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On a certain day in Shizuya, where the murderous heat of 69.8°F persisted.

The thermometer displayed ‘Fahrenheit’—a measure more abhorrent than the yard-pound system that made the beards of communist-obsessed dwarves tremble. 69.8 degrees Fahrenheit (around 21°C when converted).

Why is this cursed Fahrenheit system written here instead of the proud Celsius scale, you ask?

It’s because Camila hails from England!

Just like when in Rome, one must follow Roman laws, where an English person is present, it’s only natural to implement yard-pounds and Fahrenheit, right? (Though Indians who switched to the metric system might think otherwise.)

The wizard, tracking a woman who fled with the stamina to outrun Kenyan marathon runners while carrying two little daughters, was mopping the sweat off his brow in front of a cool magic air conditioner, forcing a sheepish smile.

“Hmm. This is quite troublesome…”

Frederick had called him out, and after meandering out of the hotel, he found himself inadvertently forced into a full sprint. Hadn’t he just lost his target to the mysterious thugs who showed up out of nowhere and got himself kidnapped?

If Alexandra Petrovna, the Duke, had seen his disciple’s antics, she would surely have smashed his legs into splinters to keep him from wandering around.

Ironically, the one who got kidnapped—Camila—seemed unfazed, simply enjoying the air-conditioned breeze.

And one of her kidnappers—a woman in her mid-twenties—was bizarrely friendly, asking about her well-being.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, I see… I’m sorry. You must have been quite startled.”

The kidnapper, with an embarrassed look while scratching her head awkwardly, was none other than an information officer.

Ayla Nostrim, a rookie in the Royal Intelligence Department for about six months.

“I’m Ayla. Nice to meet you, Hero.”

“Nice to meet you too. You work for the Royal Intelligence Department?”

“Yeah, it’s been about half a year—not counting the training period.”

Normally, disclosing one’s identity to civilians is strictly forbidden for information officers, but for Camila, there was no issue at all.

She was officially registered as an information agent in the Military Intelligence Agency, and since Frederick was her handler, it was only natural that the black-haired beast’s sister could reveal her identity.

Of course, this wasn’t solely Ayla’s unilateral decision; it was a matter of company policy since a superior had first revealed her identity to Camila.

“That guy who looks like Thanos also works at the Royal Intelligence Department, right? Is he your superior?”

“I don’t know what Thanos is, but… yeah, he’s my superior for now…”

Pointing to a man resembling a Thanos without a purple tattoo and a CIA operative who shoots guns along the Mexican border, Camila’s eyes sparkled as she began to close her lips in excitement.

“Oho…”

The Sicario series, alongside the 007 films, was among her favorite movies, making the resemblance of Matt to the lead actor revive fond memories of joyful moments she had watched in the cinema.

As it turned out, the two had once casually crossed paths. Camila remembered how she had followed the Warp Gate during a visit to Abas while vacationing at the Magic Tower.

So it was particularly amusing to meet an information officer who looked so much like a star on-screen right in Ashtistan! It was only natural for her to hop around excitedly like a Chihuahua.

Everything was new and interesting, but nothing could be as novel as Ayla.

Facing ‘that infamous mate’ she had only heard about, Camila engaged in friendly chatter with Ayla.

“I’ve heard a lot about Frederick. He has a younger sister who’s a magician. Supposedly, she’s quite talented?”

“Ahaha. Did my brother say that? I doubt you heard any good stories.”

“Not at all! It sounds like a very affectionate relationship when you hear it. But how did you end up at the Royal Intelligence Department?”

“There was a job ad for a trading company in the newspaper, so I applied. Before the written exam, I got this random invitation for a casual interview at a cafe, and I was like, ‘What kind of company does that?’… Turns out it was the Royal Intelligence Department.”

“Ah—so you met with the recruiter. Usually, they do that kind of thing over the phone before the main interview, that’s interesting.”

They giggled, laughing as they discussed how Ayla ended up in an agency, what her major was, what her hobbies were, and how she had come to be there, among other things.

Everything was lively, like they were in a magical society that could rival a drug cartel.

At that moment.

“Have you contacted your brother? Wouldn’t he be worried if you disappeared without a word…?”

Ayla suddenly urged Camila to borrow her phone, insinuating her brother should at least send a message (though she never said that).

Of course, Ayla just handed over her phone without thinking about it, claiming the battery was dead, but unfortunately, the situation was less than ideal for them.

In less than three minutes of phone conversation, the seasoned information officer, with over a decade of experience, easily recognized her presence.

