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“Night is quiet.”

The cold wave of December. A mid-winter night. The air blowing in from the East Sea is particularly chilly. I exhaled a white breath, closed the window, and returned to my seat.

“Hey, hey, have you checked the temperature in the dormitory?”

“Yeah. I just checked the dorm temperature a little while ago.”

The sound of fingers tapping on the keyboard continued.

“And the patients?”

“There are none.”

“Oh really? I saw it while I was coming in; the bathroom was a bit dirty.”

“……”

“Did you check?”

Knock. Knock.

The orderly knock interrupted the conversation. I paused my words and told them to come in, and after a brief moment, the door opened.

Seeing the face of the person who entered, I stood up.

“Supply Officer.”

It’s the Colonel.

“What brings you here at the duty room? I thought you got off work earlier. Did something happen?”

“Oh, not at all. I just came in to take a personal call.”

“Personal call?”

“Yeah.”

The supply officer came to the duty room looking just like any other day. However, considering it was deep into the night and he had someone trailing behind him, a sense of unease crept in. Moreover, the supply officer’s expression was somewhat grim.

“By the way, Squad Leader, there’s someone looking for you.”

“For me? Who the heck…?”

At that moment, a person standing behind the supply officer burst into the duty room.

“Wow, long time no see!”

The uninvited guest, barging into the duty room, suddenly raised his voice. The middle-aged man, dressed not in military uniform but a suit, looked odd, but I couldn’t say anything to him.

Recognizing the Suit Man left me dumbfounded. The Suit Man strode over and hugged me tightly.

“Man, how long has it been? You’ve grown up a lot!”

“Uh, uh…?”

“Can you smell the sea? Wow, are you guys still wearing frog ears? The front-line kids are getting digital now. Haha.”

As the duty soldier opened his eyes wide in disbelief at the sudden shift in situation, the Suit Man turned his head.

“Wait a minute… Myungwoo, can I use the duty room for a bit? I want to catch up with my nephew.”

“Yes, Senior. I’ll clear out.”

“Thanks, man. I dropped by unexpectedly late. We should grab a meal together sometime.”

“Sure.”

The supply officer nodded respectfully and left with the duty soldier. The duty soldier, abruptly kicked out, looked at me with a puzzled expression, but I had no answers to offer either.

Just the two of us remained in the duty room. I stood there in dumbfounded silence.

In the meantime, the Suit Man chuckled and took a seat in the chair in the duty room.

“Sit down! Why are you standing there like a rock? You’ll hurt your legs.”

At that, I snapped out of my daze and asked him.

The unexpected visitor in the duty room was not a stranger.

In fact, he was someone I knew quite well.

A friend of my father. A military friend.

“Um… Senior? What brought you to this place?”

“Hey, why are you talking so formally when we haven’t seen each other in ages? Just relax. Call me uncle like the old days.”

My uncle, thrilled at our reunion, kept smiling, and I, still a little confused, sat down across from him.

I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly and asked him.

“But Uncle, how did you find me here? I don’t think I’ve told you since I made my commission… And you don’t keep in touch often.”

“Well, I was in the area for something at headquarters. Thought of you, so I stopped by.”

“Headquarters? Weren’t you retired? I thought you found a job after retirement.”

“Retired? No way, I’m still on duty.”

“Oh, I see… Which unit are you in?”

“I’m just working somewhere in the capital area.”

Slurp. As warm coffee went down, it felt a little comforting.

Having drunk all the coffee, my uncle placed the paper cup down and took something out of his jacket pocket. A cigarette case.

“Do you smoke?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Why? Is it bad for your health?”

“Well, not exactly, but… I just don’t feel like it.”

“That’s good! You don’t have to worry about quitting smoking. Haha.”

My uncle chuckled while lighting a cigarette. The silver lighter smelled strongly of fuel as it ignited fiercely.

After taking a few puffs, my uncle set the lighter down and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, feel free to ask.”

“Are you planning to make a career out of the military?”

“Military career?”

It was an unexpected question.

“Yeah. I’m asking if you seriously plan to do it for life.”

“Well, assuming nothing goes wrong, I intend to keep going. It’s basically a done deal.”

“…Really? Then let’s make a request.”

My uncle grinned.

“I want you to work with me on a project.”

“Project…?”

“They’re looking for someone like you in a unit that has a vacancy right now. It’s in intelligence.”

“Intelligence? I don’t think I’d be able to manage since I’m not an intelligence specialist.”

“It’s fine, man. I’m not saying you jump straight into practical work. You’ll get some training and education first, then move on to practical tasks. You might even get to go abroad. Just say you’re in.”

