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“Camila, do you know what one of the virtues required by the Information Agency is?”

Receiving my question, Camila gave a short hum before blurting out an answer.

“…crazy?”

“……”

“Just kidding. It’s patriotism, right?”

Camila laughed mischievously. It was the anticipated answer.

Of course, her response wasn’t entirely wrong. But it wasn’t the answer I had hoped for.

I explained to Camila, who was wrapped in a blanket and sipping tea, what one of the most important virtues was.

“Patriotism is correct, but the answer is abstinence.”

“Abstinence? Like moderation or something?”

I nodded.

“When you work in this line of work, there are things you don’t want to do and things you have to do, but often you can’t do what you want.”

“For example?”

“When deployed to a Middle Eastern country where alcohol is forbidden, you can’t even touch a drink. People who enjoyed local cigarettes suddenly have to smoke the foreign ones, adapt to food they find unpalatable, can’t date, miss family during the holidays, have to wake up early for video conferences….”

“Ugh, that sounds horrendous.”

“Can you really live a life where you only do what you want? Well, you can’t just play around and get paid at work either. It’s somewhat similar.”

I kindly settled Camila down for tea time and explained the 101 labor law violations one might experience when entering the Information Agency.

But Camila merely fiddled with her shiny teacup, barely listening.

After a long silence following my explanation, she bluntly spat out,

“So, is that why you woke me up at the crack of dawn? Prudence?”

“Yep.”

“……”

A strong wind suddenly blew, causing the window to rattle. A blizzard raged outside, creating a chilling landscape that made my teeth chatter just by looking at it.

Perfect weather for training.

“Let’s go.”

—

Episode 10 – Turn Northwest

—

The shooting training began in the same manner as before. Now that they were familiar with pistols and rifles, we skipped precision firing and moved on to tactical shooting.

Since there was training equipment at the base, there was no need to request supplies. By the way, there was a new bulletproof vest suitable for both men and women.

“When the buzzer sounds, start. Please wear your hearing protection.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Alright, here we go.”

– Beep!

When the signal dropped, Camila fired at several targets. She alternated shooting the targets attached to both left and right sides, struck moving targets, and sometimes faced sudden threats.

Her marksmanship was accurate.

Of course, Camila wasn’t only shooting.

“Malfunction!”

Camila had also been trained in emergency handling. It was training in case issues arose with firearms, such as a jam during shooting.

When I signaled her, she quickly hit the magazine behind her shoulder, pulled the trigger, and fired the weapon.

Her stance suggested that she wasn’t just playing around with getting a gun license. Camila handled the rifle hired by the Abas military quite deftly.

“Why are you being so clumsy just pulling the trigger?”

“Uh….”

“Don’t hesitate, just pull it quickly. Tilt the grip of the pistol inward and pull the magazine straight out with your left hand.”

“Like this?”

“Exactly. Why are you hesitating if you’re doing it right?”

The Kien Empire army rifle was a bit awkward, but it seemed she was adapting reasonably well after repeated practice.

– Bang! Bang!

In the blizzard, Camila continued her relentless training, exhaling white breaths as she shot at various targets from a standing position, quickly clearing jams and swapping empty magazines.

As Camila began to get accustomed to the training, I cleared the snow alone and pulled the car parked outside the farm for the next session.

“You need to learn how to shoot from behind a vehicle. Have you ever seen movies where they use cars as cover during a firefight?”

“Yes.”

“If there are no covers around, a vehicle can be a good option. But even if a vehicle looks sturdy, not every part can stop bullets. You better position yourself well unless you want to become a target.”

I demonstrated first.

The first situation I showcased was engaging an enemy in the direction of the vehicle’s front.

“When enemies appear up front, come behind the vehicle to hide. Never hide behind things like windows, but behind the wheels should provide decent cover, as long as the vehicle doesn’t get shot through entirely.”

“What if the enemy appears from the left or right?”

“You’d want to hide around the engine room. It’s actually the sturdiest part.”

I demonstrated shooting from the engine room as cover and lying prone to shoot from behind the wheels.

“Tilting the gun this way means there’s less exposed area compared to resting the gun on the engine room and firing. You can get much better cover.”

“If you’re shooting lying down, make sure nothing gets into the muzzle. It might be uncomfortable, but keep enough distance between the muzzle and the ground. Otherwise, you might damage your firearm or suffer from sand or snow kicking up.”

