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I received a rather perplexing request from the British who had taken over the room. No, scratch that—this was practically extortion.

“Tell me!”

“No way. Why the heck should I tell you that? I have no idea.”

“You’re lying!”

“…Honestly.”

No matter how hard I tried to fabricate a believable lie, it seemed that Camila clung to me even more tenaciously when I pushed her away.

Camila was being either a spoiled brat or annoyingly obsessed—hard to tell at her age. She was a peculiar woman asking for strange things.

Eventually, I found myself genuinely regretting my choices while staring at half-dragged Camila holding onto my clothes.

“…Fine, fine! Just please sit down already!”

I shouldn’t have gotten involved with the Information Agency.

—

Episode 7 – Daily Life

—

Only after a storm had passed did peace finally return. A fleeting peace, indeed.

Camila, who had once been throwing a tantrum, seemed to calm down and was now sitting quietly, looking at me, while I endured her piercing gaze in silence.

What to do…

“…….”

I needed to organize my thoughts. Slowly, I racked my tired brain, wondering how on earth things had come to this.

First off, Camila knew who I was. More precisely, she knew who “I” was—not Colonel Frederick Nostrim. She knew where I came from, what I did, and so on.

Of course, Camila didn’t know everything about me, nor did I have any intention of explaining it all in detail, but the crux of the matter was that she knew my true identity.

However, the problem didn’t end there.

It seemed Camila had partially figured out my current status. In other words, she recognized that I wasn’t a Resident Officer suddenly picked by the Oracle to be the face of the operation, but rather an Information Officer belonging to the military’s Information Agency.

This was entirely my fault. Camila was sharp enough to suspect things, and I didn’t foresee that at all. If I had only been more careful, it wouldn’t have come to this.

But worrying about that now was pointless. There’s no such thing as ‘what if’ in this world.

The important thing was that Camila had caught on to my status.

And now she was making unreasonable demands of me.

“…What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tradecraft. Oh, is that not the right term?”

“…….”

What she was asking for was to learn the skills and techniques that Information Agents use in the field.

“Why on earth would you want to know that?”

“Um, I developed a romanticized notion about it after watching 007…?”

“…….”

“Just kidding! Actually, I’m really interested in the Information Agency. If anything, you could say it’s more out of curiosity.”

That was an astonishingly honest answer.

At that point, I decided to stop lying. So I confessed honestly.

“No way.”

“Why not?”

Reasons? Oh, I had plenty.

“Do you even realize it takes at least a year to learn that stuff?”

Time was the first issue.

“Basically, when you join the Information Agency, you spend six months to a year just on theoretical training and exercises. Domestic intelligence, foreign intelligence, analysis, counterintelligence, counter-terrorism, security, psychology, forensic science. Shooting skills, parachuting, survival techniques, and specialized training. We teach all that.”

The Information Agency provides virtually everything new agents need to know to function in the field. They don’t know which department a fresh recruit will fit into, after all.

Thus, the Agency aims to cover as much as possible in training. That takes at least a full year. I mean, it takes that long just to cover the basics.

And during that period, it’s not just training and drills; there are tests as well—written and practical.

To put it bluntly, I had no confidence in teaching Camila any of that. Not only because I had never been an instructor, but even if I had the ability, I wouldn’t have done it.

“How can you expect me to teach you all of that when it’s going to take you a year? Be realistic.”

Camila blinked her bright eyes.

“I already know about the theories, you know?”

“What theories?”

“In the UK, there’s a university course called National Intelligence Studies. I took that course, and terrorism is even a main subject, while I’m minoring in psychology.”

“That’s a problem.”

The problem was the terminology.

“Because you studied it at university, you know what National Intelligence Studies is, right?”

“Yes.”

National Intelligence Studies is, quite literally, the study of national intelligence.

It involves researching the intelligence activities of national intelligence agencies—information collection, analysis, covert operations, counterintelligence—along with terrorism, cyber warfare, international organized crime, and various intelligence agencies from different countries.

It’s a fairly obscure subject in South Korea but not surprising at all for someone like Camila, attending Cambridge, where the field originated.