“What unit are we talking about? Is it something similar to the regimental intelligence division?”

“Kind of.”

Intelligence, huh. I tilted my head as I kept making ‘squeaky’ sounds.

“What unit lets you work overseas? Is it… Military Intelligence?”

“It’s not Military Intelligence.”

“Then where?”

My uncle smiled and took out his wallet, placing a business card on the desk.

Ministry of Defense. Foreign Intelligence. Lieutenant Colonel.

Pentagon.

And,

A small torch.

“You’ve heard of the Information Command, right?”

—

Episode 9 – Old-Fashioned

One week has passed since I came to this resort with clean water and good air. I splashed in the sea, hired a chef with national funds for gourmet dining, quietly went shopping with money lenders ‘Mr. B’ and ‘Mr. F,’ drank all night, lay around sleeping all day, you name it.

I did everything possible during my vacation.

But the problem is,

“This is weird…”

I’m bored.

After rolling around like a dog for over half a year, suddenly becoming Bill Gates for a week felt oddly unsettling. I felt a little disoriented. It’s like I was having difficulty adjusting back to reality.

“I feel uneasy…”

As I kindly explained my feelings, Veronica started looking down on me with an incredulous expression.

“What kind of nonsense is this? What trick are you trying to pull with this setup?”

“Why would I be planning something…?”

I wore stylish sunglasses and lounged on a chair, gazing at the sea. The expensive-looking sunglasses were something I bought a few days ago at a department store.

With Veronica’s money.

“Seriously. Did you think I only bought sunglasses with my own money? The clothes and shoes? Those aren’t from my money either.”

“Weren’t the shirt and shoes from Francesca?”

“The stuff my sister bought is different. That one is all my own money!”

“Oh, I see… didn’t realize…”

With a proud grin, I adjusted the sunglasses and smiled back. Veronica glared at me, shaking in anger while I basked in the sun on the sunbed.

“So nice.”

The sunlight feels warm, and the scenery is breathtaking. Laid back without a care, it felt like I was floating on the water.

Unlike the bustling beaches full of people, this place was under military control, allowing me to relax comfortably without interruption. So I relaxed even more, sipping a cool drink through a straw, sprawled out on the bed.

Currently, three people are here, including me. One is Veronica, lying beside me and shaking her head in boredom, and the other is Francesca, practicing her swordsmanship in the distance.

Francesca wielded a saber of the Patalia army. Against the backdrop of the striking sunlight on the shore, her practice looked more like that of a swordsman than a magician.

I couldn’t help but admire her skills.

“You’re good at it. You’d look just like Gandalf if you held a staff.”

“Gandalf… what?”

Though I’m no expert in swordsmanship, it was apparent that Francesca’s skills were top-notch. I had heard she had been handling a sword since childhood, but I didn’t expect her to be this skilled.

As I admired Francesca’s swordsmanship, Veronica, lounging on her sunbed, crossed her arms and wore a satisfied expression.

“My sister is pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Perhaps in a good mood from my praise, Veronica started sharing stories, rambling on about how Francesca’s sword is valuable, how she can handle more than just a saber, how it’s rumored she can make potions, how even alchemists can surprisingly fight, and have I heard of rune swords…

Veronica’s tales were intriguing. Especially about rune swords. Knowing magic was real here, I had it stored in the back of my mind but hearing the term ‘rune sword’ piqued my interest even further.

Rune swords were items I had seen in games.

Of course, they were from a long time ago, and I felt uncertain if they even mattered now, but I quickly stored Veronica’s words about rune swords in the back of my mind for later.

“That’s an interesting story. By the way, where did you learn your swordsmanship?”

“I believe she learned from a private tutor. He was a retired magician who was doing well as an adventurer, so he had quite the level of swordsmanship.”

“Private tutor?”

Didn’t she learn at the academy? Many kids with magic can’t use it, but still learn swordplay or martial arts at the academy.

“She was targeted by the Public Security.”

“Oh…”

“Which teacher would teach a student that the National Security Agency is monitoring? Especially swordsmanship.”

The sudden talk about the past made the atmosphere turn somber.

Veronica looked at Francesca with a bittersweet gaze. Francesca, feeling the stare, glanced this way, bowed slightly, and returned to her sword practice.

After gazing at Francesca for a long time with a poignant expression, Veronica let out a small sigh.

“Poor thing.”

A strange remark, not being able to tell whose plight she was empathizing with.

As Veronica laid back on the sunbed, trying to lighten the mood, she suddenly began teasing me.

“My sister is practicing hard like that. What about you, Lieutenant Colonel…?”