*Crash!*

“…Where the hell is Ayla?!”

The brother, feeling as if he were tossed into a pot of misfortune because of his sister, was in high spirits.

Here was the divine intervention.

**Side Episode – Another Peaceful Day in Ashtistan**

Frederick found the hiding safe house purely due to his will, effort, and the skills he had honed over the years.

With the lovely North Korean intelligence agents boasting about being divided for 70 years and all sorts of agents with mysterious abilities from places like China, Russia, Iran, and Syria, he had fought numerous battles in foreign lands and with foreign “friends” (not really friends) in wrestling matches, so he couldn’t fail at this.

If he couldn’t accomplish such a simple task, he would have ended up with his nose buried in the kimchi soup prepared by the supply soldiers or would have been beaten mercilessly by his seniors.

In that sense, surviving was proof of strength.

Frederick, feeling a long-lost chill and weight in his gut, picked up the ‘mental training stick’ intending to fix the mental state of his fallen junior.

“Ayla! I told you I’d kill you if you got caught!”

“KYAAAAAH…!”

“Why are you standing there?!”

“Why did you bring that stick, you crazy man…!”

As an unannounced information officer brandished a baton threateningly, the utterly startled agent fled as if her life depended on it.

Similarly, an aspiring spy also escaped with the new civil servant.

“GYAAAAAH!”

Whether she expected the stick to fly her way or developed a trauma from the baton, Camila fled without looking back.

Regardless, Frederick, thoroughly enraged, chased after Ayla, undeterred by any onlookers.

“God damn it, who made me suffer this much to come crawling here, and now this?!”

“KYAAHAH…!”

“What kind of idiot raised you to blindly borrow phones?! I can’t let you off the hook!”

Returning to the innocent and pure childhood days, Frederick began a game of tag with Ayla, reminiscent of a harsh love tap handed down by a brother.

If the elders of the Nostrim family had laid eyes on their wonderfully grown children, tears would have filled their eyes, rendering them speechless.

Or perhaps they would have crumbled to the ground in utter despair.

“Ugh! You little scoundrel.”

“AAAH….”

Just like the Stasi officers in East Germany who were assaulted and beaten when their offices were raided in 1990, the brother mustered every ounce of his fraternal love onto Ayla, whose back was beginning to sting.

“Are you a rabbit? Keep your courage somewhere safe! Who hired this silly little child? And what? You crazy man?”

“UOWABBUM!”

“Seriously, I’m going insane. What the hell…?”

Ayla had plenty to say, no, she had so much to say.

Did she want to come here? Just a week ago, she had been happily working in the peaceful Lushan Federation. Until suddenly, her superior told her to pack her bags and board a smuggling ship.

With no clue what was going on, she had squished herself onto the smuggling ship like a cargo item and endured for about two days, by which point she had become an immigrant miles from home.

In this brand-new nation, she stood in confusion, and upon following her colleagues, she ended up in Ashtistan.

“Ugh…!”

But the stretched-out cheeks made her pronunciation of ‘Hrzmlrg’ sound ridiculous, and her lips were stuck, leaving only squeaks like “UOWABBUM” (not appealing at all, but Frederick gave her a smack on the back for being gross).

What could she do about it?

She had to just accept it as her fate.

“Why did you take Camila, a perfectly fine person? Why are you even here?”

“Ah, let go of that for a second. Just a moment….”

Frederick pressured Ayla to reply quickly.

And soon enough, the answer came.

From someone else.

“Business.”

“…Matt?”

Frederick, who had lost sight of his sister’s puffy cheeks, turned his gaze back, and Matt, covering the device on the desk, greeted him.

“It’s been a while. About four months?”

“Something like that… But why are you here, Matt?”

“Well, it just turned out that way.”

“….”

The operative gestured with his thumb towards the back.

“Let’s talk for a minute.”

Before I was due for a long-term assignment and the shaving ban was imposed, I was excited at the thought of growing a beard like the foreign kids. But as soon as I started growing it, I thought I was going to go mad from the itching.

A lush beard stretching from my temples down to my jawline. Matt, rubbing his chin, twitched his eyebrows as if asking, “How do you like my beard?”

“It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m serious! Go look in a mirror.”

“It’ll be obvious.”

“Talk about self-obsession…”

Anyway, it felt nice to see a familiar face.

The chair set up in a corner of the factory was gathering dust. I brushed off the traces of time and sat down.

“Ah, this is cozy… Where did you find such a nice hideout?”

“I got it personally. I used to work in Shizuya.”

