Chapter 92: Eccentricity VS Madness
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 92: Eccentricity VS Madness
I couldn't very well discriminate against the Air Force. So, I started a vlog livestream.
I couldn't stand the thought of my brother’s broadcast stealing my fans, so I considered switching to selfie mode. However, I simply couldn't compromise on the production quality.
The star of this livestream wasn't me—it was the Air Force jets!
"Everyone, when else are you going to see such a bounty of US Air Force jets on a livestream? This is an opportunity you absolutely cannot miss."
I tried to win them over with the planes, but it was frustrating to see my brother’s viewer count still overwhelmingly higher than mine.
└ It’s okay! I have your brother’s stream open in another window!
└ I’m jumping back and forth between the two! It’s fun!
└ Honestly, this is better than a selfie stream. Your brother is actually really good at filming lol.
└ To be fair, Yu-jin’s selfie skills are trash, but her beauty is still god-tier... T_T
The small chat window was scrolling by at a dizzying speed. In moments like this, I cursed my superior dynamic visual acuity. Every bit of "shame damage" was being registered with perfect clarity.
Should I just minimize the chat? No, that would be disrespectful to the fans.
I gritted my teeth and focused on capturing the magnificent Air Force jets, letting the chat blur past as much as possible.
"Everyone, this is a sight you really won't see often. I’m not trying to brag, but it was very difficult to get approval for this high of a security clearance."
└ Aww, is that so?
└ Our Yu-jin, do whatever you want! (While watching the brother’s stream)
└ Yu-jin, you look at the fighters! We’ll look at your face!
└ Look at her face turning red. She’s definitely reading everything we say, isn't she? ㅋㅋㅋ
└ If she’s Rank 1 in Solo Queue, reading chat in split seconds is nothing to her. Her dynamic vision is already post-human.
└ With an Elf’s dynamic vision, wouldn't she be able to read hundreds of chats per second?
"I mean, where in the world is there a person who can read hundreds of messages per second?"
└ She just read it!
└ Busted.
└ Self-certified Elf ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
I really shouldn't react to the chat one by one.
I just had to push forward my own way. Otherwise, I might faint from the sheer suffocating embarrassment.
*
Unbelievable news arrived from Brigadier General Asher, the US Air Force Public Affairs Director.
"Wait, really? I’m finally getting to fly in the Cold?"
"That is correct, Elf."
Seriously, can someone please do something about my callsign...?
But there was a more important matter at hand, so I decided to endure it.
"How did the approval come through so quickly?"
"Because we are the Air Force."
For a moment, the Panokseon Rower inside me wanted to scream, but I suppressed it.
Rower, read the room and stay quiet. Today, Lee Yu-jin is a proud Honorary Air Force member.
Sorry, Ford.
But the coolest fighter jet in the world is the one you can get in and fly right now.
Besides, this was an unannounced Top Secret project that might even be scrapped. How could I possibly resist?
"Of course, before you fly, you’ll undergo final type-rating training in the simulator."
"Understood! Of course!"
"You’ve trained enough on the F-22 Raptor's controls, so you’ll pick it up quickly. Especially with your exceptional piloting talent, Elf."
The excitement of finally seeing the Cold’s cockpit outweighed the shame of the callsign. Even if I was only seeing it through a simulation for now.
And so, I climbed back into a VR simulator—a downgraded version of the Full Flight Simulator found on the Ford aircraft carrier.
But then I noticed something strange.
"Why is there a control stick in the back seat? Is the setting wrong?"
I had sat in the front seat of the Cold once before to take a photo for my SNS launch.
Back then, I hadn't been able to see the back seat because of security clearance, but looking at the simulator now, there was a control stick there.
The core of a two-seater fighter is a strict division of labor.
The pilot in the front flies, while the pilot in the back handles things like weapon systems.
The current trend for actual airframes is to not even include a spare control stick in the back seat.
In the design of cutting-edge fighters, where every ounce of weight must be optimized to cram in as much tech as possible, adding a secondary control stick is considered a waste.
