---

The subway network in Abbas struggles to reach the vicinity of a desolate factory complex that has collapsed completely.

Protests by development groups advocating for the demolition of the abandoned factory sites to replace them with housing continue on a daily basis, citing the poor living conditions that are grossly inadequate for accommodating all citizens. However, the lackluster response from the Ministry of Land and local governments has resulted in these abandoned factories being neglected for years.

The eerie and unsightly ruins of the factories exude a grim atmosphere.

I approached the site for a meeting with my colleagues.

“I’m late,” I admitted.

“Sorry, Matt. Traffic was a bit heavy.”

The middle-aged information officer, resembling Thanos, welcomed me as I entered the dilapidated factory.

“You should jump at the chance when called. Your salary isn’t free, you know?”

“I know. Have our kids arrived yet?”

“Not yet. No contact has been made.”

“What about your team members?”

Thanos nodded towards the interior of the factory, indicating that everyone was already inside.

“Come on in. Let’s talk inside.”

—

**Episode 15 – Life is Beautiful**

I entered the office set up within the factory alongside him. And at that moment, I came across a familiar face.

A middle-aged man dressed in a splendid tailored suit, sporting horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose—a quintessential image of a British gentleman—was the sub-team leader of the operations team.

He was darting between desks with an espresso cup in hand, and he recognized me.

“Oh, you’ve arrived.”

The sub-team leader greeted me warmly.

I bowed my head in return, acknowledging him.

“Long time no see, Steven. Or should I call you Bill?”

The sub-team leader smiled broadly.

“Call me whatever feels comfortable.”

Looking back, my first encounter with the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team was before the department store terror incident, when they had come to Abbas.

At the time, I thought they were just keeping watch for safety reasons, considering it would be a fleeting acquaintance.

But my intertwining fate with the middle-aged Thanos look-alike didn’t end there.

I found myself embroiled again with the Royal Intelligence Department during a kidnapping operation in Patalia, and later in the northern operations of the Empire, where we eliminated several dark magicians.

There was one fun fact I discovered during that process.

The names introduced by the operations team members so far were all aliases, not their real names.

“Couldn’t you have picked a more sophisticated alias, Bill? ‘Steven’? What kind of name is Steven?”

Alias Steven. Real name Bill.

The sub-team leader of the Royal Intelligence Department chuckled lightly and began to jest.

“Hey, that name isn’t mine to choose. It was Matt who came up with it, right, Matt?”

“Why? You said it was fine. If you have an issue, propose another name.”

“Everyone knows your naming skills are terrible. No amount of pondering would have yielded a better name!”

Matt, the team leader of the Royal Intelligence Department, shrugged as if to say, “So what?”

Just for reference, Matt is the real name of the Thanos look-alike, and the alias Matthew was self-given. Apparently, the team leader was the one who came up with the aliases for the other team members as well.

Sub-team leader Bill chuckled, pointing his espresso cup at Matt.

“See? Our team leader’s naming sense is as disastrous as the food culture of the Cult. Plus, he’s so stubborn—stronger in opinion than even the men from the Kien Empire. The dwarves, famously proud, would bow to him in that regard.”

It was a joke comparing the horrible food the cult’s clerics eat and the stubbornness of Kien Empire men.

Matt, who was singled out as the subject of the joke, protested vehemently against the malicious slander.

“Stop with the nonsense, Bill. What’s wrong with ‘Steven’? It suits you—looking like a nerd and all.”

“If Steve heard that, he would probably curse you out first.”

“Let him! I’ll see him on the field soon enough, so just wait!”

“Shall we make a bet?”

“I’m in.”

Sub-team leader Bill swiped his card on the factory’s metal door.

Thud. The heavy door began to move, and the sound of metal clanging echoed. I waited in front of the door for it to open while throwing a question at Matt and Bill.

“So, where’s the new colleague you mentioned? Did anything come up?”

Matt replied, “Take a look for yourself.”

—

After waiting a bit in the office, a document was delivered.

The person handed it to me was Larry, the senior analyst of the Royal Intelligence Department, who had provided information to the field team in all previous operations.

“Long time no see. Here’s the material you requested.”

