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The commander sitting in the middle opened his mouth.

“Why don’t we assign that guy the task of tracking down the perpetrators?”

It was tempting to ask him why he was assigning that to me, considering his rank was much higher than mine.

The Information Chief sitting across from me responded.

“Tracking missions rank high in difficulty, just after establishing information networks. Can we really entrust that to a Major? There are other operatives in the Magic Tower who have more experience.”

He suggested handing it over to a seasoned operative with some weight behind him. Yeah. Even I thought I wasn’t fit for a complex and dangerous task like that. If it were about taking someone’s head off, maybe.

However, the commander shook his head.

“Right now, all the officers assigned to the Magic Tower are engaged in covert operations for the Grand Empire. We’re in a situation where many tasks are allocated to significantly fewer personnel than needed. It’s saturated.”

“Surely there must be at least one operative with some free time?”

“With the loss of our information network within the Empire, the workload for the Magic Tower’s covert operations has doubled. We’re currently taking on the tasks of the officers who used to do direct infiltration.”

“Wow.”

In other words, there weren’t enough people to handle it.

The commander next to him clicked his tongue lightly, pouting.

“I keep saying we need to recruit more newcomers.”

“When will newcomers become elite? Five years? Ten years? At this rate, raising a chick to fry and eat would be quicker.”

“Is it impossible to pull up personnel from other branches?”

“Not an option. The very environments are different, so an adjustment period is needed. Even if they adapt to the locale, there’s still doubt about whether they can perform effectively.”

A heated debate went on among the commanders for quite a while.

“His experience is too short for such an important mission,” “There’s no one else available, we have to give it to him,” “Then pull in surplus personnel from other branches,” “The localization training takes too long,” “Then entrust it to an official Information Officer,” “That’s impossible; they’re also under-staffed,” and so on.

A fierce argument unfolded around the table as numerous commanders presented their points backed by knowledge and experience.

And the one who initiated this ruckus, Clevenz, simply smiled and kept quiet while the atmosphere of the meeting soared.

“Alright, let’s calm down.”

The Director, with a noticeably gentler voice, intervened.

“I’ve listened well to the discussion. This proposal seems to have many practical issues, so let’s delve deeper into it at the next operational meeting.”

“Understood.”

“However, it seems we can’t omit hearing from the person involved. Colonel Frederick?”

Why are you suddenly looking for me?

Unable to hide my anxiousness, I shuffled nervously while the Director chuckled warmly at me.

“Can you provide a brief debriefing now?”

So, I had to present my findings.

—

Episode 4 – Why Is It Just Me?

After several hours, the meeting finally concluded, and I stepped out of the conference room.

Looking out the window, I noticed the once blue sky had long since turned pink. I had entered during lunchtime and came out just in time for dinner.

“Good job!”

“Hey, you’ve done well too. Nice work out there.”

“I really appreciated your presentation. You did well despite the time crunch?”

“Thank you….”

Commanders patted me on the shoulder as they passed by.

I had just finished the debriefing, which started at the Director’s orders, to report on the results of my ‘operation.’

Typically, debriefings are conducted right after a mission concludes and the report is finalized, but since I had been away on a week-long trip, I could only do it now.

Well, to be honest, I had already debriefed quite some time ago. Right after I returned a week ago, I briefed Clevenz.

I wasn’t sure if it was the right approach, but due to hurriedly taking on the tasks as an operative, I had reported to the person who was originally my superior.

In any case, the debriefing itself had been fairly successful.

Those attending today’s meeting, including the Director, had already reviewed my report numerous times, so it sufficed to summarize and hold a Q&A instead. Of course, that Q&A was by no means easy.

“Why was your team detected by the Inquisition during the initial mission execution?”

“I believe it was due to the approach of the Imperial Guard Deputy Director during the Imperial Embassy’s banquet. Did the officer in charge feel the cover identity was successful or a failure?”

“Why didn’t you change the schedule despite receiving intel about a second attack?”

“There have been records of numerous communications between you and the Special Activities Department operatives during the mission execution. Even having used secure communication methods, given the level of monitoring by other information agencies, this was a rather risky action. What were you thinking?”

“If your identity and that of your team members were discovered and you were detained, did you devise any emergency plans? Please detail your response.”

The commanders were pressing me with questions as if they were going to tear my flesh from my bones. Handling assaults from dozens of colonels was quite a daunting task. If words held weight, I might have been rendered to pieces on the conference room floor.

However, I managed to rack my brain and respond to the questions, managing to defend myself with reasonably satisfactory answers.

Watching me, the Director commented with the customary evaluation that I’d likely become a section chief in no time if I continued, commanding me to incorporate the directives issued during the meeting into future improvements in my plans.

“…….”

Sure.

To be frank, I felt blindsided.

—

The Military Intelligence Agency adopts a mission-specific officer system.

This means all officers affiliated with the Military Intelligence Agency execute just one operation.

Operatives handle a single operation, investigators handle a spy case, and information officers focus on one specific intelligence collection.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that it operates like a rigid mathematical equation. When the scale grows, resources are replenished, and multiple missions can be conducted simultaneously. This is especially true for experienced officers.

