Peaceful Oxanun
For several days, Yusei focused solely on completing essential university tasks, spending his time at the academic office, clearing out miscellaneous errands.
Even famous overseas gamers say it: just playing games won’t cut it. Studying matters too.
Only the clever survive life’s rough waves without effort. Yusei wasn’t one of them.
After clearing the clutter, he thought, time to dive in and hunt lizards again. The moment he submerged, Goblet’s personal zone had become remarkably lively.
— Hero’s Return!
— Miracle Squad
— Boys who crawled through the month of death
Flashy captions. Grandiose slogans.
Io idly scanned the news stream flowing through the blue sea of light, shaking his head.
“We both—Io and 3552—have complicated pasts, so I was a little worried…
Looks like they’re being welcomed after all.”
Avatar Io has undergone intensive treatment, including emergency procedures, for four days, and is now receiving a lecture from the military press officer.
“Lecture?”
“Rehearsal for press conference responses, proper wear of military ceremonial uniforms, and etiquette for various ceremonies and dining events.”
“Haha, pity you.”
— The truth of the enhanced soldier. The nightmare from ten years ago.
— May Walker: “Honor the Guardian.”
— Fletcher TV Exclusive Live Broadcast! The True Face of Sergeant Io!
The avatar’s behavioral logs were almost comical in their predictability.
Io, dragged from the hospital bed before treatment was complete, attended a perfunctory inquiry, then was immediately forced to cooperate with public relations duties.
It appears the Karaaf Front Army—more precisely, the Sitalskia Coalition—has decided to effectively utilize this spectacle.
“Mr. Io! Do you have a moment?!”
I am currently on duty. I cannot accommodate your request.
Mr.! The public is watching you—your astonishing... yes, extremely astonishing performance is drawing widespread attention!
They want to know about you!
I don’t particularly care if they know me.
Yet this much is clear: the military public relations officer’s so-called briefing isn’t doing much good.
Io maintains a flat expression, indifferent to the advancing media.
Truly cool. You’re always calm. Is that perhaps the key to operational success?
Still, people tend to interpret the actions of those who deliver results favorably.
Brusqueness becomes clumsy sincerity. Cold demeanor becomes composure. Harsh words become proof of combat spirit.
The man who fought enemies while protecting child soldiers, who traversed a thousand kilometers despite countless severe injuries.
Once filtered through that lens, even a reckless challenge is hailed as courage. A simple miscalculation—1 plus 1 wrong—would be brushed off as charm.
Even if Io, in the footage, suddenly punches the reporter unconscious, it’s excused: “He endured extreme conditions, stress built up. The reporter was disrespectful.”
…Or rather, judging by the logs, he actually did punch him unconscious.
Might have missed a crucial event. A regrettable oversight.
“From Carver Ve to here—this journey has been brutal. But you made it.
And you didn’t just save children. You also rescued comrades during retreat… uh, wait a moment.”
Io strides away quickly. Media close behind.
“Mimosh Way: 14th Infantry Company!
Adenant City: Bromat Detachment and two other squads, plus eighteen civilians!”
Rescuing survivors from a destroyed mechanized mixed unit on Mist Highway!
The situation isn't unique—there must be others in the same state!
They didn't come to save you!
I've been ordered to attend press conferences repeatedly. I've said everything necessary.
The public still thinks it's not enough!
Two soldiers step forward.
Cut it out. Sergeant Io said himself—he's on duty.
You're facing riot charges. Just know we're not as lenient as he is, and we won't tolerate this.
Reporter subdued. Camera pushed back.
Soldiers wave at Io as they turn.
We'll handle this side. Go on, Sergeant.
What about you?
No need to worry. You wouldn’t remember anyway… you owe me.
The reporter shouted, pinned down.
Moimisuka Rescue Force!
Sergeant Io stops.
My son was there. You’d have been dead without you. They’d have skinned him alive and hung him from a tree.
His name was Paul. You probably don’t know him.
I apologize for the disrespect. May I have one last handshake? I want to thank you.
Io hesitates, then nods. The soldiers release the reporter.
Sergeant Io, thank you—truly. You’re a hero.
The cameraman captures the handshake. It becomes the headline of a front-page article.
—The Hero of Karaf. A War of Solitude.
You were the better actor, avatar. Far better.
Even indifference and harsh words were neatly edited into a touching anecdote.
Media’s a scary thing. Io was carefree. His self-esteem as a gamer was thoroughly gratified by the high ratings his mission results received.
“Looks like you’ve gotten tangled in a few complications.”
“Not significant enough to warrant concern. We’ll ignore them.”
“You’ve kept meeting Blue Goblet’s demands despite poor physical condition.”
“Now you need nanomachine optimization and bodily recovery.”
“Hmm? No missions on the agenda?”
“…Moderate stress can be beneficial.”
“If you desire combat support, I’ll provide it.”
Freelance mission?
“Then let’s begin.”
“Intervention initiated. Blue Goblet welcomes your return.”
——
——Syltiskia Unified Calendar Year 266. May 15, 08:14 AM
——Eastern end of the Karaf Continent, Oxanun Military Port.
Operation ID: Io-200
"Io! Your mission is public relations! You’re not authorized to launch!"
Io mounted the Condor, ready to take off, checking Raven’s status as he did.
Overcast sky, humid wind. The figure behind him shouted something, barely audible over the rising dust.
Platinum blonde. A TV-ready woman summoned for public relations duty.
Io ignored him. Took his seat. A black-armored squad member greeted him.
"Safe to rest, corporal. No one’ll complain."
The Syndicate Assault Team member known as Boomer.