“Thanks.”

“Pay attention while you read. I’ll explain. Ahem….”

Flipping the pages smoothly, Larry, sensing that the team leader Matt and the sub-team leader Bill, along with myself, had gathered, tapped his staff and began the briefing.

“About five months ago, an Inquisition officer made contact with one of our company’s executives.”

It was a request for assistance in locating the companions of the chosen hero as dictated by the Oracle.

The region was the Mauritania Continent.

“It was a massive operation to search the entire continent, too overwhelming for the Inquisition to tackle alone. Thus, our friends from the cult reached out for cooperation from companies worldwide, including the Royal Intelligence Department, the National Security Agency, the Imperial Guard Headquarters, and the Total Intelligence Agency of the Lushan Federation, as well as information agencies from the Mauritania Continent and the East….”

Larry continued explaining.

“Of course, since each company had different positions, not everyone agreed to cooperate.”

“Everyone has different issues to focus on.”

“With battles breaking out right at the border, it was hard to pour efforts into observing a distant continent. Especially for Eastern companies confronting the elves from the Great Oak.”

Anyway, this wasn’t something particularly crucial, so let’s move on.

Larry caught everyone’s attention by calling out a specific number, instructing us to turn the page. He then began explaining with a serious expression.

“About three weeks back, the Total Intelligence Agency found vital intel that could help ascertain the whereabouts of your companion.”

“In the Lushan Federation?”

“Right. See that man in the photo? He was the Total Intelligence Agency officer who contacted the Inquisition three weeks ago. He’s the one who shared the intel with them.”

He tapped the photo of the man with his unrefined fingernails. Before him was a nun clad in her habit, occupying a corner of the café.

As I carefully inspected the photograph, Matt and Bill exchanged glances toward Larry.

“Larry.”

“Yeah, Matt?”

“Why wouldn’t you just attach a photo of the main page if you needed image materials? Why include a scene of a meeting—an almost unrecognizable photo?”

“Hah. You don’t know, do you?”

Larry grinned and adjusted his glasses.

“Because obviously, that’s the best angle for the picture!”

“What angle?”

Bill turned the photo around, inspecting it from various sides.

“All I can see is the nun’s backside.”

“That’s precisely the point, Bill.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sub-team leader Bill covered his face with his palm, a gesture of dismay as if he couldn’t bear to witness. Team leader Matt even muttered a soft curse.

“If the nun’s habit is the perfect creation of religion, then the garter belt is the marvelous invention of science! Look here! The thighs pressed slightly….”

“Oh my God, Larry! That’s blasphemy.”

“But beautiful.”

Matt pointed a finger at Larry, who was bickering with Bill.

“I’m genuinely relieved you don’t attend church.”

“Such a tragic reality.”

As I watched this spectacle, I could only shake my head in disbelief. Internally, I mused that having eccentrics in the intelligence agency was just as common here.

They must have gone through personality checks before selecting talent, so why do these weirdos keep popping up? Could it be that they lost their minds from working?

Considering they ended up in a black company (a joking term for an intelligence agency) with the specs for entering a major corporation, they were never normal to begin with.

“Anyway!”

Returning to the main topic after extolling the merits of the garter belt, Larry resumed.

“Our analysis team has used that intel to select search areas. Over the past three weeks, we’ve identified four potential areas where your companion might be.”

“I know where they are.”

“Great. Seems you’ve studied up.”

With a tap of his staff, Larry approached, handing us the paper. While rattling off the basic material about the nations and areas, he immediately dived into the core of the matter.

“The Total Intelligence Agency shared intel about a ‘mystery’ that occurred on the Mauritania Continent with the Inquisition. A shepherd reported witnessing a pillar of cloud, a river divided into two, and a bird sculpted from mud flying in the skies….”

“Did those mysteries assist in locating the companion?”

“A little. It was better than having nothing at all.”

He glanced at a map that adorned one of the pages of the document.

The map was dotted with numerous points; some regions had only one or two marked, while others resembled a galaxy, overwhelmed with dots.

Larry swept his hand over the entire map.

“This shows where the mysteries occurred on the Mauritania Continent.”

The period for the data collection was about a year.

