CHAPTER 2
The squad entered the cafeteria only to be hit by a wall of noise and warmth. The noise wasn't the kind generated by a single individual screaming—although that was happening—but from dozens of conversations occurring all at once. And don't even get started on the heat. When over four hundred men shared a confined space, the resulting body heat could invalidate even the best-intentioned air-conditioning system.
Since they'd just returned from a successful mission, they were eating good today. Not that anyone would stop them from eating well if the mission had gone south—but it just wouldn't feel the same.
The squad took a table to themselves because it was their table. Literally. Tobias had made it once it became obvious they were going to remain a unit. Anyone could use it when they were absent, but once they arrived, trespassers had to vacate. It was an unspoken rule, and since the squad didn't go around making trouble, most people didn't push their luck. Doug's presence certainly discouraged that.
They were minor celebrities on base. Not only were they one of the longest-standing recon/search-and-rescue squads, but they were also among the most successful, boasting a ninety-one percent success rate. Officially, they were known as the Princess Retrieval Unit—PRU for short. Partly because of their success rate, partly because they were usually the first team called in for high-value retrievals, and partly because of their size. Squads like theirs were typically temporary, assembled from specialists across units and disbanded after a mission.
They were simply too effective to split up.
As soon as they sat down, Tobias started digging into his meal with a voracity that left people unsettled. The reason for this deranged behavior was even worse. He ate quickly so he could watch Amanda eat—and so his mouth would be free to talk while everyone else was chewing. A genius strategy, if you asked him. The trade-off was that he couldn't talk for the first five minutes, bringing a rare moment of tranquility to the table.
"So, how was the debrief?" Amanda asked.
John looked up from his food. She could've sworn nearby conversations quieted as female soldiers within a two-mile radius suddenly started staring at him. The twitch of his eye told her he noticed—and didn't enjoy—the attention.
"It went pretty well," he said. "Minimal yelling, and my career isn't over. I'll call that a win."
"Then what's with the gloomy disposition?" Gustav interrupted. "I just got my hands on a used Pokémon Scarlet and Violet Game Boy. I can't wait to see the previous owner's progress."
John cut in immediately, a positively sadistic glint in his eyes. "Let me stop you right there. We're expected in the war room for another debrief at 1400 hours."
You could literally see the light fade from Gustav's eyes before sputtering back on.
"Two hours for sleep. Two minutes for a shower. Five minutes for food," he muttered. "That leaves me eleven hours and fifty-three minutes of gameplay. Not bad. Not bad at all."
He looked up to find everyone staring at him with open judgment.
Thinking fast, he chose self-preservation.
"So, Doug," he said quickly, "Bethany from the lunch shift last week approached you, right?"
Doug—who had been perfectly content watching Gustav commit social seppuku—froze, then reached for Gustav's neck with his massive mitts.
John intervened just in time.
"So," he said casually, "has anyone seen the latest free chapters of Shadow Slave, 2710 to 2720?"
You could hear a pin drop.
Doug went rigid. "There are chapters past 2700 and you're only telling me this now? You—"
"Before you get your panties in a bunch," John said smugly, "I just saw them. Let's just say G3 is still one of the best in the game. No cap."
For the next few minutes, John looked so unbearably smug it could be felt across the room as the rest of the squad caught up. Anyone watching could tell he lived for moments like this.
"How does G3 even do it?" Tobias asked, sounding borderline fanatical.
Gustav broke the silence. "So… any update on the Shadow Slave waifu chart?"
"Hell no," Doug snapped. "Jet all the way, bro."
"Ki Song all the way," John replied. "Nothing's changing my mind."
"Silent Stalker all the way," Amanda added.
"Beastmaster," Gustav said, daring anyone to question him.
"So, moving on," Doug continued, grinning, "hot take: Enel and Kaido were defeated by plot. Absolute units."
John looked Doug—the pathetic Kaido stan—dead in the eyes.
"Why?" he asked softly. "Why choose violence?"
Before he could say anything else, he noticed Amanda across the table place a finger to her lips and shake her head, silently warning him to back off. If he ignored that, he was fairly sure she'd chuck something at him. It wouldn't be the first time. He wisely shut up and leaned back to enjoy the show.
John couldn't explain why Amanda enjoyed watching Tobias rage, and he wasn't about to ask. He enjoyed living far too much.
"The hell do you mean by that?!" Tobias practically screamed. "Luffy won that fight fair and square!"
Doug, elite rage-baiter, replied calmly, "Yeah right. Only a Jujutsu Kaisen fan would look at the jumping of the century and call it a fair fight."
By now, the cafeteria was almost empty.
Tobias was red, shaking, and one bad word away from slugging Doug. Knowing his temper, he could—but he'd done that enough times to remember how it ended.
"Take that back," Tobias growled.
John stepped in before a Superman punch could be attempted. "You princesses have been having dinner for an hour," he said loudly. "Would you like some dessert?"
Only then did Gustav check his watch and let out a horrified screech.
Crisis averted. At least for now.
They stood, returned their cutlery like decent human beings—unlike the animals who left plates behind—and headed out. The team needed sleep before the upcoming mission.
If only they knew how much they'd need it.