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Olive oil was poured onto his forehead just moments ago. Raphael sat on the holy seat set up in the Medius Cathedral.

Once under intense surveillance from intelligence agencies worldwide, the Inquisition Director, known in the public eye as the leader of the Nicene faction, became the Pope.

At the tail end of winter, a gateway to spring.

The season of new life brought fresh turmoil.

Five months had passed since then.

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Episode 15 – Life is Beautiful

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People have less interest in others than one might think.

Unless one is a close relative or an old acquaintance, there’s really no need to pay attention to others.

Moreover, people surprisingly enjoy the formalities more than one would expect.

Even if one’s heart is open, the mind remains unseen, with only the countless veins and muscles that make up the body on display. Individuals tend to focus more on what is apparent rather than diving into another’s inner feelings.

Status, educational background, profession, and so on. Such outward appearances are indeed the symbols that represent humanity. They may be rigidly formal, but aren’t they intuitive?

For those living in the bustling jungle of skyscrapers, concepts that resonate without much thought are quite invaluable.

Thus, colleagues at work always call me by that name.

“Manager.”

“What is it?”

“The documents from the branch office have arrived.”

A staff member appeared over the partition, handing me a folder. I concluded our brief encounter with a conventional response of, “Thank you. Please leave it on my desk.”

I opened the folder placed on the metal table to check the documents. It was a report sent from the information officer stationed at the embassy abroad.

White was the paper, black was the text, and the large phrase written at the top caught my eye first.

“Report on the Union People’s Party and the Independent National Alliance… An information report.”

I peeked over the partition and called out to my subordinate.

“Pippin.”

“Yes.”

“We have work. Hurry up and analyze this.”

“What kind of report is it?”

“Trends of the rebels on the Mauritania continent. It’s supplemental material related to the Union People’s Party.”

It had been five months since the coronation ceremony.

Many events occurred during that time. The biggest change was Raphael’s ascension to the papacy.

There was quite a backlash over a hardliner from the Inquisition taking the reins of the cult, but the resistance was not as strong as expected. Everyone anticipated Raphael becoming Pope since the moment Cardinal Raul, Lucia’s patron, passed away.

Experienced diplomatic officials weren’t surprised in the least. They quietly contemplated their own nations and the cult’s future while waiting for Raphael’s coronation. If such a trend was inevitable, they thought, they should at least avoid being swept away by it.

However, the situation within the intelligence agency was different.

For those with some experience, memories of the things done by the former Inquisition Director, Director Petrus, now in his second term, were still vivid. When they learned that “that guy” had been appointed Pope, chaos ensued. With a madman wielding a weapon, it was impossible to remain calm.

And the truth holds: when the higher-ups have a meltdown, it’s the subordinates who pay the price.

Thus, the last five months became a beautiful (a euphemism for frustrating) memory for me.

Even now.

As I sat in my chair tapping away on my terminal, news reached my ears.

“Manager. I overheard some people from the neighboring department talking on my way back; it seems the Inquisition caused some trouble again.”

Jake, who returned to the office, spat out the words instead of a greeting.

He was holding ice cream in one hand, while the other clutched a plastic bag. Inside the pale, semi-transparent bag were snacks he had brought from the snack bar in the Military Intelligence Agency HQ.

Jake placed the snacks down on Pippin’s desk. It was the jelly she had asked for before heading to the snack bar (the packaging read “Pops in your mouth!” and “Wiggly, wiggly worm jelly with a living texture” — some bizarre description).

That rude blonde punk, knowing full well the pecking order, laid the bag out in front of me as if to say “help yourself.”

“You punk. Taking care of your girlfriend first, huh?”

“Hey, why are you saying that? It’s not like it’s the first time.”

Jake chuckled, eating his ice cream. At this point, didn’t it mean he had gotten used to it? It was a joke we exchanged amongst ourselves in the office.

I smirked while pulling a snack out of the bag.

“So, what happened this time?”

“A warlord recruiting agent active in Kumirak was assassinated at a hotel.”

“And?”

“Well, the captured assassin is a cult believer. From an underground church.”

“What a nightmare.”

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The season of new life had arrived, but peace had not.

The new Pope championed the values of peace, unity, and love.

With the coronation just completed, he began his term promoting outwardly the values of peace, unity, and love. Many people thought, “That guy who used to ruthlessly hunt down heretics has finally calmed down now that he’s Pope.”

But that was not the case.

Raphael’s notorious temperament was unaffected by the weathering of time.

Given his position as a religious leader, one might have expected him to temper his demeanor and remain quiet for a while.

However, from day one of his term, Raphael made headlines with a shocking reshuffle, filling Inquisition Directors’ positions with hardliners, making it clear to all that he was still a complete bastard.

The results quickly manifested.

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[The Ministry of Justice of the cult announced it will restrict the use of religious facilities within its borders. Worship in places like Al-Yabd and Nirvana has ceased, while Mass at the cathedral is allowed as an exception. In response, countries on the Mauritania continent issued a statement demanding an end to religious persecution….]

