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“Juan Pablo Martinez. 46-year-old male. A national of Patalia from the Nicario Republic. After graduating from the Academy, he worked as an adventurer on the Mauritania Continent. He became an official in the Magic Tower 15 years ago and is currently the Planning Coordinator at the Secretariat. He has no family and all his friends are civil servants…”

*Shatter!*

Documents scattered like a curling stone slipping on an icy rink.

“How’s the background investigation on this guy going?”

Pippin subtly raised her hand. The analyst, with a pen wedged between her index, middle fingers, and thumb, responded with an enthusiastic burst.

“According to the information agent’s report, there are about six people in the Northern Regions currently maintaining a friendly relationship with Martinez. They’re all officials from the Secretariat, and it appears they have been dispatched to the North.”

“Anything else?”

Jake uncrossed his legs.

“I looked into his lifestyle patterns, eating habits, and health.”

As I reached out, the documents landed neatly in my palm. I began to read the papers Jake had prepared, and he reported on the findings.

“With the help of the Information Officers at the Magic Tower, we secured the medical records of the investigation subjects, including Martinez. It appears they’re suffering from various ailments, primarily involving the liver, gallbladder, and pancreas. Some have high blood pressure or digestive issues too.”

“What do they say is the cause?”

“They say it’s stress. There are also dietary issues.”

Jake shivered a bit as he added, “It’s a modern person’s chronic illness, right? They must have gotten sick from working late all the time.”

At that moment, Pippin, who was organizing the documents, flinched and shuddered.

“Isn’t that us…?”

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician in History

Ever since Leoni’s orders were given, we became busier than a bee in a flower garden.

Using the information obtained through Francesca, we reviewed our operation with the subordinates.

“I went through the paperwork, and it seems everyone is dealing with some illness.”

I used the gathered information to brainstorm assassination methods.

“How about an assassination using a disease as a method? What do you think?”

“Hmm….”

Pippin, with her arms crossed, nodded thoughtfully.

“I like it!”

The analyst began analyzing the situations of the assassination targets.

“According to the medical records, the designated targets assigned by the company appear to be suffering from various ailments. Liver, gallbladder, pancreas, heart rate, and digestive capabilities… The cause is stress, but if they have these diseases, their immunity is likely to be significantly lowered.”

The first option was assassination through poisoning. To be precise, it involved adding poison to food, considering the existing diseases.

Stress, chronic illnesses, and eating habits all have significant impacts on the body. The organs most directly affected are the liver, gallbladder, pancreas, cardiovascular system, and digestive system.

In other words, those are the organs that would suffer direct damage if toxic substances were ingested.

“A low-lethal-dose poison might be threatening given their current conditions. Their health issues would lower their resistance to poison. I think it’s feasible.”

Moreover, using a poison with a not-so-high lethal dose would likely cause the investigation agency to look for health-related causes rather than assassination.

Thus, if we chose the first operation, the likelihood of a “hidden wife” being accepted would increase, and the Information Officers who executed the operation would have a better chance of slipping out from under the investigation net.

Pippin positively evaluated the first operation proposal.

“I’m against it.”

Jake, seated across from Pippin, suddenly interjected.

“While poisoning is a high-success-rate assassination method, there are too many variables that need to be considered for it to succeed.”

Jake tapped the documents in front of him.

“Poisoning is primarily used to prevent collateral damage, increase the success rate, and provides easier situation control. But don’t we already have a situation where the targets can’t even ingest poison?”

The key to poisoning assassination is that the target must somehow consume the poison, either willingly or unwillingly.

Whether it’s drinking a beverage left out of sight after an intense workout or enjoying whiskey daily stored away in the cupboard.

People have different lifestyle patterns and habits, and information agencies dig into these nuances during assassinations.

Jake pointed out exactly that.

“The Secretariat’s magicians often go out for fieldwork. Since their assigned tasks and areas of activity change every time, there’s no way to poison them. They eat at different restaurants every day and get their water either from public sources or through water purifiers. How can we carry out an assassination like that?”

As the Information Officer countered, the analyst crossed her arms, deeply troubled.

“What about slipping something into the purifier?”

“The Secretariat isn’t the only one using those purifiers. If someone innocent ends up drinking poison, how do you plan to handle that?”

“Then how about obtaining their schedules in advance and bribing the restaurant staff?”

“We need to know where they’re eating to bribe them. If you really want to poison them, we need to orchestrate that kind of situation ourselves.”

I dragged the documents closer and spat out, “Do we have any alternatives? Using anything other than poison in this kind of situation feels far too risky.”

“If you prefer poisoning, there are plenty of other methods.”

“Spill it. If there are many options, it’d be easier to review.”

At this point, Jake put forth an alternative.

“How about swapping the medications or supplements they take?”

The second operation proposal was still an assassination using poisoning, but with a slightly different angle.

Mixing poison into food or drink carries the risk of accidents occurring. There could be scenarios where food is shared or drinks are poured into glasses for others, leading to unintended targets ingesting the poison.

Therefore, information agencies usually avoid adding poison to dishes shared by multiple people, like stews or hot pots.

But with medication, the story changes.

“Medications are usually consumed only by the prescribed individual, so the probability of unrelated civilians dying is low. The same applies to supplements. If an assassination target has cardiovascular issues, even using a non-poisonous substance could potentially lead to a fatal outcome.”

