November 2nd, Port Moore.
Not long ago, the vehicles that had filled the roads were finally finding their spots, and after receiving their room keycards, the competition participants—special forces soldiers from various countries—gradually regained their composure and beca familiar with Port Moore.
However, despite most of them thinking that things were settling down, Port Moore had no intention of leaving the 65 participants to their own devices.
After these soldiers unpacked and finished their dinners, they were given a brief mont of comfort known as "sleep," before the base… began bombarding their minds with an enormous amount of information under the guise of a pre-briefing starting the very next day.
There was no physical exertion.
In fact, it was much more comfortable than the usual training. The soldiers spent the whole day in lecture halls, listening to explanations about the competition events and where these events would be held across the base.
However, no one let their guard down. Everyone had their recorders on by default, making sure not to miss a single word. Many were drawing diagrams on paper, projecting holograms, and creating 3D maps to simulate how they would need to maneuver.
The limited ti available and the sheer number of events to prepare for—12 in total—made it clear that simply preparing with that amount of information would never be enough. For example, the infiltration and assault missions alone would take up two to three days, while the 32 two-person teams had to complete the remaining 11 events within four days.
There was no real ti to prepare for the competition. The only thing that mattered was how much training they had undergone and how much they had internalized through muscle mory.
Thus, while the soldiers from various countries—especially those outside the US—discussed how to proceed, Logan and I…
"Did you know the presidential election overlaps with the sniper competition?"
"Yeah, I saw the voting app on my terminal. It’s crazy how it’s all digital now. There used to be such a fuss about electronic voting—no one trusted it, but now you can vote while traveling. The world really has changed."
"Well, at least it’s not all bad. Seems like it’s pretty clear who’s going to win anyway."
This conversation was simple enough.
The reason? As I ntioned earlier, the election was scheduled for November 7th, the day before the tactical mission to infiltrate the fort. Strictly speaking, it was the Electoral College vote, but I couldn’t exactly go into the details of the US election system here.
Anyway, Logan and I were chatting without much thought.
"I never thought I’d vote for the Democratic Party while holding a gun."
"Well, Alaska’s a Republican stronghold. But Henry… didn’t he run on a lot of bipartisan policies? Looking at his platform, there are even so pro-Republican policies in there, like supporting veterans."
"Yeah, but to , it just looks like he wrapped up things that Icarus International could handle and passed them off as his own policies."
"Could be, but without people like him, no one would even know what’s going on. Knowing how to wrap things up is a skill, and in the end, so people really benefit from it."
To sum it up simply: The US Democrats were progressive, while the Republicans were conservative.
Though the parties had grown so large that they were more like big tents now, the political situation was still chaotic. Henry’s policies, which had been sowhat vague in parts, were making things more confusing—pushing welfare expansion and gun control while introducing a veteran support program, for example.
The political analysts in the US had co to one conclusion: Henry wasn’t teaming up with moderate progressives within the Republican Party, but rather offering an olive branch to them.
We didn’t get into all that during our conversation, but the veteran support policy still felt ambiguous—was it sothing the Democrats would propose or the Republicans?
And there was a reason why military personnel were likely to support Henry.
"People who know him understand what he did to pull Arica through the Dark Winter crisis," I said.
"True."
After the Dark Winter crisis, there were rumors that the president didn’t get more than three hours of sleep a night. He had collapsed more than ten tis under the pressure, had undergone three major surgeries, and had nearly been assassinated dozens of tis.
There had even been a terrorist attempting to crash a comrcial plane into Central Park.
Thanks to the Icarus Gear, which brought him dangerously close to a singularity, he had endured trendous physical strain and injuries and survived multiple surgeries and health problems. Otherwise, he might have ended up buried in Arlington.
Those closest to him during that ti, who had witnessed it firsthand, now made up much of the current US administration, and they saw just how resilient Henry was.
Of course, Logan and I knew that as well.
"If he screws up, I’ll squeeze the money out of him," I joked.
"I hope it doesn’t co to that. But if he starts dragging, I’ll be sure he can’t ignore my ‘advice’—the next ti he’s hobbling around, I’ll fix him up."
"That’s terrifying. You should go ask for a raise for the special forces guys. Maybe talk about getting Olivia in the army with so age adjustnts."
"That could probably be arranged, but who knows…"
Our conversation dropped off as I checked the ti and began listening carefully to the footsteps growing louder from behind. There was still ti before we had to head back to the briefing room, but I recognized that sound.
I remained silent and turned to look down the alley behind us. Logan followed my lead, and after a brief mont, two figures began walking toward us—two people I recognized, though not from personal ties.
Nationality.
The familiar urban camo uniforms. The eagle, anchor, mine and knife insignia, and the trident all combined into a military unit emblem. Other small distinguishing marks, too.
At that mont, I extended my hand and greeted them in Korean.
"It’s great to et you here. You must have traveled a long way. I hope you’ve adjusted to the ti difference. I’m Eugene, part of the JSOC SMU team."
"…I heard a familiar voice and thought I’d check, but I never imagined you’d be here. Nice to et you. Staff Sergeant Yoo Hyunho from the UDT."
"Sergeant Kim Haeil. A few months ago, we had a knife-fighting class with DEVGRU, and I have to say, your dagger techniques were impressive."
"…Really?"
It didn’t take long for to figure out who the culprit was. DEVGRU? Of course, it was that damn shark we were working with on the judging panel. And now my dagger techniques were part of their curriculum.
I rubbed my head and let out a dry laugh as Logan ca up and ruffled my hair, before greeting the two in Korean—he had beco proficient in the language after visiting Korea several tis before moving here.
"Good to see you. I’m Logan, also with JSOC SMU. I go way back with that damn shark. It must have been a real hassle traveling all this way."
