"Are you getting used to wearing the Life Support Gear?" a veteran mber asked from the side.
"I used the training equipnt during boot camp, but this is my first ti wearing the real thing." Muffled by the fully enclosed Helt, Kyle's voice sounded extrely heavy.
"Press the sweat-absorbing layer tightly against your neck and smooth out the air bubbles, or the itch will kill you when you start sweating."
Taking the senior mber's advice, Kyle raised his hands to adjust it once more.
He was now entirely encased in the protective gear. The armor and skin-tight protective suit covered his hair and every inch of his skin, leaving only the two lenses of his Eyepiece visible from the outside. Combined with the protruding respirator and hoses on his front, he looked like a cheap robot from a low-budget movie. The "Zeta-8" printed on his back and the side of his Helt confird his current identity—a mber of the Mobile Task Force.
'I never thought the day would co when I'd join the Mobile Task Force...'
This was a supre honor, but it also ant facing an equal amount of risk.
Fortunately, Kyle was not afraid of risks.
"Everyone, check your equipnt, test your weapons, and rember your designations." The Captain walked past the group. "Don't forget to test the air valves, otherwise we'll have to turn back to get everyone new compressed air tanks. Rookie, you don't need to carry a Reality Stabilization Anchor this ti. The rest of you, test them one more ti to ensure your Stabilization Anchors are functioning."
The Life Support Suit paired with light combat armor was the exclusive gear for the "Pangolin" Mobile Task Force.
This particular unit specialized in subterranean caves, complex environnts, and operations involving a Spatial Anomaly. A Suit that allowed the wearer to survive for at least a week without any external supplies ant an exponentially higher chance of survival.
However, rumors always circulated within the Managent Authority that the "Pangolin" unit had a ninety percent casualty and missing-in-action rate.
Kyle rapidly checked his firearms and every readout on his Handheld Tablet. Suddenly, soone poked the Tactical Belt at his waist. It was Agent Vanessa. Although all of her physical features were buried beneath the armor, the Eyepiece displayed the designation "N4-6" beside her head—the 6th mber in the 4th operation under the N prefix.
"Unlike your previous experiences dealing with distortions, a Special Communicator cannot be brought near any uncontrolled Hazard Item. Turn it off imdiately and store it in the equipnt case." Her fingertip tapped the casing of the Communication Device.
"I did turn it off."
Kyle unclipped the Communication Device from his Tactical Belt, only to find the screen completely lit up. He could only lower his voice to defend himself.
"I could have sworn I turned it off..."
The indicator light in the corner of the device was blinking faintly. He had no idea who would be sending him a ssage at a ti like this.
When he tapped the screen, the pop-up ssage hit him like a bullet.
[Dump Truck: Keep your Communication Device on you during the operation. If your Officer has any objections, tell them to ask their superiors.]
Shi Rang waited in the Communication Device for a mont, listening as Kyle walked over to request permission from his Officer.
He jumped his connection back to the person in charge of the "Green Island City Operation Command Center" he had just located, confirming that the other party had received the email.
Not long ago, amidst a mountain of files containing the keyword "Green Island City," he discovered supplentary instructions sent to the Command Center. They were still unread and detailed several on-site arrangents. Shi Rang intercepted the email and appended a single sentence to the end of the Mobile Task Force deploynt orders: "Mobile Task Force mbers are permitted to carry their Communication Devices." He signed off with the na "Dump Truck."
Just then, he quietly added the word "Special" in front of "Communication Device."
It was truly wonderful that the Managent Authority had set up their communication and email systems on the Terminal Station intranet. Even a Communication Device could be activated remotely, making it incredibly convenient for him to tamper with things.
The Command Center quickly opened the email. Shortly after, an inquiry was dispatched. Shi Rang grabbed a copy of it from the data stream. He originally assud it was being routed to the Field Departnt, but to his surprise, the recipient was a senior mber of the Intelligence Departnt.
At the end of the data trail, the inquiry was reported all the way up to the Head of Intelligence Departnt, where it was opened instantly.
Shi Rang almost believed he was an S-Class Senator himself. There was no reason for the people inside the Managent Authority to doubt him. His only concern was whether the real Senator would see through his charade.
It was a risky move, but he had to intervene in Kyle's operation.
He needed to know exactly what he had done to this community in Green Island City.
While waiting for good news from Kyle, he suddenly received a private ssage from a "familiar face."
[Harvey, Assistant Director of Intelligence: What are you doing now? Unwilling to take the field yourself, so you switched to remote assistance?]
Harvey was an Alt Account for an S-Class Senator.
Dump Truck was also an S-Class Alt Account.
Neither of them knew the other's true identity.
At this point, Shi Rang was finally certain. The other party had mistaken him for a specific Council mber, rather than treating him as that mysterious Councilor 13.
'But which one exactly?'
'What is their actual personality and behavioral style like?'
Aside from knowing that the Managent Authority's council consisted of twelve people, he knew absolutely nothing about them—no relevant information could be found on the Terminal Station.
'However, this group of people must be incredibly familiar with one another...'
'No, maybe they aren't that familiar with each other. Otherwise, wouldn't "Harvey" just go ask the real person directly?'
