An Operator Lost in Another World [ONGOING]

Chapter 3: Realization

Dusk had finally settled across the horizon, prompting Mason to call for camp.

It was good timing—he used the opportunity to sync his watch with this world's time zone. After his fated encounter with Masami, they had continued westward for another five hours, yet there was still no sign of civilization. Truthfully, Mason had expected their pace to be slower with Masami accompanying him, but the little girl had surprised him by keeping up remarkably well.

Now, with the campfire crackling to life, Mason settled down and began removing the heavy gear he'd carried all day. His muscles eased as the weight lifted. At the same time, he prepared a hot meal for both of them using his MREs.

For the first time since their meeting, Masami had a chance to properly study him. Even through layers of strange clothing, it was obvious Mason was built solid—broad-shouldered, tall, and composed. His attire and weapons were unlike anything she had ever seen. Curious and a little flustered, she finally worked up the courage to speak.

"Um, Mason, where do you come from?"

Small talk, huh? Mason didn't mind. He realized he was the one carrying all the secrets between them. Walking over, he handed her a prepared MRE pack and took a seat beside her. After taking a few bites of his own, he finally decided to respond.

"Well, it's complicated... I come from a faraway land. Somehow, I got myself lost in this forest."

It was only half the truth—but better that than confusing her with reincarnation and alternate worlds.

Masami lowered her eyes. "Why are you helping me? I'm just a slave."

"Slave or not, you're still a person. Wait—what are you, exactly?"

"I'm a fox beastkin..." she murmured. Her ears drooped in shame.

Mason nodded thoughtfully. So this world had demi-humans—like werewolves, vampires, maybe more? Definitely fantasy. Maybe magic, too.

"Anyway," he said, smiling gently, "to answer your question—I just like helping people."

Masami blinked, visibly confused by the simplicity of his answer.

"There's no deeper reason," Mason added. "You were in danger. Those bastards were going to hurt you. That's all I needed to know."

She sensed there was more to it—but didn't press further. If he truly meant it, then this world could use more people like him. Still, she had so many questions.

"What do you usually do, Mason?" she asked, eyeing the strange tools and weapons beside him. "Are you some sort of adventurer?"

The word made Mason pause. Adventurer? That... wasn't too far off.

"Well, to begin with," he replied, "I'm a soldier."

That explained the aura about him. He radiated quiet intensity—brutal, cold when needed, but calm and disciplined. To Masami, it felt like two souls resided in one body: a killer and a guardian.

She wanted to ask more, but exhaustion pulled at her limbs and eyes. Her body slumped gently against Mason's shoulder.

He looked down at her sleepy face and chuckled quietly.

Adorable.

Carefully, he laid out his sleeping bag and tucked her in. She was so light—her small frame barely shifting the fabric. At six-foot-five, he could've carried her in one arm. Once settled in the bag, a quiet look of satisfaction crossed her face as the warmth enveloped her.

Given her baggy eyes and frail state, Mason guessed she hadn't slept properly in days.

He would take the night watch himself.