New Grand Battle: Love Comedy 新戦国ロブコメ
I awoke from a lucid dream. The dreams I had night to night were always rather strange, and therefore I was usually never particularly bothered by them. However, this one was different. It remained on my consciousness minutes after my eyes had opened to take in my initial daily unpleasant rays of sunlight. The content of my dream was that the whole world was at peace. Split into many nations and many peoples, but, nonetheless, at peace. Most importantly of all, they were free. This was, of course, utter nonsense. The real world in this current year of 2020 is split into 4 powers; The United States of New Anglo-land (USNA), The Japanese Empire, The Third Reich, and New Roma. All of them were at odds with one another, and none of their peoples possessed liberty. These four powers formed together after what is commonly referred to in school as the Second World War. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water. “The water might clear my head of such foolery” I thought to myself as the soothing warm water ran down my back. After getting out of the shower and brushing my teeth, I grabbed my USNA agent training uniform. I was 16 years of age, and within one year of training I would become an official undercover agent of the USNA. This would include espionage, assassinations, theft of information, and all sorts of other things that as a child I thought only existed in movies. The name-tag on my chest looked rather proud and astute. “Arnold Thompson” it read. Such a badge of recognition was greatly revered by society at large. After eating a rather mediocre food ration for breakfast, I headed out the door of my apartment into the larger world.
I lived in a city called Tri-York. Supposedly in older times it was called by a different name. Regardless of what it was called, I knew what thing about it, it was damn crowded. Swathes of humans passed one another like ants scurrying. The time was eight-hundred, and everyone would be headed to their place of work. My destination would be the OTC, or Operative Training Center. I called for a taxi and once one pulled up I hopped inside. Taxis were always one of my foremost dislikes. They have this habit of always smelling like multiple bodies had been stuffed in the trunk months before and had been rotting for ages. The road and swarms of humans went on and on for several minutes. As we came up to a red light I gazed out the window and noticed something rather odd. There was a girl there, and not only a girl, but a girl who did not look as though she was a native Angloan. Her hair was dark and long, her physique was petite, and her eyes rounded. She was absolutely stunning, and also frightening to a degree. Before I had a chance to start the ultimate rom-com, however, the taxi started out on its course again. Finally, we arrived at the OTC. “That’ll be fifteen-dollars sir,” the driver happily chirped. Taxi drivers were only thrilled when they were receiving money. I handed him his fare and walked into the tall, dark OTC building.