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There’s nothing quite as ironic as looking for a job while on holiday abroad, yet here I was, standing in front of the Embassy of the Kingdom of Abas.

“Colonel Frederick Nostrim?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you might be here. Would you please come inside for a moment?”

Guided by the embassy staff, I arrived in an office where I was able to receive several items.

“It was quite a busy journey for you, wasn’t it?”

“Everyone seems to be frantic since the beginning of the year.”

“Still, since you’re on holiday, make sure to enjoy yourself. Let me show you the items. First up, the transportation.”

Tickets for the train heading south, a prepaid phone activated through a local carrier, eavesdropping prevention equipment, and contact numbers for emergencies, among other things.

The staff also shared some little tips, like the locations of local restaurants or currency exchange booths that safely exchange money with local currency.

“That’s enough. This looks sufficient.”

I gathered my things and exited the embassy.

—

**Episode 13 – A Country Without Magicians**

The accommodation arranged by the company, Meraviglia Hotel, is in a city called “Galbria” in southern Patalia.

Galbria is Patalia’s second city, representing the southern metropolitan area, akin to Busan in South Korea.

As mentioned in the example, Galbria is a region developed through maritime industry.

Patalia’s largest port is located in Galbria, which is also home to the First Fleet of the Patalian Navy that has been competing for dominance over the oceans with the Lushan Federal Kingdom, which had boasted the “Solar Fleet” since the days of monarchy.

Thus, when I finally set foot in Galbria, the train’s final destination, the first things to greet me were the salty winds, tightly packed buildings, and the vast azure sea shimmering like emeralds.

“Ugh… What kind of winter weather is this…”

As the dazzling sunlight poured down on me the moment I stepped off the train, a smile broke through despite my scrunched-up face.

Just a week prior, I had been shivering with frozen toes in the bitter cold of the most dangerous Kien northern regions, fully geared.

And now, here I was in the most entertaining area of the continent, dressed lightly, dragging what could barely be called a suitcase (more like a shabby backpack).

I pulled out my sunglasses in January and couldn’t help but chuckle.

It was more of a self-deprecating laugh than pure joy.

“Heh…”

If I had known this would happen, I would’ve applied for a position as a military diplomat in Patalia. Why did I ever choose the Kien Empire as my first posting?

Regret washed over me, but I couldn’t turn back the clock.

“Indeed, advanced countries are the best…”

With a hollow laugh, I adjusted my sunglasses, slinging my backpack over my shoulder and leaving the train station behind.

—

Meraviglia Hotel was situated a bit off the downtown area.

To be precise, it was located somewhere along the boundary of the old town, famous for its hundreds of years old buildings and the new commercial buildings and offices densely packed in the new town.

“…It seems to be a location where the charming beauty of the old merges with the modern flair, allowing foreign businesspeople to enjoy both work and leisure.”

On the terrace of the hotel’s upper floors.

Leaning against the railing, I took in the breathtaking view created by the quaint Mediterranean-style buildings and the blue-green sea.

Watching the white froth and the people frolicking on the sandy beach made the days spent in the northern regions feel like a distant dream.

-‘Who did you hear that from?’

“The hotel staff mentioned it. Since it was my first time, he just kept blabbing.”

-‘Sounds like someone with a lot of pride in their work. I wish you were a bit more like that.’

“All a salaryman needs to do is earn their keep.”

-‘Hey there, can’t you take a joke?’

With Klavens’s teasing not quite a teasing, coming through the secured line, I exhaled the smoke from my cigarette with a smile.

Patalian cigarettes have a somewhat bland taste, unlike those from the Kien Empire. Unique, perhaps? They aren’t nearly as potent as those from the Empire.

Smoking a Patalian cigarette I bought at a stall near the station, I sipped my drink.

Overall, my impulsive (forced) overseas trip wasn’t so bad so far.

Klavens remarked.

-‘You called back a lot sooner than I expected. Did you sleep?’

“I got enough nap time on the train. I contacted you right after I checked into the hotel.”

-‘I’ve heard things happened on your way.’

“Things? Ah— those tails.”

The sound of Klavens’s approving hum traveled through the line. I nodded in response.

“As soon as I came out of the Warp Gate, the tails showed up. They had been following me from the embassy to the train. I think I encountered about seven of them.”

Since the moment I entered the country, I’d been tailed like a shadow.

The first four handlers I met followed me from the immigration checkpoint to the embassy and then on to the train.

When a railway employee entered the coach to check tickets, two of them got off, and shortly after, a new face appeared, bringing the tail count down to three. These three left their seat as the train approached the station and never returned.

There was also a vehicle trailing from the final station. Two people: the driver in the driver’s seat and the passenger in the front seat. They made a wide turn around the hotel I checked into and then just drove off towards downtown.