"Because the flight data for this aircraft is extremely precious, we’ve accounted for worst-case scenarios. Even if something happens to the lead pilot, the weapon systems officer can bring the aircraft back safely instead of just ejecting."
"Could it be that things like that kept piling up, driving the manufacturing cost too high? And that’s what eventually led to the program’s crisis...?"
"You’re not entirely wrong. As expected of Elf—insight worthy of an Honorary Air Force member. You’re thinking at the level of the Cold’s designers."
I didn't expect to hear the same phrase I often use to tease GPT and Jang Ji-hye.
"Then, let’s begin the training. Since you’re used to the Raptor, it shouldn't be too difficult."
"Yes, sir!"
The reason I was learning to fly from the Air Force and Navy wasn't to actually become a pilot, but to do "deep learning" so I could act the part of a pilot realistically.
Sometimes, after seeing incredible simulation results, I’d feel like, 'If only they’d let me fly it just once...' Actually, I felt that way every day, but I kept it bottled up and never let it show.
A soldier doesn't whine. They don't grumble. They simply follow orders.
I trained hard, and once again, I was able to earn a satisfying "Okay" from everyone.
*
With the actual flight of the Cold approaching, I received word that part of the film crew was rushing into the country.
"Main filming is still a long way off, isn't it?"
"Noona, taking a fighter jet up isn't a casual thing. So they’re going to film everything they can during the actual flight first."
"That makes sense. But I feel a bit weird."
"About me knowing something you didn't?"
"Hey, little brother, shall we do some physical training for the first time in a while?"
"Fine, I'll show you how much I've changed."
I didn't know what exactly had changed, but I warmed up my hands by drumming on my brother as if he were a timpani.
When the brother I was sitting on started groaning and tapping out, I moved my butt off him.
"You're so weak. How are you going to protect your future wife and kids from a gang of robbers armed with miniguns?"
"How am I even supposed to protect them from that...?"
"You have to run over and smash them before they can even lift their barrels."
My brother suddenly acted all excited as if he’d remembered something.
"Oh, right, Noona. Remember Mr. Tange? The heavyweight champion who showed off that showmanship by passing out after your Soy Sauce Punch."
"What about him?"
The WBC Heavyweight Defending Champion who said getting hit by me was on his bucket list.
His total fight purse back then was over 30 billion won, and he donated 80% of it to my pediatric patient foundation. He’s a truly wonderful fan.
"Was that a serious punch back then? Or..."
"I controlled my strength. But seeing him hold out, I thought, 'As expected of a champion.' And then he even had the showmanship to pretend to collapse when he couldn't take it anymore... man, you don't become a consecutive defending champion for nothing."
"He’s telling everyone that he actually blacked out."
"What? He really passed out? I guess my punch works even on a world heavyweight champion."
I had wondered occasionally whether it was pure showmanship or if my punch had actually been effective.
"But nobody around him believes it. Everyone thinks he’s just committed to the bit. It’s actually made him more popular."
"Hmm, was it really showmanship? It felt like a really solid Soy Sauce Punch, though. Even if I did hold back a little..."
I took a look at the video of Mr. Tange that my brother showed me.
[Mr. Tange: "Actress Yu-jin needs to start boxing immediately! It’s a tragedy to let that talent go to waste! That punching power is the real deal! Why would I go to such pathetic lengths for showmanship?!"]
"As a veteran actress with over 70 billion won in appearance fees, I can tell you for sure—this is sincere. It’s definitely not acting. The emotion is just dripping off him."
"Right? I thought your punch landed properly too, but then I got confused, thinking maybe world heavyweight champions are just built different."
My brother doesn't suspect that my monstrous strength and physicality are weird. I believe it’s because I’ve raised him well since we were young.
"If God has a conscience, He wouldn't have just given me these looks. He’d give me the strength to protect them too, just to be fair. Otherwise, I’d have ended up as one of those 'beautiful women who die young,' ruined by the desires of men with money and power."
"Okay, that’s it. You need to get hit one more time."