“Oh, is that right? Well then, tell me about some good places to eat while you’re here. Get rid of that one quickly and send him abroad.”

At the end of where I pointed, Ayla stood.

“Ugh— it hurts…”

“Are you alright?”

“I’ve already paid back all my borrowed money, but they keep bugging me…”

My younger sister, clutching her red cheeks, was sobbing uncontrollably, her face drenched in tears and snot.

It was absurd that a rookie information officer, who should be full of energy, was slower than a middle-aged man on the verge of his thirties. How was this even possible? It was a sight beyond my imagination.

“Huh…”

Ayla, comforted by Camila’s pats on the back, buried her face in her knees and cried her eyes out.

She was slow. Even at crying.

“What does it matter? You just have to do your job well.”

Despite my junior’s pathetic state, Matt shrugged casually. I couldn’t help but glance at him in disbelief.

“Trust me, he’s a hard worker.”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just that you haven’t seen it. He’s actually pretty sharp for a rookie and has always been in the top tier of training. Isn’t that enough for a newcomer?”

“No. What if he causes an accident or something?”

“At that time, everyone makes mistakes. It’s only natural, we should understand that.”

“Let’s see if you still say that when the operation fails because of him. And just so you know, no returns; you’re stuck with him.”

That was him telling me not to pass the buck when problems arise later. A heartwarming display of familial love (if you could call it that).

Having been hit with an avalanche of nonsense without any chance to catch my breath, Matt hesitated for a moment.

“…Is he really your brother?”

“I’ve never had a sibling like that.”

At that moment, from afar, the shout came, “I’ve never had a brother like you either!”

Matt, glancing back and forth between the two, nodded gravely!

“That’s true.”

“It’s not!”

As we exchanged light-hearted banter, wisps of pale smoke began to rise.

Matt settled onto the dust-covered chair and took a drag from the cigarette I had lent him.

The last news I heard was that the Jamria Federation was tracking down a terrorist group, said to be connected to the remnants of a rebel faction that the federal army had failed to eradicate.

As I bit down on the filter, I mumbled while striking my lighter.

“But isn’t the timing off? The atmosphere here is pretty tense right now.”

“The more chaotic it is, the more we need to be here.”

Matt’s voice sank low. It always had a heavy tone, but with smoking, it turned even more serious.

“That’s true. There’s no better time for business than when things are in disarray.”

With the Law Enforcement Corps’ weapons trade and the security committee’s wiretap incidents, the Republic of Ashtistan was facing crises both internally and externally.

While the press was popping champagne bottles, claiming we were cornered like a trapped animal, both the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Information Agency agreed that the Republic wasn’t about to fall apart just yet.

However, there were predictions that the incidents would heighten the alertness of Ashtistan’s security agencies.

“Rabdalriya had surgery and is half-disabled, but other agencies are still in decent shape. Including the Corps and the Republic’s military. The police are another story.”

I mixed the outside air with the smoke of my cigarette.

“Now that the arms trade has been exposed, they’re going to be wary of foreign companies. Was it Zuluk that was supposed to provide military support this time?”

“Free Zuluk Liberation Front. They’re armed rebels with pro-Ashtistan ties. They’re firmly getting support from Ashtistan, but royal restorationists and leftist guerillas are still uncertain.”

“Leftists?”

“The Greenskins.”

Ah. They’re talking about Orcs and Goblins.

As the term ‘leftists’ suggests, they’re the Maoists of this area dreaming of being petty bourgeois. Of course, it’s awkward to refer to them as ‘ones’ since they aren’t biologically human.

Still, they are a proper organization in their own right.

They compare the political landscape of the Mauritania Continent, running on specific major tribes, to feudalism as a target for overthrow, and define foreign companies’ agricultural investments backed by immense capital as exploitation and plundering akin to colonial empires.

If Mao Zedong had heard this, he’d probably pop out of Tiananmen Square’s portrait and yell, “What kind of nonsense is this?” but who cares.

To begin with, Maoism itself is a slightly diverted ideology from orthodox communism and socialism, right? (Russia’s criticism of China for being a heresy was also due to this. Of course, China returned the favor by calling the USSR revisionists, but still.)

“Phew…”

I found myself lost in thought, wiping away the ash when Matt raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if maybe I could play around with some ideologies here.”

“Ideologies? Which ones?”

“Well, there’s this thing called Juche…”

I didn’t know if it was inspired by North Korean agents preaching NK-Christianity to the isolated Third World residents (even though they use the internet). Anyway.