Current unit 3552 is in rest phase. No mission can be assigned to these underage soldiers who lack combat readiness as a unit.
Even if there were any tasks, they would be assigned to publicity duties—dragged around like Io, treated as exhibition animals.
Still, better than waiting alone and helpless, preyed upon and killed.
That was what Crewk had said.
Thus, when Io decided to join combat, it was convenient to assist Sinclair, who had permission for conscription.
—Being fawned over isn't bad, but I'm sick of it.
—Hah, just looking at you makes me feel sorry for you.
—Io! Are you listening?!
Condor begins ascent. Coated in mud and dust, with several small wounds.
After continuous sortie duty and lacking supplies, it's flying with only minimal maintenance.
A real pain in the ass, that woman. Who the hell is she?
No idea. Probably a colleague on public relations duty.
Probably? You don’t even know her name?
Doesn’t matter.
You… you not interested in women at all?
That Boomer fellow. Something about him reminds me of Jonathan.
Io’s mind drifts to his old friend. Talking too long risks throwing off the rhythm of the roleplay.
—Sergeant, thinking of coming to Sinclair?
A transmission comes in to Little Lady. From the Charger.
Just killing time. Bothering you?
—You’re welcome. …But you were supposed to be seriously injured. Don’t push it.
—Don’t lecture me, the one blown to pieces by Tomas.
They both snort in unison.
—Boomer, I’m loaning the Sergeant to you. Give him a break.
—Copy that, Charger.
Below, Oxanun’s black skyline flows past.
Emergency repair installations. Facilities belching smoke. Almost all travelers passing through are military personnel or refugees awaiting evacuation from the continent.
Thunder rumbles. Rain may come.
Three Condors break through Oxanun’s smog, trailing behind. Charger’s voice cuts in.
—Sinclair unit, focus.
Two died in the Consaul flashpoint three hours ago.
Stonehenge and Falcon—brave man, brave woman.
Silence. For them.
Boomer presses a fist to his forehead, bowing slightly. Io didn’t know the dead of Sinclair, but mimicked the moment’s gravity anyway.
Subtle cues, staged events—these spark realism. Essential for immersion.
—Good. End it.
An intruder joins us this time. We’ll go over the operation for his sake.
Target: 120 kilometers southwest. Power facility seized by an advancing enemy force.
"You’re quite the odd one, aren’t you?"
As Charger continued explaining, Boomer spoke up.
He gripped the railing of the Condor’s hatch, turning to face Io.
"No need to tag along with us. You wouldn’t be in trouble even if you left.
Take all the medals and bonus pay you can carry. Retire with honor.
You could live in luxury on the pension tied to the medals alone."
"My operational objective remains unfulfilled."
"Operational objective?"
"Humanity’s survival."
"Hmph. I’m starting to like you more and more."
Thunder cracked again. Rain began to fall.
Gray sky. Gray city. Condor ascends.
——
Solidbee Power Facility Assault
"Sinclair Zero Four, initiating descent."
Wendigo has disabled the facility functions. All personnel, stand by.
Attack on the power facility seized by the enemy. Sinclair infiltrated silently, eliminated the enemy silently.
Recovered a small but useful amount of resources. Sinclair withdrew from the facility without pause.
Karel Squad Rescue Operation
Rescue request received. We are the only ones capable of immediate response.
Charger, we’re short on hands.
Only units 01 and 04 proceed. The remainder move to the Carmithal rendezvous point as scheduled.
En route to the next objective, a distress call from friendly forces.
Sinclair immediately split the unit. Approximately thirty percent of combat power redirected to rescue the Karel Squad. Io was among them.
Rescue the vehicle unit under enemy attack. Sinclair launched a surprise assault, striking the enemy flank, and achieved the objective in just two minutes and forty seconds. Immediately turned toward the next objective.
Karmital Long-Range Artillery Destruction Operation
"Boomer! I'm taking point!"
"04 advancing! Charger, provide support!"
"Break through the frontline. Friendly Condor will assist, but ground-to-ground attacks are limited to twenty seconds."
"Amateurs with no training! You expect us to die alone?"
"Sinclair forces go on the offensive. Seize each designated point.
Sergeant Io, can you make it?"
"Twenty seconds is enough."
Full-force combat from Sinclair, whose strength is nearing depletion.
The mission: destroy enemy weaponry moving through the Karmital Valley.
The weapons possessed extreme range. Their warhead characteristics rendered them impossible to counter using Oxanun's defense systems.
Sinclair cut through the downpour, breaching the enemy defense line. The mission continued despite losing one Condor and six personnel.
Boomer’s coordination is solid. Unnaturally synchronized.
Operation: Fake deployment against Crewk McGavan
Sergeant, where the hell were you? We’ve been looking for you.
Ah… just took a stroll.
Fourteen hours? Someone claims they saw you fully equipped.
Think I was doing drills before the walk.
Where exactly? With Sinclair all the way to Karmital?
Caught red-handed, aren’t you?
Sergeant! What are you doing without my authorization! You trying to die?!
Sorry, Lieutenant. Honestly, the life here’s a pain.
Order to report to command. Not just me— you too.
Better come up with a good excuse.
Ah, leave that to me. That’s my specialty.
Unauthorized combat engagement without superior approval was, predictably, exposed.
Crouk stormed in, face crimson, hurling a pillow at the wall.
Natalie laughed uproariously, recording the scene.
Still, Io thought.
(Feels like I’m not tiring from long dives anymore. Sixteen hours is pushing it.)
『Blue Goblet enhances your cognitive functions for sustained operations.』
(…Is that a joke?)
『Yes, it is a joke.』
Smiling as it swam through Io’s field of view, Blue Goblet tilted its head.