Training continued non-stop.

Camila rolled around in the snowy field until lunch and, after eating, repeatedly got on and off the vehicle. She was so focused that even in this freezing weather, she was sweating buckets.

As time went on, sweat stained her clothes and bulletproof vest, and whenever she stopped moving for even a moment, Camila would shiver in the December cold.

“I’m going to… I’m going to freeze to death…! At this rate, I think I’m going to get hypothermia….”

“It’s okay. You won’t die, you won’t die.”

“And how can you be so sure…?”

“Because I’ve been through it.”

Removing the whistle from my mouth and chuckling, Camila shuttered as if she’d seen a demon.

After training for a long while, the moment I told her to stop, she collapsed and cuddled the rifle, lying flat.

“Ughhh…!”

“Feeling exhausted, huh?”

She nodded weakly, her red hair dusted with snow.

I detached the magazine from Camila’s rifle and pulled the trigger multiple times towards the air. Only after performing a safety check did I finally end the shooting training.

“Good job. Now let’s go inside, get cleaned up, and warm ourselves.”

Breathing heavily, Camila asked in a lackluster voice,

“Is that it for the shooting today…?”

“Why skip out on night shooting? Do you think battles won’t happen at night?”

“Ah.”

A short gasp escaped her along with her white breath. Her eyes lost focus.

I got the slumped Camila back on her feet and brushed off the snow while offering some advice.

“Giving up would be easier.”

—

After the shooting training, we cleaned up the yard and went inside for a brief rest.

While I was setting up the Military Intelligence Agency’s equipment and cables, Camila lay on the bed like a dead mouse, drifting off to sleep.

I located the connectors to supply magic power, linked the cables for signals, activated the security programs, and accessed the network to download a day’s worth of updated data.

As expected of a safe house, the speed was top-notch, but due to the enormous capacity, it took quite some time.

It took around 2 hours to download the materials and sort through the paperwork.

When the sun was slowly setting, all the preparation work was finally completed.

Upon entering the room, I could hear Camila’s multi-colored breaths. She was curled up in her blanket, wandering in dreamland like a caterpillar.

“Camila.”

“…Mmm.”

“Camila, wake up.”

“…Just 10 more minutes.”

I shook the groggy Camila awake.

But tired Camila resisted rising; after much effort, she finally got her upper body up and opened her eyes at last.

“Get organized and come out. Everything’s ready.”

“*sigh*… Just let me wash my face first.”

Camila took 5 more minutes to wash her face.

When she finally stumbled out to the table, a new training session was about to begin.

—

“…What was today’s training again?”

“Intelligence gathering and analysis.”

“Hmm, just hearing it gives me a headache….”

Camila muttered, pressing her temples.

“Do you need headache medicine?”

“Ah, do you have any? If so, could you give me some?”

I took some headache medicine from the fridge and handed it to Camila. She swallowed two pills without water and gulped.

“*sigh*….”

Once her headache seemed to ease, Camila sighed and spoke to me.

“I think I feel better. Let’s get started.”

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Now that I decided to teach her the knowledge necessary to become an Information Officer, I wasn’t going to slack off.

Even though Camila majored in national intelligence and had SIS internship experience, it was still insufficient on its own.

So before addressing her weaknesses, I needed to hide them as much as possible while emphasizing her strengths.

And what she excelled at was information analysis.

I operated the terminal to display the data and turned the screen towards Camila.

“What is this?”

“This is a report prepared by the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The countries listed here are potential places we might go to in the future.”

Camila squinted, trying to read the text on the screen, while sipping her drink.

“Hmm. A few of these names sound familiar. I think I’ve seen them a lot in newspapers and news.”

“Which countries stand out to you?”

“Latoun, Kirkevore, Edhelond, Brudie, Slaghna, Al-Rabiya, Tarkan….”

She recited the names skillfully.

“…Donorias, Suriyati, and Kien. That’s a lot, huh? At least fifteen.”

“Why did you stop counting in the middle?”

“Because there were just too many.”

That was a remarkably candid answer. After all, there are quite a few countries around here.

I continued to speak as I tapped the keyboard with my left hand and rummaged through a pile of documents with my right.

