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Despite all the voices demanding suspicion and clarification, the information agency rarely takes the initiative to uncover the truth.

The moment information is disclosed, spies rush in like a pack of wolves to snatch away the secrets.

Thus, the information agency neither makes excuses nor boasts.

Even if they are cursed as arrogant little brats, operations must continue.

In state intelligence studies, this act is defined as “plausible deniability.”

But,

“Hey, Frederick. Can I ask you something?”

“What is it, Director Leoni?”

“I heard the hero slipped away to the Mauritania Continent. Did you know about this?”

“I didn’t have a clue.”

It’s not like companies are restricted to using “plausible deniability.”

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Amid the news of Camila’s sudden departure, the relevant authorities convened a meeting.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which first obtained the information through a diplomat, and the Royal Intelligence Department, which has overseas intelligence lines.

At first glance, this incident seemed unrelated to the Military Intelligence Agency responsible for military intelligence, but the reality was cruel indeed.

“The chief is entering!”

“Hey! Duty officer. Where is the director right now?”

“The director is running a bit late. I think he can make it before the meeting starts….”

The calm of a Sunday morning was shattered by the sudden appearance of duty personnel sprinting down the hallway and high-ranking intelligence officers furiously pressing the elevator buttons.

It was because Camila had executed a sudden flight to the Mauritania Continent.

“Situation Room Chief.”

“Yes!”

“Contact the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Royal Intelligence Department. And connect me to the Kien Embassy immediately, quickly.”

Issues like Camila’s departure were normally monitored by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, handled with daily reports. That was true when she first went to the Magic Tower or when she secretly entered Abas as well.

But now, the situation was different.

First off, the fact that Camila’s destination was a country engulfed in civil war was problematic. Traditionally, conflict zones have a stronger influence from intelligence agencies than the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, so most issues tied to such regions are dealt with by the information agency.

However, ‘coincidentally,’ Camila entered a country in civil war, and the information agency only grasped the situation after receiving official documents from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Moreover, the task of gathering information on Camila fell under the jurisdiction of the Military Intelligence Agency, to which some of their colleagues belonged.

That was precisely why staff from the related departments were called in on a Sunday morning.

“Why is there a departure at this hour…. What was the governor doing?”

“What could he have done? He didn’t know until it got to the ambassador’s ears. He must have left early and went to sleep.”

“What’s going on on a Sunday? Why not depart on Monday instead….”

“By the way, where is Colonel Nostrim? Did he not know either?”

“I don’t know. But the office lights were off?”

*

A type of feudal state known as the Lushan Federal Kingdom. At a solitary house in some unfamiliar region.

I faced familiar faces there.

“Long time no see, Matt.”

Dressed in a summer shirt and jeans, the middle-aged man, looking like a local, flicked his cigarette with his finger.

“You arrived early.”

“I came via the Warp Gate.”

He nodded pleasantly.

“Did you bring your stuff?”

“A bit. Just the things I can use right away.”

As I pulled my luggage from the trunk, a staff member sitting in the driver’s seat took the vehicle back to the garage. I followed Matt, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Inside the safe house, a small group of operations team members huddled together. The team of six information officers, led by Team Leader Matt, was the main cast.

I carefully scanned the accommodation and hesitantly spoke up.

“Is Bill still back in the homeland?”

“Of course. He’s part of the advance team.”

With the arrival of the two men, the inside of the accommodations became bustling; amidst the softly glowing electronic equipment, a beastman poked his head out and howled.

“Meow.”

What’s going on?

Just as I was momentarily bewildered while setting down my luggage, Matt, who was spraying a disinfectant at the entrance, began to unleash expletives.

“Kair. Damn furry pest. How many times do I have to tell you not to crawl around the equipment?”

He scolded the team member with a mix of curses, saying things like it’s easy for fur to break the equipment, and he had even provided a box, so what more was there to complain about?

Kair, the team member and Cat Beastman, glared at Team Leader Matt with discontent and left the room.

“Meow….”

The spot where the beastman had been was soon swarmed by team members working the devices. They skillfully rolled out the lint roller for beastman fur, cleaning the floor and equipment.

As the delicate cries of the displaced beastman echoed, Matt called out to me, rummaging through a drawer.

“Come here.”

Amid Camila’s sudden departure leading to departmental fumbles, Leoni approved my overseas business trip.

The destination was a certain country on the Mauritania Continent. A civil war zone teeming with warlords, fierce political strife, and conflict.