The idea of spreading the horrifying hybrid of socialism and Christianity called ‘Juche’ in this area was a joke that even Frederick’s grandfather, an operations agent for the Royal Intelligence Department, or his father, a North Korea operative, couldn’t bear to hear with open eyes.

Of course, if it had been possible, they would have long removed the grandson/son who was bringing home not just three wives but even switching nationality on top of that!

With three generations serving in intelligence, and the father being a senior information officer, they wouldn’t hesitate to strip that brat down for tarnishing their family name.

What could I expect from a kid like him who had already swapped his nationality for something tastier than cheese pizza?

I could only keep my fingers crossed and hope for the future success of his career.

“…Anyway. I’ll mind my own business, so I’ll cover the first verse.”

Smack, licking my lips, I pivoted the topic.

It was time to get to the main point.

“What’s your business in Shizuya?”

“…….”

“And how did Camila end up here?”

Matt observed the hideout. To be precise, he was watching the person.

The safe house was desolate, like a dry desert. The exterior looked rusted and stained as if it were a half-built structure, and inside, only bare concrete loomed, adding to the gloom. Leaning against a pillar that seemed to radiate a chilly aura, he scanned the scene with a low gaze.

The two remained silent, aware of the glaring light.

“…….”

While Matt surveyed the faces of the intelligence officers, Frederick stubbornly refused to turn away. When people whispering in a secluded area suddenly all look the same way, it raises too many red flags.

Instead, he found a piece of glass abandoned in one corner of the factory, allowing him to see the reflections of objects.

“I’m looking for someone.”

After a prolonged silence, Matt casually shifted his gaze, pretending to dust off ash, and began.

“Someone?”

“More accurately, I’m looking for a mole.”

“…….”

His expression hardened instantly.

“Which side?”

“Our side.”

“Has the inspection lost track?”

“They missed it.”

It seemed there had been a double agent discovered at the Royal Intelligence Department. That they’d slipped past the inspection and fled overseas was just the icing on the cake.

This was a massive problem.

“Shit, this is bad. So did you come here because of him?”

“Exactly.”

A sigh escaped me involuntarily.

What impeccable timing. Of all the times to come, it had to be during a chaotic moment.

“About a week ago, there was a crackdown on suspicious communications. An retired diplomat was chatting with someone from the Empire, leaking confidential info. The contact was a woman he met during his time in the embassy, and headquarters suspected it was honey trapping.”

The flame flickered briefly, and the operations officer of the Royal Intelligence Department lowered his voice.

“But there was mention of the Magic Tower project in the communication. Something about personnel development and a few other things.”

“Wasn’t the project information supposed to be known only to the companies? I thought the Foreign Affairs and Finance departments were only given a glimpse of the blueprints.”

“The ministers probably know that the companies are attempting to take down the Oracle.”

“The bureau directors don’t know?”

“If the ministers don’t have the details, how would the bureau directors know? Even within the company, how many people do you think are aware of that?”

“That’s true.”

“The problem is that all the people who can access the documents are high-ranking officials. And from those officials, someone leaked the business materials.”

“…….”

“But this guy fled in quite a hurry. He was actively involved, and just when he was about to get exposed because of some contact, he legged it.”

The double agent, hired to evade pursuit, had panicked and fled overseas when the contact he’d hired got caught, fearing that his identity would be revealed.

They’re sharp. This is why I hate those who are quick on the uptake.

Alright. I roughly grasp the ongoing situation.

“…Hmm. If he fled in a hurry, there should be traces left behind. He wouldn’t have had the time to erase them. Did he manage to take his retirement benefits with him?”

“I started looking into employees who took biometric data out on the day he was caught, and a few suspicious individuals surfaced.”

“He even managed to take his severance pay with him in this chaos.”

For crying out loud.

As I swept my hair back and mumbled, I suddenly got a jolt of reprimand that I shouldn’t be worrying about others right now.

“You’d better not lose your cool so soon.”

“Why? Do I know this person?”

“The last thing he was trying to grab was your retirement fund. The management officials are going to appraise your worth more than anyone else.”

“…? Which idiots would be making passes at me?”

The operations officer of the Royal Intelligence Department answered in an endlessly cavalier tone.

“The Kien Empire.”

At that moment.

A thunderous voice struck my ears, and an immense shock began coursing through my brain, spine, and pelvis.

It felt like being hit on the head with an 18-inch hammer!

“What the hell?!”

Soon, at nearly thirty years old, I could only jump from my seat and scream!

 

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