalities by unit.
A typical U.S. military roll call ended with the commander's call, but not here.
“We will now inspect weapon status and remaining live ammo. First row, forward.”
And then, 「Intimidation」 was intentionally unleashed. Before forming alliances, Winter had already been a beast-level presence. Now, with his multiple combat skills in the superhuman realm...
This was applied only to potential enemies. The White Skull members looked puzzled at the stiffened external action team members. In any case, they conducted the inspections on behalf of their commander, Winter.
“Second row, forward.”
The organization members knelt and disassembled and reassembled their weapons.
Since it was a set procedure, even if he spoke in English up to this point, they all understood easily.
The operation period was long, too. To gain favor, they would have diligently learned the languages of those in power. The CIA would have taught them diligently to increase control.
‘If they're trusted with firearms, it means they're at least reliable within the outer organization...’
Where did that trust come from? It was thanks to displays of firepower and skill. Until a unit on the level of DEVGRU couldn't endure the accumulated damage and withdrew. Maintaining order and fair distribution came after that.
It was also hard to restrict the organization members' armaments.
Orca Black's territory was nearly 8 kilometers in circumference. It was overwhelming just to maintain control. They couldn't shrink the territory either. It would create holes in Block 9's siege.
When the third row began, one man's foot got tangled. In his tension, he floundered and made a second mistake. His hand slipped while pulling the magazine. Trying to grab the falling magazine, he dropped the rifle too. The metallic clatter rolled loudly.
“You there. Come out with your rifle. Leave the magazine where it is.”
Another ripple of agitation flowed at the fluent Chinese. He beckoned curtly. The man was drawn out to the podium. Winter held out his hand. Just like when receiving the roster. The fumbling man handed over his rifle.
Clack. Winter snatched it and spun it around. He positioned the safety upward and showed it to the man who had made the mistake.
“Safety not confirmed before inspection.”
Then he spun it back and racked the charging handle. With a clunk, he caught the ejected round with a blurred hand. Up to this point, it was an act imitating a Marine Corps drill instructor. Monsters who crushed recruits' souls.
“And with a live round in the chamber.”
Meaning it wouldn't have been strange if it had discharged from the impact.
“A weapon is a fighter's life. So what you dropped was your own life, but you nearly severed your comrades' lives too. Do you have any reason convincing enough for everyone?”
“I was nervous... I made a mistake.”
“That's not a reason, Xian Biao. It's an excuse.”
Winter held the rifle in one hand and the man in the other. The onlookers' faces changed. Because no weight was felt in the movements. Winter said to the opponent now at eye level.
“Reflect on it.”
Then he hurled him. The projectile sailed over the railing. The splash reached the handrail.
There might be other ways to seize the mood, but it would negate what Orca Black had built up. Unless Winter was in overall command, discord was inevitable.
‘Not to my taste, but no choice.’
To begin with, the fault lay with the one who carried a loaded rifle without the safety on. If it had been a border area, it might have been different.
Winter approached the railing with clear boot steps and saw the dropped man clambering onto a floating object. Who had abandoned it from which boat? It was a child's yellow rubber duck boat.
“Wolf Sergeant.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
“Whole unit, PT until the dropped member returns.”
“Understood.”
It was a Marine's true nature. The sergeant immediately issued orders without hesitation.
“Tang Sergeant. Interpret.”
Orca Black's lowest rank was corporal, so the external organization's highest rank was sergeant. There were a few exceptions in the received documents. They were effectively honorary ranks.
“Orca Black never abandons a comrade anywhere. A comrade's joy is my joy, a comrade's sorrow is my sorrow, a comrade's life is my life, a comrade's death is my death! Then, naturally, shouldn't we all share responsibility for one person's mistake! Push-ups, you dickheads! One for your comrade. Two, hurry up. To position!”
Sergeant! Is your head a dickhead? Can't interpret faster! The sergeant's barking was harsh, but in truth, this was the most benign level within Golden Gate.
‘Whether crime syndicates or soldiers turned warlords.’
An army without pride and discipline was no longer an army. It was hard for a military without a government to maintain pride. Knowing this, Chinese officers treated their soldiers extremely harshly. This was also a way to demonstrate discipline, so they didn't bother hiding it.
Crime organizations like the Black Guerrillas were even worse. Initiation rites were group beatings. They only accepted the strong and tough. Numerous died in the process, and even those who got in remained at the bottom of the hierarchy for a while. Too many in the ruling class was a problem.
The sergeant counted at an appropriate pace. He pushed hard in bursts but mixed in insults to give rest intervals. His pacing was excellent.
Having experienced it himself, he was probably even better at it? Watching, Winter thought that was likely the answer.
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
#Daily Update
The daily update that everyone hopes for—truthfully, the author wants to do it very much too.
But it's not that I'm not doing it; I can't.
For example, the Eolian Harp arc took a full two days to write. With a three-hour nap in between.
I'm running on such crappy old specs. Hehe. Feels like a failed full-time writer...
#Q&A
Q. CurryRice: @Blatant Trump satire, huh.
A. Immigrant rejection and isolationism are far-right staples... I didn't specifically think of Trump when writing it, but with America as the backdrop, it's unavoidable, huh. Haha.
Q. OneChance: @By the way, what happened to North Korea in the outside world?
A. It fell in a week. There are a few survivors. Their condition is probably as you can imagine. Chance of appearance is very low.
Q. svjk: @Chills. Lately with politics, it makes me think a lot. Good deeds in an increasingly worsening anxious situation. I can say it's right, but if asked if I could do it... Well... How about you, author?
A. Being human is inherently endlessly tough. I want to preserve innocence, but I question if it's possible for me. Probably everyone does. Unless you're a sage.
In the story, Joanna said it. That anyone can overcome their limits. I hope so.
Yes, I hope so. I want to be human today, and a better human tomorrow.