“Considering the concentration of foreign consulates and trading companies in the city, they are all presumed to be spies from a third country. The Patalian folks couldn’t possibly be them.”

-‘Hmm…’

It wasn’t easy to pinpoint nationalities from the information officers of various races.

But one thing was certain.

-‘Did anyone recognize you?’

“No, I didn’t see any familiar faces.”

-‘Looks like you won’t be able to enjoy a peaceful vacation.’

I chuckled bitterly.

I expected it, but they were already causing a fuss from the start of the year. I couldn’t exactly throw a fit and demand they stop tailing me just because I was on vacation.

With the holidays slowly approaching, I couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing abroad.

Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind of a time I received a scolding from my mother for not coming home during the Lunar New Year, while on a flight to Casablanca. It left a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

“As if it’s just them who aren’t resting easy today?”

-‘That’s true.’

It must have been late afternoon by the time I arrived, as the sunset began casting its hues. Sensing that the mood was ripening, I paused before saying anything.

After taking a big gulp of my drink, I pulled the bottle away from my lips. Drawing on the bland cigarette, I exhaled and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

Returning from the terrace to my hotel room, I inspected the eavesdropping prevention equipment on the table.

Then, perched on the edge of the bed, feeling the gentle breeze blowing through the slightly open door, I slowly opened my mouth.

“Director.”

-‘Speak.’

“I want to know what’s going on in the north.”

—

I inquired about the situation in the north, but the response I received was dismal.

He implied that I shouldn’t want to discuss work while on holiday, suggesting either finishing my meal or at least taking a walk around the hotel before calling back.

Klavens conveyed a rather indirect yet clear refusal. I clung tightly to his pant leg for information, but I couldn’t get what I wanted.

In the end, it was me who had to back off, not him.

“That stubborn old man…”

Just like Klavens said, I left the hotel and strolled through downtown Galbria. Since I’d gotten a rare holiday, I figured I should enjoy it.

Given that the hotel was located at the boundary between the old and new towns, I decided to explore the tourist spots in the old town first.

The binary division of old and new towns is a phenomenon often seen in these parts, except for the pioneering or reclaimed areas.

This limitation arose because safe living spaces are finite, and humans can only settle in so many places.

Centuries ago, the residents settled, formed villages as populations grew, evolved into cities, and eventually clustered into regions and formed nations. They grew like LEGO blocks fitting together.

A fishing village by the harbor, next to it a dockyard, the dock too small—let’s build a road and expand it into a harbor. Not only fishing boats but merchant ships should come in too. Let’s even station warships to fend off pirates.

In that process, countless tears, sweat, and blood from enslaved races were sprinkled about, but that is now but a matter of the past.

Just as black slavery was once legal in Europe, the same held true for the enslaved races on the continent at one time.

The Maoist goblins, armed and hiding in the jungle to cultivate cocaine for their ancient cause, the traditionalist orcs producing an overwhelming amount of marijuana to sell worldwide while confronting the government army in the desert, and the anarchist beastmen and eco-fascist elves bursting out whenever a protest ignites—these were all born, but the story isn’t that important.

Well, it might be important to someone like Jake.

Burning down the drug fields and kidnapping HVTs (High Value Targets) is what the Abas Special Forces dispatched abroad does. Or maybe assassinating them.

I’ve heard they’ve been deployed twice. They even executed mid-level executives of local warlords personally. That experience probably got them into the Military Intelligence Agency.

Of course, it’s illegal and could get you in deep trouble, but nobody seems to care. The people from the Kien Empire and Patalia are doing the same thing anyway.

Anyway.

No matter how dark the past of the city might be, the night view glowing in the city was brilliantly dazzling.

“The view is nice.”

I wandered aimlessly through the old town of Galbria.

The cobblestone path bathed in the sunset was beautiful. The aged stones sparkling in the sunlight and the wooden posts darkened by time.

Certainly, compared to the northern regions of the empire, this place was like paradise. If the red ones were desperately crying out for a paradise on earth, wouldn’t it be here? I thought so.

I bought a bottle of beer from a stall that was scamming tourists and strolled along the beach. Even as the scorching sun set beyond the horizon, there were plenty of people on the beach.

There were two warning signs in the back. The printed warning on the white background with red letters was nothing special.

[Warning! This area is one of the regions where marine monsters appear. Residents and tourists are advised to evacuate inland immediately when the siren sounds and to follow the military police’s instructions.]

[Warning! There are mines installed in the adjacent waters. If you discover a mine on the beach, please report it to the relevant authorities immediately.]

Beware of monsters. Beware of mines. Just your ordinary commonplace phrases.

“Monsters are rampaging here too.”

No matter how skillful the Patalian Navy might be, they can’t clear all the monsters inhabiting the vast sea. The No Man’s Land stretching along the border is no different.