The problem was that I was now responsible for such a task.

Yeah.

In layman’s terms, I was blindsided.

Upon further reflection, there was only one person who triggered this entire incident.

“Why does your expression look like that? Did you get hit somewhere?”

The very person who initiated it asked me.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Not a chance! In the meeting room, it looked like you were hit with a barrage.”

This was a park located near the Information Agency.

After the meeting, I followed Clevenz who suggested taking a short walk while passing through the front gate, dragging my feet behind him.

Though it’s called a park, it was essentially a space exclusively for the employees of the Military Intelligence Agency. The Ministry of Finance and the City Council had been demanding that, thanks to the high land prices, it shouldn’t be used solely for their benefit but opened to the citizens, yet the cryptic authority of the information agency silenced those objections effortlessly.

And the place was more a space for brief restful moments in a busy everyday life than a resting area; it functioned more as a venue for information agency agents to engage in discreet dialogues. So, when employees said, “Let’s head to the park,” it didn’t imply a casual break but rather that there was something to discuss.

In other words, Clevenz had something to tell me.

As expected, after walking with his hands behind his back, Clevenz began to speak.

“How was the meeting? Manageable?”

“Yes. It was alright.”

“Relief to hear that.”

He guided me down a path.

The pebble-strewn path had a certain charm to it, and the rustling breeze fanned my face, courtesy of the trees that were now taking on a fiery red hue.

Clevenz walked silently along the path while I trailed behind at an easy pace.

“…….”

The only sound filling the silence was the crunching of pebbles beneath our feet until, all of a sudden, I began to hear the trickling of water from somewhere.

Looking around, I noticed a small creek flowing gently. The tumbling water swirling around the stones created a sound loud enough to drown out a faint voice if one were to speak too softly.

At that moment, Clevenz, who was ahead, slowed his pace and began to speak.

“Well, I didn’t call you back just to give you more work during your vacation, but I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m alright.”

Clevenz offered me a pleasant smile, having just delivered an unexpected apology.

There was really no need for a superior to feel sorry for giving orders to a subordinate.

A soldier was someone who followed orders. Bringing someone back from vacation was indeed not a pleasant thing to do, but.

Regardless, I was a soldier, and it wasn’t particularly wrong for either Clevenz or the Director to assign me tasks. Unless they were asking me to do something outrageous, it’s normal to expect compliance from me when they assign me tasks.

So, I brushed it off casually. It was merely an increase in workload; my vacation hadn’t been cut short immediately. Besides, preparing the project proposal wasn’t something that took an inordinate amount of time.

However, there was just one thing I couldn’t brush aside from my mind.

“Uh, Colonel.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“About what you mentioned earlier.”

The thing Clevenz had said; suggesting that it would be good for me to attend the meeting.

That had been echoing in my thoughts since the meeting.

“What’s the intent behind that?”

“Is it really that important to you? It was just something I said offhand.”

“Yes, well.”

Clevenz smiled amiably and deflected the inquiry, yet I felt an overwhelming curiosity about his intentions behind those words.

It wasn’t the most pressing question, yet it was the one that intrigued me the most at this moment. If this was job-related paranoia, then call it a part of the job. Or perhaps I was just slightly paranoid.

My colleagues from the officer corps constantly teased me about my way of thinking, yet to be honest, that mindset had saved my life more than once, and I had no choice but to cling to it. Habits are not easily changed.

After a brief silence, Clevenz seemed lost in thought, then began to speak sporadically.

“I suppose it’s not particularly advantageous for you to hear this, but well, let’s summarize it as having two main reasons.”

Two main reasons.

I wracked my brain for potential answers but nothing came to mind, so I asked him directly.

“What are they?”

“One was an opportunity to build connections, and the other was a chance to build achievements.”

“…Opportunities, you say?”

“Exactly. Opportunities.”

As Clevenz walked slowly along the path, he continued his explanation.

“You probably didn’t know, but your standing within the agency isn’t as solid as you think.”

“…….”

There weren’t any detailed explanations, yet I instinctively understood. What he was implying was not about political ties or complex standings, but about my official capacity—specifically, my standing as an operative.

Clevenz added in a calm tone.

“You probably knew it too, that your position was more narrow than you’d like to think.”

“…Yes, that’s true.”

It was a simple message.

While I was an agent in the Military Intelligence Agency’s overseas operations division, when I became Clevenz’s aide, I distanced myself from operational tasks.

Typically, operatives are selected after fierce competition, gaining knowledge and experience over several years in the field, so relatively, I didn’t have the qualifications to hold that title compared to those who were active.

Even if I did, I hadn’t undergone the necessary qualification training, so I wasn’t truly an operative.

Of course, it’s not that I lacked capability. It’s just that I didn’t possess the documents to objectively prove my skills in this setup.

“When you first joined as an operative, a suggestion came up from the overseas division to replace you. The reason is one you probably know well.”

“Due to lack of experience?”

“Exactly.”

I understood that. Honestly, I couldn’t disagree with their reasoning.

