I’ll be the Red Ranger
Chapter 120 – The First Mission

- Oliver -

Oliver was ascending in one of the elevators of the research building alongside Wiz. But deep in his mind, he was still reeling from what he had witnessed in the lab—the lengths to which the Blue Rangers were willing to go to secure victory for humanity. Having narrowly escaped death multiple times at the hands of the Orks, he felt nothing but seething hatred toward them.

Yet, after his own harrowing experience of being tortured, he found himself able to put himself in the Orks' position. Deep down, he recognized that there were rules—lines that should not be crossed even in war.

In the corner of his vision, a notification persisted—a blinking reminder that he could click to claim his reward:

| Maze Master

| Complete the maze in under 1 minute

| [Click to Redeem]

However, between the numerous meetings and training sessions, Oliver hadn't found the time to be alone and redeem it.

‘None of my other achievements required my action to be collected. They were automatic. If this one is waiting for me to click, it must have some interaction or result. I'd better be prepared—it could be something akin to an evolution,’ Oliver pondered.

"This will be the first mission that I'll be sending you on," Wiz explained, his gaze fixed ahead. "You'll have two weeks to prepare until then. Keep training as you have been, especially to ensure control over your power with the armor."

"Already? Doesn't it usually take more time before receiving a mission?" Oliver asked, turning to look at the General.

"Usually, yes," Wiz admitted, glancing at him. "But you're far from ordinary. Other Rangers would take much longer to master their armor. You managed to do it on the first try, and soon enough, you'll have full command over it." He paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, you've demonstrated a skill that I wasn't aware of until now—one that will be needed for this mission."

"What would that be?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Your knowledge of Orkish and, well, a bit of empathy for them," Wiz replied.

"Empathy?" Oliver frowned the very idea causing a knot in his stomach. The thought that he could feel anything but animosity toward the Orks seemed impossible.

"Yes," Wiz affirmed. "One of the greatest mistakes someone can make during a war is blind hatred—being so consumed by it that you're unable to put yourself in your opponent's shoes." He looked directly at Oliver. "It blinds you to the moves they might make. Trust me, I've seen many officers fall in the field because they believed the Orks were nothing more than irrational monsters."

Oliver was silent for a moment, contemplating the General's words.

When the elevator doors slid open, Oliver found himself on a new floor. Unlike the previous levels, which were brimming with laboratories, this corridor was lined with classrooms and, more prominently, small meeting rooms with glass-paneled walls.

Wiz strode confidently toward the nearest meeting room. Oliver followed closely behind, his senses sharpening with anticipation. He was beginning to grow accustomed to these sudden briefings. As they entered the room, Wiz took his seat at the head of the table.

Oliver walked over and stood a few paces to the General's left, maintaining a respectful posture as they awaited the others.

"You can sit down," the General said, his tone softer than usual. "This time, you won't be just observing."

"Yes, sir." Oliver nodded and sat beside Wiz, feeling curious and apprehensive.

It didn't take long for others to arrive. The first to enter was a young man who appeared slightly older than Oliver—perhaps in his early twenties, Oliver guessed.

Like the other Rangers, he wore the official uniform of the New Earth Army (NEA). Still, his attire was augmented by a partially activated Ranger armor that was anything but standard. Instead of the typical armored plates, his suit appeared to be made from synthetic fabric that shimmered subtly under the room's lights. Rather than a helmet, he wore a hood that partially obscured his face, shadows playing across his sharp features. Dark hair spilled out from beneath the hood, framing eyes that glinted with mischief.

Beneath the hood, a sly, confident smile curved his lips. His hands were casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored pants, exuding an air of effortless assurance.

The only components that resembled traditional armor were the shoulder pads—two sleek pauldrons that gleamed with a blend of elegance and latent power. Emblazoned on his chest was a metallic crest depicting a skull with wings—a symbol that seemed at once rebellious and ominous.

The Ranger's gaze swept over the room before settling on Wiz. "So, am I finally heading back into the field, old man?" he quipped.