The military spread mines and explosive devices across the fields, rivers, mountains, and seas to prevent monsters from crossing the border and attacking the city.

It’s a quite primitive method, but it’s effective.

There’s the issue of civilians dying from explosives washed away by waves or river currents, though.

While walking along the beach, I sipped my beer and bought gelato from a nearby stall. After sitting on a bench and slowly finishing the gelato, I picked a restaurant that looked decent among the recommendations from the embassy staff.

“Welcome.”

“Good evening. I’m here alone.”

“Right this way.”

The restaurant I went to was unremarkable, to say the least, but the reason I chose this place was that the seat prices weren’t too steep for a view of the sea.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Please give me sparkling water. What appetizers do you have?”

Since it was a solo meal, I decided to take my time.

I drank my appetizer while waiting for the starter to arrive and gazed at the sea, lost in thought for a moment.

The first thing that came to mind was the situation in the northern regions of the Kien Empire, where conflicts were ongoing. It was strange to think of work while on vacation, but habits are truly terrifying. As soon as I had a moment of leisure, work popped back into my mind.

Then, I thought about my family in Abas and the companions scattered across various places.

“…”

Lucia, as far as I knew, returned to the Cult.

Veronica remained in the north due to post-battle management, but since she had to tend to her battle wounds, Lucia returned home with a few casualties. I believe Priest Rebecca, who was severely injured, went back with her.

I do want to see them, but honestly, I still don’t know what to say when I face Lucia.

I know she has feelings for me, but human hearts are fickle, so I’m not even sure if I actually feel the same way toward her.

I’m also curious about how Camila and Francesca are doing. I heard they’re recuperating in the Magic Tower, and I can’t help but worry that Camila might cause some trouble.

Especially since Camila, like a bouncy ball that doesn’t know where it’ll bounce, has the power to set an entire mountain ablaze. Just thinking about the people clamoring for compensation for the buildings she burned down in the Magic Tower makes me…

“Ugh…”

I calmed my throbbing head and gulped down sparkling water to settle my burning insides.

It’s true I’m worried, but I don’t genuinely think Camila will cause a major incident. I trust her sharp mind and conscience.

If she were a fool, she’d probably fly straight toward Patalia or the Magic Tower, but she’s not a teenager, so I’m sure she’ll handle it well.

I was willing to overlook whatever she gets up to as long as she doesn’t overindulge in snacks.

A bit of anxiety settled in the corner of my heart, but I tried to ignore it as I sipped my appetizer.

“Hmm…”

The scenery was beautiful, the cocktail was sweet, and there was no one to disturb me.

Although my thoughts about my companions lingered for a long while, ironically, there’s barely any chance of me running into any of them for the time being.

Essentially, Camila, Lucia, and Francesca are not the type to move quietly. If any one of them entered Patalia, there’s no way I wouldn’t know. Especially Francesca.

She was the child of a traitor in her homeland and a public servant in the Magic Tower. And Patalia is the very country where Francesca was born and raised.

The Patalian government does not like her coming back to Patalia. Francesca feels the same way. Since she went abroad to study at the Magic Tower, she rarely returned home. She didn’t even keep in touch with her family.

Even including official duties, there aren’t many records of her entering Patalia in recent years. And whenever that happened, the National Security Agency would inevitably tail her to watch her. So she couldn’t come even if she wanted to.

But she probably doesn’t even want to.

At that moment, the door opened, and a woman walked in and sat in the seat behind me. Was it time for the restaurant to officially welcome customers? One by one, guests began to enter and take their seats.

I turned my gaze from the sea to the table. Next to the appetizer and sparkling water I had half-finished, a passport lay.

A memo sticking slightly out from the passport. The neatly folded note had a neatly written phone number.

“……”

Right. It’s vacation time, so I ought to see a familiar face.

I pulled out the memo and unfolded it, dialing the number written by the inspector. For a moment, I heard the ringing in my surroundings.

-Click.

The other party answered the call.

“Sophia.”

I sipped my appetizer and called her name.

“I know you’ve entered the country, so let’s skip the pleasantries. Do you really have to mess with me like this?”

The other party didn’t say anything.

She didn’t even say something like, “I think you’ve dialed the wrong number; my name isn’t Sophia.”

Instead, she shot back with a tone laced with laughter.

“…Was my joke a bit much?”

The voice from the phone came from behind me.

I turned my head. Simultaneously, the woman sitting behind me also turned her head.

Our gazes intertwined in mid-air.

“Hey, Merlo.”

I held the phone to my ear while playfully smiling.

The information officer from the National Security Agency’s overseas department,

Francesca Ranieri’s watcher,

And my friend.

Sophia from the National Security Agency greeted me as she hung up the phone.

“Isn’t this the first time seeing each other in Patalia?”

 

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