"Shinta blinked, disoriented as he sat in the chair, its top cloth conspicuously absent. "What? What do you mean? What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice laced with confusion.
Jaimee Haylor, a promising young woman of twenty from the military's industry sector, stood before him, a delicate blush rising on her cheeks. "Well, sir... you don't have a top cloth," she stammered, her voice a mix of excitement and playful accusation. "Do you finally recognize me as a woman now?"
Shinta's mind raced. Jaimee Haylor... efficient, invaluable in handling the data of operations and supply. But lately, she's developed this... unsettling intensity that sends shivers down my spine.
"Hey! Stop rummaging through my thoughts," Jaimee snapped, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Do you even remember I'm still a minor? Is it appropriate to desire me like that?"
Shinta's face twisted in confusion. "But we only have a four-year age gap, so it's really fine," Jaimee countered, a hint of defiance in her tone. "Then why are you sitting here shirtless if you don't see me as a woman?"
"It's because my shirt was blown away by the explosion, what are you even thinking?" Shinta retorted, exasperated. "Can't you see the bruises on my body? That's why I asked you to bring me a cloth."
"Oh... is that so, sir?" Jaimee's expression softened, her fingers tracing the edge of a particularly nasty bruise on his arm. "By the way, here's the information about those bandits – their connections and allies within the government." She handed him a file. "Our soldiers are en route to take action. We're starting the interrogation process to uncover their future plans." As she spoke, she gently cleaned his bruises, her touch lingering a moment too long. "And how was the first day at your new school? Did you enjoy the company of that beautiful girl beside you?" A flicker of jealousy danced in her eyes.
Now that she's lost her loved one, what does she really feel inside? Shinta wondered, a pang of sympathy hitting him.
Jaimee's voice cut through his thoughts. "Why did you do it, sir? Why did you leave?"
Shinta sighed, explaining, "This is the only way to escape, to prevent her from searching for me and putting her in danger."
Their conversation was cut short as they headed to a press conference for the highest ranks in the military. As Shinta approached the gate, a guard stopped him, explaining that no unauthorized civilians were permitted inside the military facility.
"He's with me," Jaimee interjected, her voice firm. The guard immediately recognized her – the secretary to the most secret general. Jaimee had built her reputation before becoming his secretary; most soldiers knew her face, as she often attended press conferences on his behalf when lower-ranking officials were involved. Shinta thought.
Entering the conference room, Shinta was greeted with a sea of salutes, despite being ten minutes late. A murmur rippled through the room. "Who is that kid?" one soldier whispered to his comrade. "To be greeted like that, even after making them wait... He must be the son of a Fleet Admiral, or someone even higher up."
As Shinta took the middle chair, an astonishing aura seemed to emanate from him, palpable to everyone in the room. "Why are there ordinary soldiers here?" he asked, his voice carrying an unexpected weight of authority. Despite their captain ranks, he dismissed them as "ordinary."
One of the captains bristled, frustration simmering beneath his composed exterior. How can a brat like that call us ordinary? He's probably just hiding behind his parents' influence. But a sharp, intimidating glare from one of the officials silenced him.
The official explained that their presence was to inform them of the upcoming operation plan and to act as additional security. Jaimee handed out hard copies of the plan, and Shinta began to explain the details. Several attendees shared intelligence: the gang's leader was holding hostages in their base. The plan was immediately revised from a face-to-face capture to a stealth approach. After the discussion, everyone began to return to their stations.
The soldier who had almost spoken out earlier received a stern punishment for his near insubordination. The officials huddled together, discussing how to approach Shinta. "In public, ignore him. Do what you want, as long as it doesn't harm him," one advised. "But in a formal meeting, you must give him the highest respect you can muster." The message was relayed to the other soldiers, and a collective realization dawned upon them.
"A boy receiving a rank equal to a Fleet Admiral? Without any help, on his own? Unbelievable!" one mused. "The greatest general in history is a man not even in his twenties, and still a minor, huh?"
What can you do to make changes in this world? Shinta wondered, the weight of his responsibilities settling heavily on his young shoulders.