“Why are you getting all worked up out of nowhere, Saint?”

“No, just… One person is studying and practicing hard for the future. Meanwhile, you’re just lazily sitting there.”

I wore a strange smile as I took off my sunglasses. Then I turned my head to look at Veronica.

“Who says I’m just lounging around?”

*

When politicians or high-ranking officials step down, many flock to them, but that doesn’t apply to civil servants. A retired civil servant is just a civilian.

Unfortunately, I was a civil servant.

I was working in an intelligence agency, but due to the narrow relationships, nobody contacted me during my vacation besides family. Even Pippin and Jake didn’t reach out.

Of course, I didn’t mind that; however, it was unavoidable that a part of my heart felt gloomy.

I decided to throw off the shackles and constraints of this world and seek happiness.

In a serene forest near the resort, the sun shone warmly, difficult to believe it’s December, and the soft sounds of birds chirped gently. I inhaled fresh air deeply, enjoying the scent of nature that the forest created.

“Ahh…!”

“The air is lovely.”

I walked along the narrow forest path with Camila.

We were in a valley formed by hardwood trees that bent sharply to the north, characteristic of the southern eastern region of Abas.

“The quality of the oaks here is exceptional. It’s used to make oak barrels and was once a primary material for shipbuilding.”

I lightly tapped on the oak tree.

“This area, southeastern Abas, is akin to the Mediterranean. Camila, have you ever been to the Mediterranean?”

“To Sicily and Valencia.”

Italy and Spain, huh.

“You went to good places. Italy and Spain are fantastic locations.”

“Have you ever been?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

I smiled faintly and shook my head.

“As I mentioned before, aside from Germany, I haven’t been to any western European countries. My travels have mostly been to Eastern Europe. But my friends often traveled there.”

“Friends?”

“Intelligence officers.”

Some are still stationed within the Information Agency, and others have transitioned to the National Intelligence Service. Quite a few seniors and juniors have been assigned there.

While reminiscing about the past, I laughed aimlessly and continued speaking.

“I usually went to third-world places like Africa or the Middle East. Of course, I worked with English, and I could handle European languages too, so I could have been assigned to Europe or the Americas, but that didn’t happen.”

“No positions available?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they are developed countries which are friendly with South Korea.”

Developed nations with advanced infrastructure are preferred work locations for intelligence officers. Especially if they have close diplomatic relations with the country.

“Countries like France, Germany, Canada, the UK, and the US… For intelligence officers, working there is more comfortable. It’s relatively easier, not like there’s no work, but most of those countries have lots of famous tourist attractions, making it enjoyable.”

“Looks like spies also have fun.”

“We’re human too. Besides, there’s plenty of interaction between allied or friendly nations’ intelligence agencies, so it’s common to meet and learn from their intelligence officers.”

The academic elite of intelligence officers, an inquisitive magician, smiled widely.

“Ah, Camila. Have you ever been homeless?”

“Homeless? I once had to at an airport… Why?”

“I’m no stranger to homelessness, you know. I’ve experienced it quite a bit.”

“What on earth made you homeless? What happened?”

“Just, you know, work-related stuff.”

Can you imagine a group of six information officers sprawled on the street like beggars? Homelessness, where I was bitten by mosquitoes all night, was one of the worst experiences of my life.

“I had nowhere to sleep but needed to rest. With no lodging facilities and equipment I had to carry, I ended up sleeping outside. It was in Africa, of all places—especially in such a backward region.”

“Ah… that sounds really tough…”

“But North Africa was fine. Places like Morocco are similar to Islamic culture, so the food suited my taste, and everything was good in many ways.”

I walked down the street, reminiscing about the past.

“What made you join the Information Agency? Was it because of a movie?”

“Oh, I just got a job offer.”

“A job offer?”

“My grades were good. I had good college grades and high military entrance scores, and I could speak French and Chinese in addition to English. Of course, having my grandfather and father working in the agency probably influenced that some.”

Camila nodded as if she understood.

“Your grandfather and father worked in the agency.”

“To be precise, my grandfather was in the agency. He was with the National Intelligence Service.”

“And your father…?”

“He was with the Intelligence Command. The same unit as me.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why my father’s friend, a recruiter, came directly to me. I used to call him uncle when I was little…”

“Were you close?”

“Very much so. He helped me up until college. Of course, there were other people who helped too.”

We matched our steps as we navigated the soft dirt path. As thoughts suddenly crossed my mind, I chuckled to myself.

“Come to think of it, this is the first time.”

“The first time for what?”

“Talking about work with someone else. I’ve never shared it with anyone before.”