"Haha, distance doesn’t really matter. What’s really concerning is how to handle the competition. There were so events that really threw off. Seems like typical US-style creativity. We’ll need to work hard to keep up."
"Yeah, the events in this competition are tough. We’ll be able to learn a lot and apply it to real-world scenarios. You need more than just shooting skills—things like obstacle navigation, endurance, stress managent, target identification, and long-range shooting are all part of the missions."
"Exactly. In the 30 hours we have to complete 60km of rough terrain, it’s going to be a huge challenge."
Yeah.
It might seem easier compared to other tests—like SAS’s 18-hour, 64km endurance challenge—but that was an oversimplification. They carry 20kg, while here, we have to carry at least double that, two rifles, and we could be shot at.
If shot, the sensors would detect it, and if seriously wounded, we’d have to be transported to a specific point. If anyone dies, the team is disqualified. And of course, it’s up to us to counter-snipe any enemy shooters.
Even after walking for dozens of kiloters to reach the fort, we still had to analyze the area, track humanoid robots, figure out which targets to eliminate, and do it all within the allotted ti.
In short, the sniper competition was a complete test package.
Failing was almost a given, but success would an being recognized as an operator who could be deployed in real combat and achieve optimal results.
"Even though I’m participating as an outsider, I’m not going to slack off. I hope you two get great results."
"Of course. We’ll be watching closely, sharpening our skills. After all, we have to learn as much as we can. Haha."
"I hope so."
We exchanged handshakes and greetings.
It was strange seeing two familiar faces who had arrived from the sa country I had just left—just a bit later or around the sa ti—here in Georgia.
But there was no ti for sentint. The Icarus Gear beeped, signaling it was ti to head back to the briefing room.
"Let’s go."
"Right."
The ti was almost here.
"These are the sniper turrets. On the left is the UAV drone."
With a subtle sound, familiar equipnt was placed on the table. It wasn’t the friendly voice or mischievous tone I was used to hearing from Logan, Olivia, or my students. It was a cold, commanding voice—one with an air of authority, the kind only a predator could have.
But no one seed to mind. These soldiers were used to that kind of pressure. Their eyes were locked on the turret and drone—items they had never seen before.
"…Are they already field-tested and deployed in real combat?"
The significance of showing this gear was clear.
Military equipnt, especially items used in combat, must et the highest standards of reliability and performance. Anything untested won’t make the cut. So, showing them here ant these tools were ready for deploynt.
Soone next to Lorentina pulled sothing from their bag—a visor for a helt. They skillfully assembled it, and it imdiately integrated with the helt, ready for use.
Lorentina continued.
"Adapting to rapidly changing battlefield conditions is the operator's responsibility, but using new technologies effectively is just as important."
If a sniper or scout can’t take out the enemy patrol with a single shot…
Or if they need to escape while avoiding heavy surveillance…
Or if they need to draw enemy attention continuously…
Warfare is more like an ever-changing organism than a simple series of actions. Operators must adapt in real-ti, adjusting their moves. Of course, this is different from simply using brute force or overwhelming firepower.
But in regular conditions, if used correctly, these combat-assist tools could be incredibly helpful.
And so, Lorentina explained further.
"While you won’t be using these tools on the first day, they may co in handy for the fort assault mission later. I can’t predict how much impact these devices will have, but I believe you’re the ones who can handle them."
This combat-assist equipnt is available once a day. Each team can only borrow one, and you’ll be given more details about the return tis and penalties later. Additionally, during the sniper competition, you’ll be completely isolated from the outside world, both physically and electronically.
The implication was clear: any data related to the gear or its operation couldn’t be transmitted outside.
But honestly… it didn’t matter much. The real focus was on the firing control software.
That program had been optimized countless tis with over six years of combat data. The difference between the standard engagent data and the battle data from the Dark Winter crisis was on another level.
Logan and I exchanged a quiet conversation, knowing exactly what was coming.
"I guess everyone will be using reconnaissance drones, huh? What do you think?"
"Of course. Drones with stealth features, noise suppression, and real-ti marking functions—everyone will love them. But once they realize how insane the sniper turret's performance is, they'll forget about the drones."
"Exactly."
Eventually, only Logan and I would get the fun. But there was no ti to dwell on that. Lorentina motioned for us to stand and head outside to the nearby range.
There, we equipped the helts integrated with the visors and imdiately saw a plethora of holograms floating before us. It wasn’t as advanced as the Icarus contact lenses I had, but it was still impressive.
"Let’s test the reconnaissance drones first," Lorentina said.
The shark didn't even need a controller. He operated the drone with just his gaze.
While the operation wasn’t particularly extraordinary, the drone continuously pulsed and scanned the surroundings. The terrain and enemy positions were imdiately synced with the visor, even showing how to adjust the shot for the perfect aim.
As I watched the demonstration, I couldn’t help but think about the potential implications for the competition.
"Can these drones be used during the competition?"
"So events are centered on controlling drones or turrets. So events allow their use, while others don’t. Sotis, they could turn into dead weight. But in so cases, you’ll have to accept the consequences of your choices."
It was clear enough. Depending on the competition, teams could be saddled with drones or turrets all day. And there were humanoid missions, too. That might involve shooting targets with these devices.
Safety regulations would have humanoids using lasers, but getting hit would count as a disqualification. The drones and turrets were no exception.
The choice of equipnt would likely determine a lot about the outco. Logan and I exchanged a knowing glance.
"Selection and focus, and accepting the results. It’s a common scenario, right?"
"Yeah, exactly."
Whether or not the shiny new toys would catch everyone’s attention, only ti would tell. But from our experience, we could already see how those distracted by the sparkle might end up in trouble.
And that, really, was the last thing I wanted to see.
The day before the sniper competition went by quickly, but we knew it wasn’t over yet.
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