Since Camila came here last summer, it seems the occurrences had been filtered specifically from that time forward.

“Mysterious phenomena, usually rare in life, have sprang up in droves around specific areas, leading us to suspect your companion resides around here.”

“In the end, doesn’t that mean you still have no proper location pinpointed?”

“Technically, yes. But since these mysteries appeared from the time the Oracle’s divination was cast, isn’t it worth investigating? Mysteries aren’t fields that can be explained solely by science or magic, especially not by theology.”

Larry pulled a chair closer with some effort, leaning into his staff for support as he struggled to sit down.

Having adjusted his ample backside uncomfortably, he spotted the box of donuts on the desk, gasping in awe as he hastily pulled one out to take a bite.

He munched on a sugar-coated donut halfway through and pointed to the documents with the thick cream donut.

“Anyway, these areas are currently strong candidates. The Intelligence Agency estimates that your colleagues are in the regions where the anomalies have occurred. Same for the Inquisition.”

While Larry devoured his donut, Bill, who had just set down his espresso cup, paused while pulling out a donut from the box to ask.

“What do you think, Larry? Do you really think it’s worth searching?”

“There’s no harm in exploring those areas. It’s better than sitting in the office reading reports sent from the embassy and color-coding maps. Wouldn’t it be good to go and see for ourselves?”

“Any other intel? It’s fine to narrow down the search to four areas, but it’s unreasonable to conduct a search based just on the information given by the Inquisition.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, I have some good data.”

With a donut in his mouth, Larry rattled off a number. Page 481. As he flipped through the documents, a montage appeared.

It illustrated a peculiar design, extending from the wrist all the way to the shoulder, like…

“…a tattoo?”

It was indeed a tattoo. When I inserted the paper between my fingers and muttered to myself, Larry nodded, signaling his agreement.

“Right. This is a montage secured by the Intelligence Agency, and over there, they suspect that the man with this tattoo is one of your colleagues.”

“Tattoo? Why? I mean, does flexing those muscles cause the tattoo to glow or something?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I’ve heard that the tattoo has glowed before.”

“…Huh?”

A glowing tattoo?

“What do you mean? Tattoos can glow?”

“Literally glowing. An agent from the Intelligence Agency investigating the anomaly in that region testified that he saw it firsthand. What was it said…? The light flowed from the tattoo, and something powerful shook the ground?”

“Was there no other information besides the glowing tattoo?”

“They said he punched a monster to death with his bare fists. While the details written in the material sent by the Inquisition regarding your colleague don’t include that, other attributes seem to line up.”

“It’s a bit hasty to conclude he’s your colleague based solely on that…”

“Then what should we do? How many ‘burly men’ do you think there are across the Mauritania Continent? When are we ever going to find them all?”

But this person might not be my colleague. When I expressed this doubt, the senior analyst looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

“Do you really think a new colleague you don’t even know where he lives is just an ordinary healthy guy? What do you think the odds are? Look at this dude. He’s big, a man, and living on the Mauritania Continent. Plus, he’s got strange abilities.”

“Hmm…”

“Let me flip the question. What are the chances that such a guy is not your colleague?”

Now that I think about it, that makes sense.

Camila’s companions were all formidable talents. Lucia could treat hundreds of patients in a day, and Francesca was an unmatched magician from the Magic Tower.

Simply judging pure combat prowess without considering backgrounds, those two would hold their own against anyone—abilities likened to cutting off a demon’s head.

So, from that perspective, a big man sporting a glowing tattoo with special powers would likely be a colleague.

It wouldn’t be too odd to randomly select an incompetent spy as a colleague only to have a tattoo-wielding wizard show up instead, right?

“……”

Just as I was deep in thought, Bill presented a donut right in front of me.

“Here, have a donut.”

“Oh, thank you.”

I accepted the donut from Bill, and Matt split his donut in half.

As I stuffed the appetizing donut in my mouth, I looked at Larry.

“So basically, the big guy with the tattoo appeared in the area marked on the map? In the region where the anomaly occurred?”

“Yeah. We can’t know the exact correlation, but it’s true that a man with strange powers appeared at the site of the anomaly. He also fits the criteria outlined by the Inquisition.”