The sole objective?

Camila’s safety.

While there might be additional goals, the primary reason for the dispatch was Camila’s safety. If she were to get killed in a war-torn region, it would jeopardize all operations.

No matter the war zone, finding a single civilian who entered from abroad should not be too challenging. It is the job of the information agency to track down spies disguised as civilians escaping to foreign lands.

Finding someone is a fundamental task of an information agency, and a company that cannot do that is unworthy of the name.

Of course, if a spy thoroughly conceals their identity with the intent to deceive, it can be difficult to locate them, but even with proper preparations, you’re bound to step on some tails a few times.

Thus, locating Camila, who isn’t even an information agency agent, shouldn’t be that hard.

However, preparation was necessary.

“Let’s see… You must have packed your underwear and clothes, so is there anything else you need?”

“No. Just give me what you’ve got.”

“Here.”

He handed me an identification card.

“I’ve been instructed not to use the passport that was used to enter Lushan. So make sure to use this passport at the destination.”

The fake identification bore the name of a citizen from the unfamiliar Lushan Federal Kingdom. The photo was my verification photo from years ago, while the rest of the information was replaced with that of a third country citizen.

Matt said,

“This is a clean passport. It’s a new ID created by the company.”

“It seems a bit worn for new. The issue date is four years ago.”

“Electronics and magical tools are best when they’re brand new, but for IDs, the newer they are, the less value they hold. The department struggled to scratch it up a bit, but you can rest easy.”

The support department that processed the order had just made the hot-off-the-press item. So, the issue date on the ID, the scratches, blurry spots, and even the weathered magical certification emblem were all made up.

It was such elaborate technology that even the anti-counterfeiting magical markings had been fabricated, but it wasn’t exactly a major feat.

The critical part is how to effectively utilize the false identity.

That aspect distinguishes a second-rate intelligence agency from a top-tier one.

I disposed of the identification I had and took the one handed to me by Matt.

“Now, let’s discuss business.”

Matt simply smiled without saying a word.

From the equipment, azure magic surfaced, conjuring a bluish silhouette in the air.

As he shoved his hands into his pockets and dragged his indoor slippers while waving at the floating image, I packed my travel bag and lit a cigarette.

Then, a moment later.

“Alright.”

The operations team leader, who had identified the map and a few familiar faces, calmly began to speak.

“Where do you plan to go first?”

If you’ve spent some time in the overseas sector, the moment you hear the three-syllable word ‘illegal immigration,’ chills run down your spine.

The nation’s advanced computer network, capable of recording the identities of foreigners residing within our borders, is a blessing for investigative agencies but a disaster for intelligence agencies.

No information agency would be pleased knowing that the identities of their officers visiting hostile nations are stored directly in the enemy’s database. To make matters worse, counter-intelligence agencies are notorious for never deleting recorded data, no matter what.

Thus, for an information officer, illegal immigration is a rite of passage that one must experience at least once in their life.

Especially for employees executing ‘sketchy operations.’

My situation was no different.

Having escaped from my single-family home, I boarded a cargo ship owned by a third-party maritime company, sailing from the Lushan Federal Kingdom.

The shipping company had no ties to any intelligence agency, but the captain was well-acquainted with under-the-table dealings. The primary goods he dealt with were smuggled items. To be precise, people.

Just like how people worldwide once fixated on the ‘American Dream’ to lead prosperous lives in the U.S.

Here in this neighborhood, people dream of a second life in the Kingdom of Abas, the Republic of Patalia, or the Kien Empire.

But how easy is it to get a work visa? Those who struggle to enter legally typically opt for the illegal route, evading the watchful eyes of the Ministry of Justice.

A common means of doing so is through ships.

This method was familiar to me as well.

I had employed it to smuggle Abas intelligence officers through the Magic Tower and favored it when hiding out in Russia. It wasn’t uncommon for me to sneak aboard long-distance fishing vessels, slipping past the crew with a little backhand under the table, wandering around the Arctic Ocean and the Sea of Okhotsk.

Today was no different for the ship I boarded.

The captain used his ship, traversing between continents, as a means to make money, while some of the company’s executives turned a blind eye to his side hustle. Transporting refugees back and forth across the Mauritania Continent turned out to be quite profitable.

Thanks to this, there were no significant challenges in bribing the captain.

When I paid the smuggling fee in line with market prices, he guided me to a cabin without asking any further questions.

