When I first heard about the role of on-site control, I thought it would be an easier training compared to what we usually do. The team wouldn’t be shaken just because one member was missing, and since we’ve been doing well with the annual training, there wasn’t much to worry about.
However, after fully understanding the training details and receiving instructions on the day of the training, it turned out to be quite different from what I had imagined. I thought the job was to control civilians approaching the training ground, but it also involved relaying information obtained externally to our allies to designate training routes.
Of course, we don’t move exactly as instructed; within the training ground, we adapt to changing situations dynamically. It seems that the evaluation criteria for this training lie in responding to unconventional situations and achieving objectives.
Although I felt it would be more cumbersome, by the time I received these instructions, I had already parted ways with my team members, and only the on-site control personnel remained.
Unexpectedly, even after the training began, I didn’t have much to do. While I could communicate via radio with my team, there were no incoming reports or information to convey, so I spent my time under the scorching sun at the entrance to the training ground.
Maybe they’re performing better than I thought, so my help isn’t really needed. Realizing why experienced personnel were chosen for on-site control, I wondered if it was necessary to have such experienced people when the situation turned out like this.
“Team 3-3 will move to the next point.”
“3-4 confirmed. No issues in the rear.”
Through the radio attached to my helmet, I could hear my teammates’ voices. Since it was a public channel, it was hard to consider these reports individually, and even if I did hear them, there was no additional information to pass on to my teammates.
I stood idly, imagining where and how my teammates were moving by drawing the training ground map in my mind, and I could only confirm that they were proceeding smoothly through the training.
The opponents in this training were Spacystro soldiers stationed in this area and officers from the main force. The main force refers to the Spacystro ships located in the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans, and it seemed that the officers in this training came from an Atlantic ship.
It didn’t matter where the officers came from. The goal was simply to oppose them according to the training content and achieve the objective. The purpose of this training was to navigate through a course set up at the summit and defeat simulated opponents, scoring based on time and training content upon arrival.
Despite the climate differences, thousands of teams worldwide take the same test, leading to a ranking competition within the ranks. Our team, which excels in training, has consistently achieved good results each year, so I wasn’t particularly worried.
In short, all I needed to do was wait and respond to any unexpected situations. But I overlooked one thing: problems always arise when you least expect them.
After yesterday’s intense interaction with HunterKiller members, I thought today wouldn’t involve meeting them. We had only one day off, and today was dedicated to focusing on training, leaving no room to think about encountering anyone.
“Spacystro?”
I never expected to meet HunterKiller members again on the path leading to the training ground. Even more surprising was why they were…
Unlike their swimsuits from yesterday, HunterKiller members were wearing light summer clothes. Although I didn’t know where they were going, they were passing by the path leading to the training ground, and I met them in my suit.
“What are you doing here?”
If I saw them at the beach, I’d assume they were there for fun, but standing in a suit at the path leading to the mountain looked suspicious. Though it wasn’t completely deserted, I hadn’t encountered anyone until today, and the first person I met was a HunterKiller member.
Yubin gave me a wary look, and it genuinely hurt to receive such a look from her. Without revealing my identity, I couldn’t ask why I was there or where the HunterKiller members were going, so I could only sweat under my helmet.
Knowing that Spacystro soldiers don’t reveal individual information to prevent information leaks, HunterKiller members didn’t question us further. However, they started speculating.
“Is something strange happening here?”
“It’s suspicious to see someone in a suit pretending to be on vacation.”
Yubin and Yura began guessing why I was there, and when I noticed their intense gazes, I saw Hyeong’s wary eyes. Did she always look at Spacystro with such suspicion through her helmet?
Being stared at sharply by Hyeong hurt more than being stared at by Yubin and Yura. I felt like I was doing something wrong.
“Should we take off their helmets?”
At SuA’s explosive statement, I quickly turned away and backed off. If it became known that I met everyone simultaneously, the situation would be uncontrollable, and if it was revealed that I was Spacystro, it would be an irreparable disaster.
“That might not be a good idea. They might not like it if we tried to remove their helmets.”
Relieved by Green’s words and somewhat comforted by SuA’s “just a comment,” I relaxed slightly. But momentarily, Yura approached me with a stern look.
“What are you doing? Can’t you express yourself physically?”
Desperately, I shook my head, indicating I was doing nothing. Usually, I deserved such looks, but after getting used to their kindness, I couldn’t adapt.
When I shook my head in response to Yura’s question, I sensed someone approaching from afar. HunterKiller members also noticed the presence and turned their attention inward. Realizing it was a training scenario, I confirmed the simulated opponents were moving up the mountain from the forest.
While I needed to report this, I couldn’t speak, and HunterKiller members’ eyes turned back to me.