*
Even though main filming hadn't started yet, the crew from Hollywood arrived.
They gave me detailed instructions on how to handle the equipment for self-filming.
Since I would be the only one in the back seat of the F-22 Cold, I had to handle all the filming myself.
The problem was that my sense for selfies was terrible...
"We’ll install as many cameras as possible, so please just focus on the camera positions and angles."
"I’ll do my best."
While waiting for the crew to finish installing the cameras in the back seat under the supervision of an Air Force officer, the male pilot flying with me today approached.
"Hi, Elf."
"Hi, hi."
"So... you’re a High Elf, right?"
T-this was an attack I hadn't anticipated. An angle I’d never been hit from before...
So this is the ambush capability of an Air Force ace...
I had to stay sharp.
"I’m a black-haired human."
"O.K. Let’s go with that concept."
"Somehow, you seem like you’d fit in better with the Navy than the Air Force."
"Haha, those guys who are always restless, trying to flaunt their 'eccentricity' that’s actually just madness to everyone?"
"What’s your callsign?"
"Brad. Because I have a gluten allergy. I can't eat bread."
He didn't bother giving his real name. That meant he considered his callsign a more important part of his identity.
"During the filming period, I’ll be escorting the High-Elf at the highest (High) altitude. Looking forward to working with you."
"...Looking forward to it."
He was intentionally putting a heavy accent on the "High" parts, making me cringe so hard my hands and feet were curling.
"Could I get an autograph and a photo? My daughter really loves the High Elf."
"Oh, sure."
Lieutenant Colonel Brad fumbled around and pulled out a large photo of his daughter, getting my autograph on the back and tucking it away carefully. We also took a photo together with the Cold in the background.
Finally! I’m going to fly a fighter jet into the sky!
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Once I sat in the back seat of the cockpit and put on all the safety gear, my racing heart actually began to steady.
A cozy calmness enveloped my entire body.
While the aircraft taxied to the runway and took its position, the film crew was taking exterior shots from various angles.
"Hey, Elf. I heard the stories. That you’ve got the 'eccentricity' of a natural-born ace."
He was probably talking about my 1-vs-4 parachute teabagging finale in the simulator on the first day.
I countered confidently.
"That wasn't eccentricity. It was style and tactics. A cold-blooded decision to provoke the opponent so they couldn't make rational judgments."
"Can I look forward to that eccentricity today?"
"I told you, it’s style and tactics, not eccentricity."
Brad laughed.
"Heh... Elf, what’s your image of our Air Force?"
"Hmm, a sophisticated Chairman who can't sleep without a hotel even on a battlefield?"
"That’s a distorted public image. If the Navy has eccentricity, we have madness."
"Really?"
"The difference is, we don't go around flaunting it everywhere like the Navy does. We just quietly boast to each other in the highest reaches of the sky. That’s why people don't know."
Reflected in the mirror, his eyes inside the helmet were smiling strangely.
"The Navy’s eccentricity is nothing in front of our Air Force. We even pulled off that crazy stunt called the Berlin Airlift."
"You weren't even born then."
"My grandfather participated in that operation as a pilot."
"Oh, I’m sorry. You come from a distinguished lineage."
The smile in his eyes reflected in the mirror grew even deeper.
"Shall we go then? To the highest sky, where the winged squids can never reach."
The aircraft kicked off the runway with power, rapidly gaining speed before taking off in an instant.
Whoa!
I had experienced it in the simulator, but feeling it with my actual body was a different class of thrill.
After completing a Cobra maneuver and pulling into a vertical climb, the aircraft accelerated explosively, piercing through the clouds as if it intended to fly all the way to space.
Finally, a layer of white clouds spread out far, far below.
The highest sky, where commercial planes can never come, and where even Navy carrier-based aircraft cannot reach.
In the midst of the blue clarity covering everything, I relished the feeling of infinite freedom.
Lieutenant Colonel Brad, having leveled the angle of attack, wrote something on a piece of paper and showed it to me.
[Your aircraft. Just trust me.]