“But what if we search all four areas and find no leads? What if this man wasn’t even a colleague?”

That was a reasonable question.

Larry, adjusting his glasses with greasy fingers, flashed a grin that revealed his teeth.

“Well, then we’d have to go back to square one and start all over. But that’s not the important part.”

The senior analyst jumped up and began rummaging through his desk. He started muttering as he cleared away various pens and documents.

“The Mauritania Continent has always been notorious for disputes. Warlord battles, tribal conflicts, civil wars between the government army and rebels, and so on. However, there are a few places particularly known for their intense fighting, right?”

“True.”

“Yet miraculously, all four areas presumed to be the location of the Hero’s new colleague are places embroiled in severe conflict.”

The senior analyst’s explanation didn’t stop there. He summarized the plethora of information he had listed.

All four regions, presumed to be where my new colleague resides, are caught up in conflict.

One of those areas is in a state of diplomatic stagnation without an embassy.

Instead, the embassy is operating from another country bordering it.

And most importantly,

“Someone has to go there to collect information directly.”

Eventually, he returned with a hefty binder boasting hundreds of pages.

With a thump, he dropped the binder on the desk while Larry leaned on it at an angle.

I tossed the documents onto the desk and spoke up.

“Doesn’t seem that hard.”

“Doesn’t seem hard? Do you think this person has nine lives or something? That place is way too dangerous.”

If this goes on, I’ll be caught between the Chief of Staff and the Minister of Defense. I’ll have to see a four-star general sauntering out after finishing his morning prep when I wake up, and in the evening spot the Defense Minister taking a stroll near the residence with a bunch of bodyguards every day.

Facing that suffocating sight, I’d rather fly overseas a hundred times over.

“I could just go quietly by myself.”

“Go solo? The office probably won’t grant permission for that…. Why not go with your colleagues instead?”

I shook my head.

How can I take the kids into a place like that?

“Why do you want to go to such a neighborhood?”

“It’s a place I have to go anyway.”

What difference does it make to get there a few months early?

What I needed right now was a good excuse to escape from Abas.

“And there’s a saying, you know. People move with crises and opportunities.”

Matt asked me.

“Quite the motto. Who said that?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure.”

I trailed off ambiguously.

“I can’t remember who said it.”

*

Anyway, now that the list of candidates has narrowed, all that’s left is the manual work.

On the surface, the work in the intelligence agency might look prestigious, sitting in an office sipping tea and chatting, but once you actually dive in, whether in the office or the field, it’s a tiresome grind of rolling about and getting banged up, a nonstop cycle of boredom.

In that sense, watching over the four areas presumed to harbor Camila’s colleagues would be one colossal labor.

No kidding, it truly would be.

It’s already tough establishing an information network, but building one in a civil war zone? Just to find one person whose name and face you don’t even know?

That’s like trying to find Mr. Kim in Seoul.

But I had a plan too.

-‘Hello, Colonel. Long time no see. What brings you to contact me?’

“Oh, Francesca. You’re still awake, I see.”

-‘It’s daytime in Patalia right now. You should’ve been asleep ages ago.’

“Oh, my bad…. Please pretend I didn’t say anything.”

-‘Should I? By the way, what’s the sudden reason for contacting me today, Colonel?’

“I was wondering if you could pass a message to Victor.”

Jammer-Victor.

A former warrant officer in the Kien Empire’s Ministry of Defense. Now a broker dealing in illegal arms.

Also, my informant.

“Tell him I’ll see him back home soon.”

-‘Is that all you want me to say?’

“Yeah. He’ll understand what that means.”

I decided to plunge directly into that laborious task.

The goal was to build a local information network and gather detailed information about the man presumed to be my colleague.

Just checking out what he looks like, what his name is, how many family members he has, and where he lives before getting out should suffice. While I’m at it, I might as well snag those bad guys the company pointed out.

A truly perfect plan.

“Not happening.”

“…What?”

In the overseas office’s chief’s office, I blinked in disbelief at the absurd words that came out.

“Didn’t you hear? I said I can’t grant permission for the business trip.”

Until I get slapped down, that is.

 

---