“What was that? You said you weren’t doing anything? What is Spacystro doing here?”
Yubin asked with a sharp voice, but realizing I couldn’t answer, she gave up.
“What should we do?”
“We can’t fight even if something unusual is happening.”
Hyeong provided a fundamental answer. According to Hyeong, battles outside scheduled times were impossible. Although simple, this rule was strict, and all global matches occurred strictly on schedule.
“Still, we can’t ignore it.”
Yubin’s skepticism was reasonable. It was odd for a group of Spacystro to be present during a trip. Although we played sports together, free time ended yesterday, and today was back to the usual relationship between Spacystro and HunterKiller.
Therefore, seeing Spacystro soldiers in suits on the mountain trail was natural. If I could speak, I would explain and send them away, but revealing identities was prohibited unless necessary, such as controlling civilians during matches.
The biggest problem was facing HunterKiller. As an individual Spacystro soldier, I could send them away, but as A, it was impossible. Confirming identities through suits and helmet voices was difficult, yet leaving no room for doubt was essential.
Even if my identity was exposed, I wanted to reveal it myself someday. Only then could I prepare for the consequences.
Naturally, things don’t always go as planned. Unexpected situations could expose my identity, but now, I only needed to avoid making the situation worse.
My task was to persuade them to leave and report the simulated opponents’ movements to my teammates.
Suddenly, “show it with your body” began.
“What?”
I desperately gestured to show I was the referee from yesterday.
“What? Today? Now?”
Placing my hand in position to indicate my current location, Yubin started guessing.
I waved my arm to show it was different from now, not today but yesterday.
“Next? Before?”
“Isn’t it yesterday?”
Green added from beside, and I pointed at her to confirm it was yesterday. Then, I made a referee gesture with my shirt, and Yura guessed correctly.
“Yesterday’s referee?”
Happy that my intention was conveyed, I made a large circle with my arm.
“How do you confirm it’s yesterday’s referee?”
Since all Spacystro wear the same suits, confirming individuals was impossible. Despite SuA’s statement, there was no way to prove I was the referee from yesterday, but Yura shook her head.
“I think it’s right. His build is similar to my boyfriend’s, so I checked him yesterday.”
“!!!”
Her words froze me. Naturally, he would have a similar build, but my build wasn’t unique, so why did she notice me?
“You were watching me?”
“Yeah. I liked his shirt, so I thought about buying him a similar one.”
Relieved that she didn’t scrutinize deeply, I started expressing again.
I showed I played hard yesterday, and the members guessed correctly. Today, I needed to express that Spacystro had an organization event, which was challenging.
“Today, you guys are…?”
“What are you doing?”
Fortunately, some members guessed correctly that they were doing something. I mimicked running, crawling, and fighting, then indicated scoring with a gesture.
“Moving and fighting?”
“With your body, a test?”
“Scoring?”
Hyeong drew a large circle with her arm, confirming it was scoring.
“Seems like we’re observing some kind of evaluation.”
“Similar to our performance statistics?”
HunterKiller members, who initially wanted to verify only what was happening, nodded in agreement after confirming Spacystro had an organizational event here.
“So it seems.”
Though they still doubted, they couldn’t do much, so they distanced themselves slightly and prepared to leave.
“Still, it’s hard to distinguish. Even though we compete every time.”
“Yeah, I can tell a few apart.”
“How?”
“Just sometimes, the movements of some people are similar. Probably one of the people we face regularly.”
Yubin’s sharp analysis sank my heart again. Even with identical suits and helmets, recognizing distinct movements over time was possible. She immediately recognized me as a regular opponent from my gestures earlier.
The concern was that her analysis might extend to me normally, so I needed to be cautious for a while.
“Let’s go. We can’t interfere, and it’s our vacation anyway.”
Part of wanting HunterKiller members to leave quickly was hoping they enjoyed their vacation. Despite the twice-yearly training, it was routine and felt more like a capability assessment, so there was no reason for them to be wary.
Though understandable due to perspective differences, it bothered me to waste precious vacation time on trivial matters.
“Okay.”
With Yubin’s reply, HunterKiller members left, looking at me but heading toward their destination. Uncertain why they came this way, I felt relieved as they moved far enough that my voice wouldn’t reach them.
As soon as HunterKiller members disappeared, I activated my helmet radio and reported the simulated opponents’ movement paths I had observed moments ago to my teammates.
After reporting, my teammates informed us of defeating the opponents and exchanging numerous reports from other teams. The training proceeded smoothly.
The first thought after the storm subsided wasn’t relief that the training was over.
“This kind of situation will continue, right?”
This encounter rekindled thoughts about my relationship with HunterKiller members, and unease about the future grew.