'The fact that I've been able to operate in the middle of all this for so long proves that the Council mbers have grudges against one another, or perhaps it just isn't convenient for them to contact and verify things with each other at any given ti.'
Remaining silent this ti might provoke the other party into directly seeking out the real person to verify. He had to give a response.
Shi Rang brainstord a few replies, but felt that all of them had flaws.
Ultimately, he decided to play it aloof.
The less he said, the fewer mistakes he would make.
[Dump Truck: I know what I'm doing.]
[Harvey: We minimize our interference with the lower levels as much as possible, and not just to prevent them from overreacting. You need to rember that if you hadn't been dispatched externally, handling resolutions and paperwork would be your primary duty.]
[Harvey: We'll let it slide this ti. At least you've learned how to command indirectly instead of dressing up as an Agent and running off to contain things yourself. You've made progress, and your typing speed has improved too. I won't report this to Number Six.]
Harvey's typing speed was extraordinarily fast. The mont Shi Rang received and comprehended the previous sentence, the next one had already arrived.
[Harvey: Try to attend a few etings in the future. You've been out of touch for a long ti.]
[Harvey: I won't pursue the matter of you publicly invoking an Analysis earlier, but the next ti you create an account, follow this procedure and turn on the access shield first. (Attached: Operational Tutorial Image)]
[Harvey: The others have had major complaints about you lately. You can do whatever you want in District 12, but don't be so ostentatious in the inland areas or on the intranet. If you pull another stunt like treating the employee chatroom as a private channel with your confidants, randomly throwing Records around, and hurling insults at Number Six, they will initiate a vote to expel you from the council. Try to keep a low profile.]
'Why does the Council mber behind "Harvey" feel a bit... nagging?'
'And what kind of bizarre character is this Council mber they're ntioning? Aren't Council mbers supposed to be terrifying, behind-the-scenes conspirators hidden in the shadows, orchestrating everything with a flick of their fingers?'
Shi Rang had thought his actions, driven by ignorance, were reckless enough, but he never expected there to be soone even more brazen out there.
Regardless, he had successfully managed to bluff his way through.
Shi Rang controlled his physical body in reality to roll over. After confirming that his ntal load was still within a tolerable range, he impatiently shifted his attention back to Kyle.
Having spent so ti on data work, several tens of minutes had passed in the outside world.
The mbers of the "Pangolin" Mobile Task Force had already entered the quarantine zone!
-----------------
"Recorder is on. Everyone, check your own communication systems."
Kyle turned his head to verify that his shoulder-mounted cara was active, lightly tapping his Handheld Tablet. "Check complete."
The others responded one after another.
"Check complete."
"Check complete."
N4-2's reply was rather unique: "Checked and checked."
The Command Center's instructions transmitted through their Headphones: "You are cleared to move out, 'Pangolin'."
Kyle's Eyepiece displayed everyone's call signs. N4-1 was the Captain; N4-2 through 4 were the original mbers of the Mobile Task Force; N4-5 was him; and the last one was Agent Vanessa.
The signal was clear, and their gear was fully equipped. It was ti to move out.
The quarantine gates sealed shut behind them. Kyle tried his best not to imagine whether he would ever see them open again.
He was ready. He had undergone Military Training, he had participated in the advancent courses, and he had made every preparation necessary to join the Mobile Task Force...
"Lower your Gun, Rookie," the Captain called out to him. "We haven't entered the active scene yet. Conserve your stamina and sling your Gun back onto its hook."
Kyle exhaled, the sound of his breath clearly carrying over the comms like a gust of wind. "Yes, Officer."
The squad advanced deep into the Residential Area in a wedge formation.
The filthy, chaotic streets and overcrowded buildings here were exactly as Kyle rembered them. He had conducted interviews and investigations here just last month, so he could still determine the orientation of the primary structures.
With the cars and debris cleared from the streets, he suddenly realized that the road was actually quite wide...
Silent residential buildings stood tall all around them, showing total apathy as the squad advanced through the streets beneath the scorching sun.
Along the way, nothing but white noise emanated from their Headphones.
Their preliminary objective was the residential building at the end of the street. Kyle narrowed his eyes from a distance, allowing his Eyepiece to automatically magnify the view. Illegal expansions were common in communities like this; erecting a few walls to block off a road or illegally constructing makeshift houses could be seen everywhere. Anyone seeing the population density statistics of this place for the first ti would be given a massive shock.
But this building...
"Report."
N4-1: "Spit it out, Kyle. In critical monts, there's no ti for formal reports."
"Understood, Captain. This building is deford. It didn't look like this originally."
Through the zood-in lens, the exterior wall of the building was clearly displayed before everyone. The material and wear of the entire wall were highly consistent, perfectly fused into a single mass. However, a massive number of unevenly and even non-horizontally distributed windows dotted its surface, making it look like a rotting face covered in severe acne. At least four already-bloated, old-fashioned residential buildings had been fused together by so unknown force, mutating into a gigantic, unprecedented structure.
"That is a Spatial Anomaly. You'll learn to completely despise it very soon, Rookie. Just relax," N4-2 said. "Stick close to us, and make absolutely sure you don't get snatched away by it."
Captain: "Command Center, we are about to enter the building."
Command Center: "Good luck."
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