Otaku Translation: Honey Badger's Streaming Life C86

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Two years ago, Team Three had been on a routine mission in the Sudanese grasslands. What should have been a boring surveillance task turned into a series of unfortunate events. First, their captain, Luke, sprained his ankle before even leaving the base and stayed behind to rest. Then, as Jacob led the team out, they ran into a swarm of driver ants. Everyone scattered, running for their lives. In the chaos, Wang Ping and Anna got separated from the group and took refuge in a muddy puddle, narrowly escaping the ants’ relentless march. But Anna wasn’t unscathed—her hands were swollen like steamed buns by the time they emerged.

Hours later, after the ant swarm had moved on, Wang Ping used Anna’s tablet to check their route. When prompted to unlock the device, Anna told him her password without hesitation, joking that she had a terrible memory and used the same one for everything.

Recalling this moment now, Wang Ping felt his mood sink once more.

He glanced at the battery icon in the bottom corner of the screen—the laptop was fully charged. He unplugged the charger, picked up the laptop, and headed into the bathroom. Setting the device on the floor, he darted back to his room to grab a box of cigarettes and a lighter. The box was so large it nearly covered his face.

Soon, flickers of flame lit up the small bathroom. There sat a certain badger, cigarette dangling from his mouth, tapping away at the login screen with his claws. He entered Anna’s ID and password.

The page buffered briefly before redirecting to a grid-list interface. The mission briefing section was completely blank, indicating that Team Three wasn’t currently on any assignment. Under the personnel status tab, it simply read, “On standby.”

Wang Ping moved the cursor down to find the internal email link. While only the captain could view all team members’ information, there were loopholes. Internal notifications were sent via the intranet email system, and the secretary responsible for forwarding messages was notoriously careless. Sometimes, forwarded emails included the names of other recipients.

In Anna’s inbox, the most recent forwarded message announced the date and location of Jacob’s funeral. Wang Ping scanned the list of recipients, which included members from five teams. To his shock, neither Jacob’s name nor his own appeared. Instead, two unfamiliar names were listed: Park Yoo-hee and Sama.

Wait… am I dead too?

Wang Ping froze in place.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the globe, the last rays of sunset disappeared below the horizon. Fields and forests grew quiet, while cities buzzed with life.

In London, England, along Gray’s Inn Road east of the Charles Dickens Museum, stood an “R”-shaped gray office building. A circular garden and fountain adorned the small plaza in front. This was the headquarters of the World Animal Protection (WAP).

On the third floor, in the western wing, a segregated area marked with a red cross sign indicated the organization’s private hospital. It was here, in one dimly lit room, that a pale-faced Asian man lay motionless on a bed. Beside him, a mixed-race girl with long golden hair stared absently out the window at the city lights twinkling to life.

If Wang Ping had been present, he would have immediately recognized the girl by the window—Anna, the person who often crossed his mind. And the lifeless figure on the bed? That was his own body.

The door creaked open quietly, and a middle-aged white man with short chestnut hair and light stubble entered, holding a paper bag. He glanced at the unmoving figure on the bed, then at the dazed Anna by the window. Lifting his arm, he flipped the light switch near the door and cleared his throat softly.

The fluorescent tubes hummed to life, casting a harsh glow over the room. The girl, startled, spun around to look at the bed. Seeing no change in Wang Ping’s condition, she turned toward the door, her expression shifting rapidly from hope to disappointment.

“Sorry…” Luke spread his arms slightly, lifting the bag in his hand. “I brought some food, if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” Anna replied, shaking her head. She sat down beside the bed and resumed staring blankly at the pale face of the man lying there.

“Alright, I’ll leave it here,” Luke said, pursing his lips. He placed the bag on a table near the door, then walked to the other side of the bed, gazing down at Wang Ping.

“Maybe we should send him home…”

Before Luke could finish, Anna interrupted sharply, “I can take care of him!”

“Anna…” Luke frowned, looking at the gaunt girl before him. His mouth opened as if to say more, but he hesitated and fell silent.

This conversation—or rather, argument—had occurred several times over the past few days, always ending in frustration. With Jacob gone, Luke didn’t want to risk alienating another member of his team.

Though the doctors’ prognosis remained vague, everyone understood the reality: the body lying in that bed wasn’t technically dead, but the chances of waking up were slim. Most likely, he’d remain in a vegetative state indefinitely.

“Forget it, let’s wait a little longer,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. As he reached the doorway, he paused and turned back. “Take care of yourself, Anna. Don’t collapse too. I don’t want to go through picking new recruits again.”

There was no response from the room. With a sigh, Luke left, leaving Anna alone with her thoughts. A single tear slipped silently from her eye, landing on Wang Ping’s hand.

---

“Hiss…”

In the bathroom, a certain badger flinched as the burning cigarette tip scorched his paw. He quickly flicked it into the toilet and blew on the tender spot. The air reeked not only of smoke but also of singed fur.

Glancing inside the cigarette box, he realized the one he’d just discarded was the last. With a resigned shrug, he tossed the empty box into the trash.

Unbeknownst to him, he spent the entire night sprawled across the cold bathroom tiles. After filling the toilet with countless cigarette butts, he finally remembered, just before dawn, that he still had unfinished business.

Flushing the toilet and hiding the laptop under the bed, Wang Ping hurriedly left the room to replace the ceiling panel he’d moved during the night.

Whether from staying up all night or chain-smoking, Wang Ping felt physically drained, his head heavy and foggy. Descending the stairs from the third floor, he stumbled and fell, his chin slamming painfully against the edge of a step.

Dazed, he returned to his room, opened the window to air out the lingering smoke, and collapsed onto the bed. His mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions.

Jacob’s death hit him harder than he’d expected—but what weighed on him even more was something else entirely.

At least Jacob, that bearded Dutch veterinarian, had received a proper obituary. People mourned him, remembered him. But what about Wang Ping?

Before, he’d convinced himself that his sacrifice had protected his teammates. But learning about Jacob’s selfless act made Wang Ping question the meaning of his own demise. If Jacob’s death was noble, then what did that make his?

To make matters worse, his current situation was unclear. Was he truly dead, or merely forgotten? If he was dead, why hadn’t anyone announced it? Yet if he wasn’t, why had two new members replaced him in Team Three?

For a fleeting moment, Wang Ping felt as though his entire existence had been erased, invalidated by fate itself.

This realization shattered the sense of heroic closure he’d clung to, leaving him utterly devoid of purpose.

Though he knew it was disrespectful to the deceased, Wang Ping couldn’t help but think: Jacob shouldn’t have died. It should have been him instead. That insufferable, bearded vet had even managed to steal the spotlight in death!

Damn bastard!

Suddenly overcome with anger, Wang Ping wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs.

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