The sound of the whistle stopped me and the agents who were running around the field. I looked up for a moment.
A helicopter landed on the flat roof, dropping off a number of people in dark blue uniforms and cloaks. Its slowly spinning propeller reflected the dazzling light of the sun, causing me to squint.
Never before in my life have I seen such a genuine glimmer of light. I was curious if anyone else saw it that way.
"Ah… I don't think I can continue to shooting practice. Why won't they give us five minutes?"
I turned to look at the other agents' tired and irritated expressions as they were talking to each other nearby. A few of them looked indifferent—either they were used to it or they were concealing their weariness.
As I saw Debora and Fayrl were walking toward the west door of the building, I hastily approached them. They turned around when we were only a meter away.
"Oh? Brissia! Uh... no need to run. There's still a lot to do today."
Debora shook her head and smiled at me worriedly, while I only replied with a small grin.
"Let's go to the cafeteria," Fayrl said, making me frown. Apparently, so did Debora.
"But don't we have a shooting pract—"
"Skip," Fayrl cut me off. "Practice is mandatory, but so is eating. You probably haven't had breakfast too, have you, Brissia?"
I fell silent. It reminded me of a firm wake-up call that echoed in the dormitory corridor when the sun had not yet risen.
"Yeah," I replied softly.
"Right, just relax. We have Harris as our best shooter."
I looked at Fayrl with a half raised eyebrow. "Is he the coach?"
Debora snorted. "That stubborn guy? You must be kidding, Brissia."
For some reason, I had the urge to immediately contradict what she had said. When we went to Bouville, we made good compromises. He represented a proactive and caring team member.
"However, you might be his ideal shooting partner."
My brow furrowed when I heard Debora speak again with a thoughtful look.
"He prefers to practice with his close ones during the peer-to-peer training. That's all. See you two around!" Debora said before walking down a different aisle from us. Apparently, it was the hall leading to the shooting practice area.
The quiet cafeteria reminded me of when I invited Nicho and Ji to sit in the campus cafeteria. And that brought back the question of what would happen to them after I saw their illusion in Bouville.
"Are you Brissia Niverte?"
Fayrl dropped her salad fork with a dumbfounded expression as a group of agents surrounded our table. They looked older than me but younger than Drey and Davina.
"Yes," I answered them casually, although I was dead inside.
They seemed to be judging me. Even though I initially said I didn't mind people's opinions, their presence in a group made me just wish for nothing bad would happen.
It appeared that my wish was granted. They sat around us quietly and told me about Drey's request last night. I didn't expect them to immediately drag me into their dark nostalgia regarding that black-robed troop they nicknamed the 'black crows'.
"…And before you two boarded the ship, Drey witnessed Harris being hurt by one of them," said one of them in the middle of talking about their experience dealing with the black-robed troops.
"The seal that the emblem imparts on each agent's heart allows senior executives to ensure the safety of the SURVIVE agents on the ground," they continued.
"That's right! So, whenever an agent is injured by the black crows, their vision will automatically sync with the screen in the monitoring room," another added.
Their expressions were flat, as if they were chatting about trivial matters. But the fact that it was so similar to advanced technology or magic got me speechless.
"The black crows are a real nuisance. They're even more despicable than this intelligence agency."
When Fayrl said bluntly like that, none of my seniors seemed to disapprove of her. Then, one of them handed me a file.
As I scanned through it, I saw a sketch of a familiar street, annotated 'the result of an agent's vision before he died on the spot'.
"When you're certain, we'll follow you to detain the leader."
They then left me and Fayrl who hadn't even touched our food.
"Is there anyone else from the Algor District besides me and Harris?"
Fayrl took her spoon away with a cloudy look.
"The agent who has vision of the road you saw just now. He was my boyfriend."
My eyes widened as I turned quickly to her. "I apologize if I reminded you of him."
Fayrl gave me a faint smile and waved her hand as if to say I didn't need to apologize.
"It's even worse if I no longer remember or feel anything for him."
Then, her expression turned cold as she muttered, "No matter how, I'll never forget the faces of those who let him die."
After saying so, Fayrl walked in another direction. Her firm facial expression and sarcastic tone belied how fragile her back appeared.
On my second day as a SURVIVE agent, I got a lot of things.
Firstly, quite a few SURVIVE agents were unhappy, which convinced me that they forcibly recruited their agents.
Secondly, if we aren't prepared to lose our friends, it's better not to make any.
Lastly, it seemed forbidden to fall in love in SURVIVE. Why? Because when the lovers face the annual test, only heartbreak awaits them.
My eyes caught the presence of a dark brown-haired and hazel-eyed figure coming from the direction Fayrl had left. He who was wearing his full uniform was carrying a cloak at his elbow, removing his hat with the other hand.
Flashbacks of the teaching assistant's indifferent face played back in my head as my eyes locked on Harris' face. Again and again, my mind raced. However, all those thoughts collapsed as soon as our gaze met.
It felt as though we were frozen in time, with no one else present but the two of us. We could have stared for however long we wanted, but Harris's gaze seemed to be holding back a lot of information from me.
"How was your day, Harris?"
He was caught off guard by my sudden question.
"N-not bad… but why are you here? Shouldn't you attend the shooting practice?" he asked and seemed to be stroking the nape of his neck.
I got up from my seat and approached him. "I guess I should ask you the same."
My question pulled the corners of his lips into a grin.
"Oh, Brissie, I'm obviously not the same."
Instantly, he was free of his nervousness and full of confidence. He stepped closer to me, reminding me of an incident on the ship's deck.
"I can even shoot you with my eyes closed," he whispered right next to my ear.
When I could see his face in front of me again, I firmly said, "Be my coach, then."
"What?"
His eyes suddenly blinked in disbelief and his smile vanished.
"You're good at shooting, aren't you?"
Hearing it, he chuckled with a little bewilderment. While beckoning me to follow him, he told me the reason he didn't participate in shooting class—I preferred to call it 'class'.
Throughout our journey through the wide windowed hallway, I learned about the peace monument that Harris visited. About two hours from the SURVIVE property area, there was a giant stone, bearing the names of the victims of the feud between Algor District and Notus District about a decade ago.
Every quarter, SURVIVE sent a delegation to give a ceremonial tribute to the victims and fellow agents who lost their lives in the battle. Harris also mentioned that his friends were reluctant to join because they were still traumatized, but he believed this to be a ruse since they didn't really like him.
"You tend to be picky when choosing a training partner. Is that true?"
"My, my…"
Harris snorted as he approached me, straightened my right hand holding the gun in front of me.
"They seem to have told you a lot," he spoke again, moving my left hand to support the bottom of the gun and slightly bending it inward.
I tightened my grip on the gun. The gun was heavy, but Harris helped me support it. He even held my right arm straight and my left arm relaxed to support the handgun.
"Watch the trigger. If you're not ready, don't pull it or you'll fall over," he said while aiming my left foot at the target position and my right foot remained obliquely behind the right.
"So, tell me, Harris," I asked again, "do you think we're that close?"
I could hear the silence from him. But then, he chuckled and stepped aside.
"You'll find out."
My eyes widened and my forehead furrowed deeply. He was standing right in front of me, at the point where my aim should have been.
"Shoot me, Brissie."