“There are exactly 37 countries listed in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs report. All of them are suffering due to war, civil strife, epidemics, natural disasters, the supernatural, demons, monsters, or miscellaneous creatures. At the same time, they’re also potential locations for us to visit.”

“Oh my, how are we ever going to visit all these countries?”

Lynn Camila muttered as she wrapped her head. It was so funny that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mean that we will definitely go there, just that there’s a possibility we might someday.”

In a nutshell, it was a prediction.

The Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs gathered various information from diplomats dispatched around the world and from foreign diplomats residing in Abas. Based on that, they created a list of countries we might visit in the future. So, this document is essentially an analysis report.

Having heard such a story, Camila asked this question.

“Isn’t there something like an international organization here? Like the UN Security Council or a Peacekeeping Force…?”

“Of course there is.”

A country is fundamentally an interest group. A massive community that maintains the government and promotes national interests.

And as history has shown, every country has its own circumstances, and instances where interests align are quite rare. Just look at trade disputes and maritime blockades, and wouldn’t the answers be evident?

Conflicts are bound to arise between nations that oppose one another for historical, religious, political, and economic reasons. And because such issues generally contain complex backstories, finding fundamental solutions to the conflicts has been challenging.

Thus, the UN was born.

An international organization established post-World War II for cooperation and world peace. This region has something like the UN as well.

The problem is,

“But right now, it’s not functioning properly.”

It’s become a joke.

“Why is that?”

“Recently, a group of spies got exposed all at once, leading to the expulsion of all diplomats and the closure of embassies. Already divided among democratic states, monarchies, and dictatorships, diplomatic issues blew up and things got a bit dicey.”

“Oh, I saw that on the news. They chased away the ambassadors, right?”

Of course, the reason behind the diplomatic expulsion rush was because of us. But that’s none of my concern.

The important thing is that the international organization has become a farce.

“Originally, you, Camila, should’ve been part of the international organization. There was an agreement to invite heroes, guardians of norms, deities, and such when the international organization was being established.”

“Really? But I don’t think I’ve ever seen any news about that.”

“That’s because you were the first summoned after the international organization was formed. You’re the first person from this region to enter the international organization.”

“Wow!”

Camila smiled brightly in awe.

“Don’t get too excited, though, because it’s not happening right now.”

The Government of Abas wants to manage and support Camila as much as possible. To be precise, they want her under their influence.

So, they are stirring up trouble through countries close to Abas (democratic nations, dictatorship tendencies leaning towards democracy, etc.) to keep the international organization in its current ineffective state.

Of course, the international organization becoming such a mess is tied to complicated behind-the-scenes dealings among major powers like Abas, Kien, and Patalia, but that can wait. Besides, sending Camila to a dysfunctional international organization doesn’t seem like the best idea…

Anyway.

“First, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs has identified a country as a likely next destination. Compared to other nations, it seems relatively better off, but since it’s a country that significantly influences the international stage, it’s almost confirmed as our next stop.”

“Where is that?”

As I tapped on the keyboard, the screen changed, displaying a national flag.

“The Kien Empire.”

I continued to flip through slides, explaining the Kien Empire’s politics, society, economy, culture, industry, defense, and foreign affairs.

With over 200 ethnicities. A vast territory comparable to a continent. Three major religions. Nine parliamentary parties. Enormous natural resources. A large rural labor force. A low food production rate. Major industries including steel, chemicals, heavy industry, and electronics. A royal dictatorship. An enormous standing army, among other things.

Just looking at it made my eyes feel like they were going to pop out, but surprisingly, Camila showed strong concentration.

She quickly scanned the texts and charts on the screen while listening to my explanations.

“This is the basic information on the Kien Empire prepared by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Just so you know, the Abas Information Agency also receives this, so make sure to read it thoroughly.”

“Does the Information Agency really get information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?”

“Since the modern era, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs has taken on the role of the Information Agency. The modern concept of information agencies was born through World War I and World War II.”

Even in the 21st century, where agencies like the CIA, SIS, and Mossad exist, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs shows capabilities equivalent to those of an information agency.

“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Information Department are just a piece of paper apart. That’s why the U.S. State Department hires information officers who analyze data as information managers, and the British Intelligence Service scouts long-serving diplomats as regional information officers. If you ever change your mind, try the Ministry of Foreign Affairs instead of SIS. There’s nothing wrong with slowly gaining experience and considering your career there.”