“If people with high blood pressure take the wrong medication, it could be catastrophic.”

Of course, there are many other methods.

One could sneak into a hospital room while civil servants are receiving intravenous fluids and swap the medications to disguise an incident as a medical accident, or release a poisonous animal while someone is asleep. Just toss in two or three venomous snakes into their basket and shake them up before tossing them onto their bed!

If you attack me, the venomous snakes will bite at your limbs or your face!

However, there’s no method that guarantees perfect success.

Pippin expressed her concern.

“If we mismanage the drug dosage, we can’t rule out the possibility that the assassination might fail. Plus, to find out the medications or supplements taken by the target, we might have to infiltrate their accommodation. Most importantly, since assassinations using poison will show up in autopsies, the Imperial investigation agency will soon uncover the truth behind it if they analyze the components of the drugs and supplements.”

“We could leverage a grudge to make it look like someone who doesn’t get along with the target did it.”

“But Manager, then we’ll have to create an alibi for ourselves.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Just keep talking. It’s easier to consider options when there are many, and besides, this isn’t our operation.”

Jake, who had been rummaging through the documents, let out a small laugh.

“Let’s just swap the medication. If they eat it and die, we can easily deny any involvement. We only provided the information. The operation will be handled by other employees. And besides, it’s not even decided whether we will go through with the assassination, right?”

“Well….”

I pulled out a bottle of medicine from the shelf and tossed it to Jake.

“Here.”

“What’s this? Isn’t it for you, Manager?”

“Yeah, right. It’s my painkiller.”

The pills in the bottle were painkillers prescribed by the doctor for me when I was unconscious, courtesy of Lucia.

I pointed at the cap of the painkiller bottle with my finger.

“Take a good look.”

“…?”

Jake narrowed his eyes and inspected the cap. Pippin, who had been jotting down notes with a pen, also leaned over to check the cap beside Jake.

The white cap of the painkiller bottle had a fine line inscribed on it that wouldn’t be noticed unless seen up close.

“What is this line? It doesn’t seem like a tear line.”

“I drew it myself.”

“Huh? Why did you do that, Manager?”

“In case someone tries to sneakily open it and swap the medication.”

I gestured towards the bottles that Jake and Pippin were holding.

“If one of the targets has prepared this way, the entire operation could fall apart. It’s not far-fetched to assume high-ranking officials in the company would do the same. After all, there are more than a few people they want dead….”

“…….”

Pippin looked at me with a frown. Jake, who had been examining the bottle, suddenly burst into laughter.

“Manager. No offense, but you really have a peculiar personality. Do you happen to have a mental illness?”

“This punk must be crazy. How dare you accuse your superior of having a mental illness?”

“Jake….”

I kicked Jake’s shin with my boot, and Pippin looked at the jumping Jake with a somewhat exasperated expression.

Just then, Charnoy returned from an external assignment, holding something aloft and shouting.

“Everyone, look at this…!”

It was a large glass jar filled to the brim with shiny, glistening candy.

“On the way back to the hotel, Luciano gave me candy…! Truly a nymph-friendly act…! Since I feel so good, I’ll share the candy with everyone…!”

Excited, Charnoy pulled out a handful of candy from the jar and distributed it to Pippin and Jake. Pippin patted her head in thanks, while Jake, who was tending to his shin, sniffled as he stuffed the candy into his mouth.

As I was busy organizing the collected data to send to the embassy, Charnoy, who had been distributing the candy to his subordinates, approached me.

“Frederick, you should eat one too!”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Ah!”

As Charnoy extended the candy, she suddenly seemed to remember something and looked up at me with wide eyes.

“By the way, Luciano has been looking for you… You should go out and see her right away….”

“…….”

I popped the candy Charnoy handed me into my mouth. The sweetness surged immediately.

Feeling the sharp sweetness tingle on my tongue, I packed my pistol, magazine, and a knife from my bag.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Pippin, who had been chatting with Charnoy, peeked her head out.

“Where are you going?”

I turned the doorknob and replied.

“To work.”

*

As I exited the hotel and walked toward the back door, a small alley appeared.

The shadowy side of a big city. In a place where the skyscrapers obstructed even the glamorous night view, there stood Lucia.

“Did you call for me?”

As I slowly raised my head, her golden hair, like spun gold, cascaded down beneath her white cloak.

“You’ve arrived. I encountered a nymph on my way, and it seems you’ve been informed.”

“If possible, please avoid being seen by others. It won’t do us any good for people to know that the Saint and I are moving separately.”

“Are you worried for me?”

“I’m merely advising you.”

“In that case, I’ll take that as a concern. Thank you for your advice.”

Lucia smiled back at me.

Carrying a heavy wooden box tucked under her arm and a small bag over her shoulder, she approached, looking around as if mindful of her surroundings.

“Since it’s the first day, we shouldn’t overdo it. How much time can you spare?”

“I can manage about two hours. If there’s no contact from the Military Government, I might be able to stay out for an additional hour.”

“That’s not very ample time. Nevertheless, we should certainly be able to explore one city. Oh, and I have what you requested.”

Lucia produced several documents and passports from her robe. They were the cult passports and transit permits from the Northern Regions, clearly stamped with the seals of the Holy See and the Imperial Military Government Headquarters.

As I tucked the passports and permits away, I quietly said, “Let’s go. We are off to find the Demon.”

 

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