Of course,

The captain’s nonchalant acceptance of a stranger was made possible due to a reliable broker’s introduction.

“Did you board the ship safely, Colonel?”

“The captain’s a drunk since morning, and aside from the cabin being a tad stuffy, there are no other issues.”

“Still, try not to view him too negatively. He may seem like a slacker, but he’s been a reliable business partner for quite a while.”

Francesca, the broker who secured my safe passage, defended the captain with her soft voice.

This operation focuses on ensuring Camila’s safety.

The problem is that I needed to enter a war-torn region as a civilian to avoid unnecessary diplomatic friction.

Leoni promised that I wouldn’t be held responsible for any issues arising from this process. In other words, the company wouldn’t provide direct assistance, leaving me to handle problems on my own.

In exchange, I received generous operational funds. After all, nothing beats money when it comes to solving problems.

Fortunately, this part didn’t pose significant issues.

Espionage in the Third World had been my forte since my days in military intelligence, and I had agents ready to assist me at any time.

“…….”

I’ve experienced illegal immigration so often that I’m absolutely tired of it, but the horizon seen from the deck of a ship slicing through the waves is always special.

I expressed my gratitude to the long-range communication magic fragment.

“Thank you for arranging the transport.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

Unable to rely on the company’s support, I couldn’t use the Military Intelligence Agency’s information network either, but Francesca had influence in the Mauritania Continent as well.

Through her underground connections, she provided me with convenience.

Of course, the sole reason I involved her in this was that she could arrange illegal transport to the Mauritania Continent.

“If you’re grateful, you should send the items I asked you to give to the Hero when you get a chance.”

Francesca naturally brought up Camila.

“The Hero will return soon, but you probably won’t have the luxury of picking up souvenirs.”

“It sounds like Camila will return to the Empire soon.”

“That’s what we agreed on from the start. The Hero didn’t exactly choose to venture to the Mauritania Continent of their own accord, did they?”

That was right.

In truth, Camila didn’t enter the Mauritania Continent alone without discussing it with us. To be precise, she went there on my request.

She had no alibi for needing to go on an overseas assignment.

Thus, we pre-arranged to regroup once in the area, coordinate our stories, and then scatter like leaves in the wind. I would head to the field, while Camila would return to the Empire.

Considering the time it would take to smuggle aboard the ship and ‘act’ as if I were searching for her, it would probably take about three to four days. So I had warned her to enjoy herself in the meantime.

Of course, I reminded her to stick only to safe areas.

So this entire situation was practically a surprise show I organized. If the company found out, an investigation would surely follow, but as long as I didn’t get caught, I wouldn’t face punishment.

Francesca was one of the few who knew the real story behind this whole affair.

By the way, the other person in the know was Lucia.

“I’ve conveyed the message to Mr. Victor. He said you could contact him whenever it’s convenient for you.”

“Got it.”

“And if you happen to meet him locally, please send my regards.”

Of course.

After ending the call,

I entered the cabin and finished organizing my belongings.

Since I had rushed out, I had only brought a few clothes, toiletries, and a small amount of food, making my luggage rather sparse. Barely a few outfits, underwear, toothbrush, and some supplies.

Everything else needed to be bought on-site.

Personal firearms, vehicles, accommodation, clothing, even socks and underwear—all of it.

“Accommodation costs, vehicle rental fees, intelligence expenses, bribing civil servants, eating out, buying clothes….”

Ugh, a deep sigh escaped me. Here we go again, burnt through a heap of cash.

Of course, since it wouldn’t be out of my own pocket but from the company budget, there’s no burden, but getting activity funds as a civilian requires troublesome procedures. Besides, having excess funds is always better.

Sitting on the cabin, I looked out the window while adjusting my budget.

Heavily armored, the ship cut through the frothy waves, heading towards the red continent.

Far off, towards the Mauritania Continent.

The sea exhaled roughly, dragging its blue scales behind.

The sun hanging over the horizon painted everything red as it dipped.

Disasters always arrive without warning.

“What… did you say?”

The Mauritania Continent. The capital of a nation embroiled in civil war.

I bumped into Camila in the hotel lobby, just blocks away from the Kien Empire’s embassy, and she screeched.

“I don’t want to go back!”

“…….”

“Hey, hurry and take me with you!”

I thought to myself.

Damn it.

“…I hope you aren’t British or something.”

Damn imperialist!

 

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