However,

“The terminology is different.”

There are no universally accepted terms or guidelines in the field of National Intelligence Studies.

National Intelligence Studies runs contrary to the usual social sciences and natural sciences.

“I don’t know the terms used in the UK, and you don’t know the terms used in Korea. How the heck am I supposed to teach you when the terminology itself is different?!”

I had a ton of other reasons, but if I were to sum it all up in one line, the conclusion would be this.

I couldn’t teach Camila.

Realistically, that was impossible.

“I’d like to teach you, but there just isn’t a way.”

“…….”

I sighed lightly as I wrapped up my explanation. Dragging my weary body through yet another complicated explanation made my head hurt like crazy.

Honestly, at this point, I secretly hoped she would just give up and go away. Surely being sharp, she’d understand and back off.

But surprisingly, without batting an eye, Camila said, “Then can you teach me at least the physical skills?”

“Uh, no.”

—

To be honest, I started to worry that I might have been too harsh in turning down Camila’s request.

After all, I had found myself dropped into a strange world, going on adventures I had never asked for. Camila was basically in a kind of kidnapping situation.

No matter how sharp or curious she was, falling into another world meant that Camila was bound to feel change in her emotions.

But having been scolded by someone from her homeland after months, I couldn’t help but worry that I might have upset her.

Not so!

“Good morning!”

“Uh… um… yeah. You’re as lively as ever today.”

The next day at breakfast, Camila greeted me just like any other day.

“So, are you still not planning to tell me?”

“I told you I can’t.”

Camila continued to make unreasonable requests, just like before. The day after that, the day after that, too.

She had gone from only talking to me after work to seeking me out in the mornings before heading off to work.

Even—

“Director, I hate to impose, but our Ministry of Foreign Affairs firmly maintains that there is no legal basis for Abas to cover the expenses incurred from the Saint’s medical activities. It would be much more beneficial to contact the local cult’s consulate for a resolution…”

“Um, Manager?”

“Just a moment… Uh, what is it, Pippin? A call from HQ?”

“No, it’s not that. I got a call from Security. The Hero is waiting for you downstairs.”

“…….”

Camila had come all the way to the embassy where I worked.

In principle, only those with a legitimate purpose and thorough background check are allowed into diplomatic missions. Security is crucial for such facilities. However, Camila had practically no means to prove her identity (as the UK doesn’t exist here) and didn’t have any clear purpose, so technically she shouldn’t have been allowed in.

“Wow, is this where you work?”

“…Uh, yes. It is.”

“It’s spacious.”

Who had the nerve to stop her?

No one could stop her, whether it was the head of the Defense Attaché Office or someone else. Thanks to that, Camila could roam the Defense Attaché Office like an archaeologist searching for relics, while I was left trembling from the glances of information officers urging me to get her out of there.

Morning, lunch, dinner.

All day long, Camila came to find me and subtly pressured me. It was practically borderline harassment. She was just missing a knife; otherwise, it was nothing short of robbery.

However, I couldn’t just vent my feelings to anyone at random. With my shattered relationships, I didn’t even have someone to confide in. My family wasn’t on good terms to begin with, so who would I consult about my worries?

“……”

Ultimately, I had no choice but to seek out an information agent.

*

The world is vast, and there are plenty of oddballs. If you were to ask what qualifies someone as an oddball, I wouldn’t be able to give a straightforward answer, but it’s something everyone can agree on: there are many oddballs out there.

And right in front of me was one of them.

“Why’re you suddenly starting something?”

“Just understand that I think of the Saint as a close acquaintance.”

“Really, your mouth just won’t stop… tsk…!”

Veronica muttered with a click of her tongue, grumbling as she lounged, puffing away on her cigarette.

“So, what’s the deal? You came knocking on my door out of nowhere.”

“That’s right.”

I, too, wasn’t sure *why* I had come to see Veronica.

I genuinely didn’t know.

Pippin, Jake, Clevenz, Leoni, Sophia, Dmitri, and also Older Sister Adela and Older Brother Jerry.