Every claim needs to be substantiated, and for civil servants, that substantiation is provided through paperwork. Usually, this is referred to as personnel capability profiles. It contains every evaluative metric for an individual—educational achievements, performance scores, command endorsements, physical fitness, experience, and so on. The personnel capability profile is the only document that provides an objective assessment of someone.

Having seen that, they likely judged that I wasn’t a suitable candidate due to the gap in experience.

If I felt hurt, it was something I had to come to terms with. We were civil servants.

“But why didn’t they replace me?”

“The situation was murky. Replacing you would create a need for a reputable identity, but they only had a week to do it. You know how significant the time and costs are involved in crafting a cover story.”

“…Now that you mention it, that makes sense.”

“But once you were thrown into the actual mission, it turned out alright.”

“…Excuse me?”

What did that mean? As I looked at Clevenz, he slightly tilted his head and continued.

“You did quite well, actually.”

“…Oh.”

“While the bomb went off and everyone was in disarray, you were actively gathering information. Everyone thought operations would be impossible due to the chaos, yet once you got to it, you managed well.”

Thinking back, I had been relentlessly collecting intel after that bomb had gone off, practically sleepless.

We took turns sleeping, and each morning I visited the Inquisition to read every report available. I swung by the monitoring office for intel on foreign intelligence agency movements during lunch, and in the evenings, I compiled reports put together by Pippin and Jake and sent them to the Information Agency.

I had lived like that for a month and a half.

“After that, the operatives analyzing the operations remarked, ‘No need to change the operative; he’s doing well.’ Once that recommendation went up, things started to look somewhat better.”

It seemed the analysts assessing the operations had viewed me favorably. They were people whose faces I had never even seen.

Clevenz muttered in an unremarkable tone, entirely normal compared to how he usually spoke.

“And when you successfully assassinated Cardinal Raul and the agents of the Imperial Guard? The evaluations changed completely. You’ve traveled overseas frequently, so you already know how difficult and risky covert operations can be.”

Indeed.

Covert operations carry risks akin to gambling.

With success comes great reward, but failure can lead to diplomatic severance, declining approval ratings, the loss of policy momentum, and even regime change; the aftereffects can be immense.

In effect, covert operations fall into the category of activities no one wants to touch because it’s a high-stakes gamble for the government. Just as a side note, the only other situation that rivals it is war. Not that the aftermath is easy to dodge in either scenario.

There are plenty of examples out there. Just taking the case of North Korea assassinating Kim Jong-nam in Malaysia; once they were identified as the mastermind, they faced harsh international backlash and eventually cut diplomatic ties even with their ally Malaysia. When Israel abducted a scientist who leaked their nuclear technology from the UK, they almost jeopardized their relations with England. It became such a tense situation that without American mediation, it would have likely led to a complete diplomatic rupture.

When asked whether someone would gamble their political career on such a scheme, very few decision-makers would promptly affirm.

At least that was true in a region with a simulated Cold War going on.

Yet, the fact remained that covert operations are inherently high-stakes gambles, whether here on Earth or elsewhere.

And I had successfully navigated that dangerous gamble.

Very successfully.

“While you had support from the operations officer, the responsibility was yours, and since the operation was accomplished without a hitch, discussions of replacing you ceased altogether.”

“…Is that so.”

Clevenz nodded.

Before I knew it, we had reached the creek and were faced with its swiftly flowing waters.

I had managed the most dangerous operation successfully. But no one in the Information Agency is foolish enough to be blinded by success.

“Yet that doesn’t mean everyone fully trusts you. You know that from having attended today’s meeting.”

“…Yes, I’m aware.”

The Military Intelligence Agency recognized my abilities, but that was the extent of it. Even the success of a covert operation was insufficient to earn the complete trust of the top decision-makers. In other words, it indicated how precarious my position really was.

Yet, I couldn’t help but feel, given my performance, that their assessments were a bit harsh. While pondering that, suddenly, Clevenz said to me.

“You need to make the commanders who attended today’s meeting trust you.”

To win their confidence.

“Use any means necessary. Just get on their radar.”

“…….”

“And rack up results. There can be jealousy towards those who do well, but there aren’t usually people who dislike them. Keep accumulating achievements, and before you know it, you’ll establish your place. That’s why I called you to the meeting.”

In simpler terms, I was being told to become someone irreplaceable, someone you couldn’t just swap out.

I stood by the stream, pondering over what he said.

His efforts to look out for me, the emphasis on needing to win over the commanders’ eyes, and the reason he brought me all the way out here to say that—all of it registered.

“…….”

“There are more complex circumstances involved, but let’s stop here. You don’t need to know everything. Anyway, do you understand the meaning behind my words?”

There was no need to think long on my answer.

“…Yes, I understand.”

—

Time flowed swiftly.

Each morning, I scrutinized the classified documents related to the Magic Tower delivered to my accommodation, methodically drafting operational plans. I set objectives, mapped out a fitting structure, and organized teams.

After sketching out the big picture, I managed to compile a fairly plausible proposal. Thus, I sent the documents created through nights of work to the Information Agency.

That very day, in the wee hours, I received word from my watch officer that the Director had approved my plans, and at dawn’s gentle glow, I was notified by an Inquisition agent that the Saint would soon be arriving.

Thus, dawn broke.

 

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