"Perhaps," Wiz replied evenly, giving the young man a measured look from head to toe. "I'm still evaluating."

As Wiz spoke, the Ranger sauntered over and dropped into a chair directly across from Oliver, lounging with casual nonchalance. He glanced at Oliver, appraising him with a keen eye. "So, this is the new little monster of the Blue Rangers?"

"Monster? Maybe," Wiz said thoughtfully, casting a sidelong glance at Oliver. "He'll be accompanying you on the mission."

Turning to Oliver, Wiz continued, "This is Elliot Harper. He's a fully certified Blue Ranger and retains his rank as an officer in the NEA. He's a linguist specializing in Orkish—his expertise lies in their written language and cryptography."

Elliot made an exaggerated gesture with his hands, as if taking a bow on stage. "Always a pleasure to meet a fellow prodigy," he said with a playful smirk.

Before Wiz could introduce Oliver, the door to the meeting room swung open once more.

A young woman strode in with a firm, determined gait, her eyes fixed on some invisible point ahead as if she were about to challenge the very air itself. Her expression was that of someone who had long since surpassed mere irritation—now, only cold fury resided in her gaze. Her dark, wavy hair, slightly disheveled, seemed as rebellious as she was.

She halted in the center of the room, hands clenched at her sides. Her piercing stare swept over the occupants like an unyielding scanner, uncovering faces and secrets they didn't even realize they were revealing. Her gaze locked directly onto Wiz.

"I am not going!" she declared loudly, her voice cutting through the air. "I've already told you I'm not going on any mission. There's no point in trying to send me again. My research is already behind schedule, General."

Wiz, still looking at Oliver, remarked wryly, "Researchers are always the hardest to send on missions."

"Sit down, Emma," Wiz commanded, his tone firm yet measured. "Let me explain the mission, and afterward, you can reconsider whether you wish to partake."

Emma huffed but complied, dropping heavily into a seat beside Elliot. Elliot flashed a mocking grin at her, only to receive a swift punch to his arm. He winced theatrically, rubbing the spot while trying to suppress a chuckle.

Turning back to the rest, Wiz continued, "Emma Caldwell is also a fully certified Ranger and serves the NEA as a researcher in Geography, specifically focusing on Ork Sociology."

Emma crossed her arms, a scowl still etched on her face. Oliver noted the intensity in her eyes—a mix of frustration and undeniable passion.

"Finally," Wiz glanced at Oliver, "this is Oliver, one of our newest Rangers. Despite his short time with us, he has already been able to use his Ranger Armor."

Elliot let out a low whistle of approval, leaning back in his chair with an impressed look. "Well done."

"However," Wiz added, "he will be joining you for another reason. He's one of the few who have survived prolonged close contact with the Orks and possesses a basic understanding of their spoken language."

At this revelation, both Elliot and Emma straightened in their seats, their curiosity evidently piqued.

"Before you start with questions," Wiz interjected, raising a hand to preempt any interruptions, "allow me to explain the mission."

He tapped a control on the table's console. From the center, a holographic projection materialized—a detailed three-dimensional map of rugged terrain marked with strategic points and notation.

"We've received coordinates on Olympus," Wiz began, nodding toward the floating map. "Theoretically, it's supposed to be a small Ork depot. Based on its location and preliminary drone intelligence, it appears to be an abandoned base. However, from the imagery, it seems it once served as a logistical support hub."

The hologram shifted, displaying aerial images—structures half-buried in the landscape, possible entry points, and areas of interest.

"You will be teaming up with Red and Yellow Rangers," Wiz continued. "Your objective is to advance south of the Half Wall and infiltrate this territory. We need you to gather information crucial for our ongoing research and to deepen our understanding of Ork movements."

Wiz paused, his gaze sweeping over each of them. "Based on recent enemy activity, this should be a straightforward mission. However, it's vital for the studies we're conducting."

“Any questions?"

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