They all knew my identity. Yet here I was, bypassing all the people I could trust. Why did I end up seeking out Veronica?

Perhaps, unconsciously, I viewed her as the easiest person to talk to, even knowing full well it shouldn’t be like that with an information agent.

“…That’s how it turned out.”

I explained everything that had happened to Veronica thus far. Of course, I left out the details about Camila’s background and the specifics of her request.

After mixing fact with a bit of fiction, Veronica’s impression was simple.

“Ah, so that’s why you two have been sticking together lately?”

Veronica reclined halfway on the sofa, smoking her cigarette with a smirk.

“Sticking together? It’s Camila who’s following me.”

“I thought you two were dating…”

Dating? Who said anything about dating?

“Um, well… anyway, the gist is our hero wants to learn something from the Colonel, right? I don’t know what, exactly, but…”

The Saint tapped her cigarette onto an ashtray and exhaled a thin puff of smoke. I took the cue and recited what I’d been mulling over earlier.

“Yes, she wants to learn magic.”

“Oh, from the looks of it, Colonel seems to be lying through his teeth. Why are you trying to hide something from us?”

“It’s true! By the way, how would the Saint know if I’m lying or not?”

“Umm… intuition?”

Veronica trailed off, her eyes narrowing as she smiled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She really is sharp.

I really need to either find a time to teach her or just bury this whole thing quickly.

As I was lost in thought, Veronica suddenly frowned and shot up from the sofa.

“…Colonel, were you just thinking something really inappropriate?”

“Excuse me…?”

“Hmm…! Something seems off….”

“Please, don’t say strange things. I’m asking you nicely.”

“Why are you so wound up today? If you drop dead, it’ll look like you died from a weird cause while being with me.”

“Saint, as I repeatedly say, please cut the crap—”

“Okay, okay. Can’t even take a joke…”

Veronica, who had been sulking like a kid, finally lit her cigarette again and slumped back on the sofa.

“Anyway, the hero asked the Colonel to teach her something, and the Colonel doesn’t want to teach it. That’s the gist, right?”

“Not that he doesn’t want to; it’s more of an awkward situation, I guess.”

“Hmm….”

With her eyes half-closed, the Saint tapped her fingers on her narrowed brow, deep in thought. Given her appearance, it felt like I was looking at a well-crafted piece of sacred art.

…If only we could take the cigarette out of her fingers.

“Um, I just thought of a good idea.”

“What is it?”

Veronica lifted one corner of her mouth in a mischievous smile.

“Just teach her a bit and call it quits.”

“What?”

“Think about it. If the other person desperately wants something but you don’t want to give everything up, just giving a little piece isn’t a bad method.”

“…….”

“You don’t know what the hero wants to learn, but just toss out the basics. Or give her incomplete information.”

“Wait, wait, hold on. What did you just say…?”

“I said just give her the basics.”

“No, not that.”

“Give her incomplete information? Anyway, wrap it up quickly. Don’t let yourself suffer anymore. Go look in the mirror. Is the Colonel even human right now? You look like a walking corpse.”

At that moment, I felt like the energy of the universe was wrapping around me.

Right.

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I sprang up from my seat, and Veronica jumped in surprise, reaching out, almost setting her cigarette on fire.

-Thunk!

“Ah, what the heck! Why’d you suddenly jump up?! I almost burned my fingers!”

“Saint, you’re really clever.”

“Wh-what are you talking about all of a sudden…?”

There was no time for responses.

I left Veronica, who had her eyes wide open like she’d seen a ghost, and rushed out of the room to find Camila.

And as soon as I burst into the hotel lobby, I ran straight into Camila waddling in with both hands full of plastic bags.

“Camila!”

“Oh, Colonel?”

“You said you wanted to learn skills, right? Something practical you can use in the field.”

“Th-that’s right…?”

“Do you want to learn it now?”

Camila looked stunned and didn’t answer. She blinked her big, wide eyes, matching my gaze before pointing at the clock in the lobby, whispering in a small voice.

“It’s… three in the morning…?”

0327 hours.

Just the right time for a little workout.

 

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