“Diplomat… I hadn’t thought about it, but that’s good advice. Thank you.”

What’s with such compliments?

While I flipped through the materials, I found a document.

“Anyway, back to the main point. The Kien Empire has recently been engaged in disputes with the beastmen at the border. It’s not a full-scale war, but more of a localized conflict that’s been going on for about four years. In the beginning, it seemed like the Kien Empire would easily overpower them, so we thought we would win without much difficulty…”

“And then?”

“It seems that pushing back the beastmen is not so easy. Recently, they’ve started receiving support from magic towers, cults, and allied nations.”

The word “support” got the brain of the Cambridge university student going.

“Support isn’t exactly anything special, is it? The Soviet Union had support from East Germany when they were at war in Afghanistan. Similarly, when pro-Soviet countries in the Middle East went to war, the Soviets sent support.”

“…….”

“I have a feeling there might be something different going on, though.”

Camila asked with a bright smile, subtly probing. So, I returned her smile.

“We don’t know either.”

“…Excuse me?”

I flipped to the next screen.

“Four years ago, when military provocations were rampant, the imperial government imposed a movement restriction on the frontline areas. Civilian movements, including access, were completely controlled, so except for authorized military, police, and civil servants, no one else could enter.”

“…….”

“The movement restrictions that were declared in the frontline areas eventually turned into a state of emergency, and they expanded to the northern regions, which were relatively behind the front lines. Now, a state of emergency has been declared over the entire north, so no one can go in or out. Naturally, information collection has also become impossible. The infiltrated information agents couldn’t return.”

“…Could they have been captured?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know that either. They’ve been treated as missing due to loss of communication, but it’s safe to assume that all assets that haven’t been reported in years are dead. They might have been caught by the counterintelligence agency or unlucky enough to get caught up in the fighting.”

From the fact that counterintelligence activities of the imperial information agencies, including the Imperial Guard HQ, strengthened two years after the outbreak of the conflict, it’s likely that a few were caught. They probably tortured the information agents to gather intel on the information officers and then built up their mileage before striking.

After that, the information network was relentlessly dismantled by the Imperial Guard HQ and police, and operations to infiltrate agents and operatives into the north were all halted. At least, that’s what I know.

As Camila’s expression grew serious, I found a report buried under a mountain of papers.

“This is a Ministry of Foreign Affairs report summarizing the materials I showed you earlier. It contains more detailed information and is filled with data you need to become familiar with going forward.”

When Camila received the report, a look of bewilderment crossed her face.

And it was understandable since it was a hefty document of several hundred pages. This was practically an encyclopedia.

“Wow, how thick is this? I could probably hide my whole head with this. Let me see.”

Camila brought the bound documents up to her face. It really covered her entire face. Was it because her head was small or because the documents were huge? It was probably a bit of both.

As I organized the documents, I instructed Camila.

“Read this by tomorrow.”

“…Huh?”

“I said read it by tomorrow.”

“All of it?”

“Yes. All of it.”

“…….”

Camila shot me a fierce glare as if questioning my sanity.

“Why?”

“I mentioned that for the analyst’s report to hold credibility, you need a comprehensive understanding of the area in question. Politics, economics, society, culture, philosophy, history. Without that knowledge, you can’t analyze it. So, I’m telling you to familiarize yourself.”

“…You can’t be serious.”

Camila, looking quite flustered, snapped back.

“Are you telling me to analyze what’s happening in the north right now?”

“Wow. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you? Impressive….”

“…….”

The spark in her bright blue eyes dimmed. She looked like her very soul had left her body.

While Camila donned a lost expression, hugging the document like a lifebuoy, I continued organizing the papers and explaining more.

“I’m not asking you to analyze something monumental. Just pick a topic you want and analyze it as freely as your ability allows. Or, if you prefer, I can assign a simple topic for you to work on.”

“…Can I analyze something like Islamic terrorist organizations again, like last time?”

“No, you can’t.”

“…….”

“Alright.”

I laid down the paper containing the analytical techniques I could recall and handed a device to Camila.

“Make a project plan by dinner.”

“…….”

“By the way, if you hand in a rough plan, dinner will be boiled potatoes.”

With a hefty encyclopedia of materials in her arms,

the expression on Camila, sitting among countless sheets and equipment, was quite entertaining.

*

As a side note.

That evening, Camila received three potatoes.

 

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