[Yesterday morning, the cult authorities arrested three women on fraud charges. Despite the lack of complaints from victims, the arrest has sparked significant controversy due to their past activities in other religious organizations. A spokesperson for the Inquisition stated that these women were involved in illegal activities at their workplace…]

I confirmed that there’s a legitimate investigation into the funds embezzled and sent to a foreign religious organization…

A man surrounded by civilians hurriedly tries to escape the scene. Around midnight on the 3rd, this man, who was attacked at his front door, is a professor at Maghriya State University and is known for delivering lectures critical of the cult.

The hardliners in the Inquisition literally began to go berserk.

They were already infamous for their outrageous conduct, but recently they were rampaging like an unbridled colt.

Consequently, officials at the information agency would often mutter as they watched the Inquisition’s rampage.

“It’s all Cardinal Raphael’s fault.”

“Ugh, the manager is at it again.”

Of course, the Inquisition’s chaos had nothing to do with me.

After all, I didn’t handle the cult. Since most of the Inquisition’s blunders were related to religion, unless I was from the department covering the dominant religion Al-Yabd on the Mauritania Continent, there was no chance I’d come into conflict with the Inquisition— not even a mosquito’s tear’s worth.

In fact, I had a friendly relationship with the Inquisition. Having spent months with the Magic Tower and the Empire, alongside a colleague and Saint chosen by the Oracle, there was no reason the Inquisition would dislike me after I’d even dealt with demons in the North.

The problem was.

“Wait. But why are they passing this off on me?”

Those jerks had thrown me under the bus.

*

I lamented as I looked at the documents concerning the Mauritania Continent delivered to the office. The source of the materials was the Inquisition.

It’s outrageous that they’d push off work to other country officials while still drawing a salary from the cult. Truly, they were the very definition of tax thieves.

“Oh, how I wish I could be a salary thief too.”

At that moment, as I lamented my forever-unrealized wish, Charnoy, who had been slurping chocolate milk through a straw, placed her hands on her hips and spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Colonel Frederick is Luciano’s colleague… To find a new friend, we need to head to the Mauritania Continent, so it’s necessary to gather the local intel…!”

Right after major events like the Canonization Ceremony and the Coronation Ceremony, the cult passed on information regarding the new comrade chosen by the Oracle and Abas of the Magic Tower.

‘The new comrade is from a foreign land. This individual is presumed to be a man of sturdy build. He has been identified to be in the Mauritania Continent.’

The scant details listed were incredibly vague. It was hard to believe the information had been collected by the Inquisition over several months, but the Inquisition officials insisted this was an impressive achievement.

Unless the divine messenger directly revealed it, even the Pope couldn’t discern God’s will. Therefore, God’s words as depicted in the Oracle would inevitably seem like hazy prophecies in human eyes.

The content of the Oracle was said to be pieced together by archaeologists, clergy, theologians from different faiths, and magicians.

While they claimed to have grabbed onto that small thread of clue and gathered as much information as possible, ultimately, in plain terms, it meant they didn’t really know anything either.

The Inquisition must have been going crazy having to scour the entire world based on limited information, but their misfortunes didn’t bring me any solace.

If the Inquisition couldn’t find it, it meant we, the involved parties, had to hit the ground running to search for our comrade. And among three civilians and one spy making up our group, the task of collecting information would solely land in the lap of the spy.

With the situation as it was, the Military Intelligence Agency pulled me, who had been resting, into a new department. If I had to go to the Mauritania Continent anyway, it was probably a hint to not just lounge about at home but to prepare early.

However, this decision had a significant drawback.

The Mauritania Continent, where the comrade indicated by the Oracle existed, was a far larger continent than Africa.

And we didn’t even know which exact country our comrade resided in.

Officials from the Abas Information Authority fell into serious deliberation. The committee urged for solutions, and as the days passed, the hair of the information officers gathered in the office thinned out like a drought-stricken field.

If only one oblivious major hadn’t blurted out something like, “Can’t we just monitor the entire Mauritania Continent?” the officers would have been too busy scrambling to buy hair dye.

I remember the stifling silence that fell in the office the moment that comment was made.

The intellectuals of the information agency stared wide-eyed, and the head of the Royal Intelligence Department overseeing the Mauritania Continent gripped my hand tightly. This was the same man who had lamented that he might get killed by his wife if he returned home late since tomorrow was their wedding anniversary.

The director holding my hand even shed a tear. How could one come to such a decision? He trusted me wholly, knowing my familiarity with the rampant Inquisition and the Imperial Guard in the Mauritania Continent.

He even went so far as to add, “I never expected such a selfless individual to be in our country.”

And it was only natural.

That dumb comment had come from me.

“Damn it….”

I sighed, looking at the stack of documents piled up like a tower throughout the office.

“Oh, I want to be discharged.”

The subordinates watching me with amusement whispered, pausing their snacking.

“The manager’s talking about discharge again. Who was it that bet on it not happening today?”

“Yikes…! Charnoy’s reverse bet just failed…!”

“Quick, give it to me. I’ll buy dinner with the money I make today instead.”

Hearing their whispers, I pulled a blanket over my head and slumped down on the desk.

I can hear you, you little brats….

 

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