Whether it was the National Intelligence Service or the Intelligence Command, apart from family, one couldn’t disclose they were employed there. The same went for spouses. One could only mention their affiliation with the agency after passing a background check and getting married. That’s the rule.

So, aside from my mother, Camila was effectively the first person to know I had been with the Intelligence Command.

I playfully said to Camila, who was smiling for no reason, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Do you think people would believe it if I did?”

“Well… thinking about it, that’s true.”

We exchanged glances and chuckled lightly. It seems nerds just stick together.

Camila and I wandered between the densely packed oak trees. She appeared fascinated by this neighborhood’s forest, showing interest in some nameless plants along the roadside, occasionally closing her eyes to inhale the fresh air.

Thus, enjoying the gifts of nature, we gradually made our way toward our destination.

Finally, we arrived.

“A warehouse…?”

In a clearing at the end of the forest path, a shabby warehouse came into view.

While Camila curiously inspected the dilapidated structure, I used the key I had brought to unlock the padlock and stepped inside.

“It’s dark in here…”

“Be careful as you enter. You could get hurt.”

The interior of the warehouse, where not a ray of sunlight penetrated, was dark. I felt along the walls, found the power source, and flipped the switch to turn on the lights.

The old lights flickered ominously, one by one. I tapped the buzzing light and surveyed the warehouse.

Eventually, I noticed several duffel bags piled in the corner.

“Ah, there they are. Could you bring those over, Camila?”

“What bags?”

“Those bags over there, please move them here.”

As I was tidying up the dusty table, Camila returned groaning, struggling with both hands full of duffel bags.

Seeing Camila, who appeared to have some impressive physique, nearly straining under the weight of the bags, it seemed they were quite heavy. Sure enough, as she finally lifted the duffel bag with a thud, the table slightly trembled.

“What’s all this?”

After moving all the bags, Camila exhaled, her breath quickening, and asked.

I lightly unzipped one to check the contents, then pulled the zipper all the way down and opened the bag wide.

“It’s a ton of guns!”

Inside the khaki duffel bags was a massive assortment of firearms.

“Alright, everyone, turn them inside out.”

As I emptied the bags, the equipment poured out like spilled water.

Countless firearms tumbled upon the table. Camila’s eyes widened like a child seeing Christmas gifts, while I continued to flip the remaining duffel bags, pulling out the last of the items.

Guns, guns, and more guns!

“Hmm. Looks like I brought the right stuff.”

“What on earth is all this?”

“It’s firearms. They’re for your training, Camila.”

Leaving Camila, who still looked bewildered, I examined the weapons with a satisfied smile.

“Why are you standing there dumbfounded? Are you planning to stay like that all day?”

Camila stared at me with a shocked expression, hesitantly glancing back at the pile of guns.

“W-wait, you can’t be expecting me to use all of those… right?”

“Do you think I brought all those guns just for show? Of course, you need to try them all.”

I gave her a gentle nudge on the shoulder, starting to explain each firearm one by one, beginning with the pistol.

“Generally, information officers don’t often find themselves in situations requiring firearms. But it’s not that there are no circumstances at all, so every officer must undergo shooting training during their training program. There comes a moment when you need to defend yourself.”

I extended my fingers to illustrate.

“Pistols carried by information officers have specific characteristics. First, they need to be portable. Second, they should be readily available. Third, they must be able to attach suppressors. Fourth, they need to be affordable. These four characteristics are typically prized in pistols, regardless of nationality or region.”

“Affordable?”

“They’re firearms and ammunition that can be easily procured in any area.”

I provided several examples in response to Camila’s question, knowing that examples make explanations clearer.

“You said you enjoyed the 007 films, right? Do you remember which pistol James Bond carries throughout the series?”

“Is it the PPK?”

“Correct!”

I began explaining using the 007 example tailored to Camila’s understanding.

“The Walther pistol is one of the most commonly circulated firearms worldwide. PP, PPK, and PPK/S are all easily obtainable anywhere. It’s also quite simple to attach and detach a suppressor if you change the barrel. Plus, 9mm subsonic ammunition pairs nicely with suppressors. And of course, they’re widely available.”

“Oh, so that’s what you meant by affordability.”

Of course, the PPK is not noted for affordability alone.

“The PP, PPK, and PPK/S are sub-compact sizes, making them easy to conceal. Typically, information officers keep their pistols inside their jackets. If they’re too big and heavy, they become cumbersome. But the PPK is small enough to fit in a jacket pocket. That’s why many information officers have favored it since the Cold War—and still do.”

There’s a reason James Bond carries a PPK. Although it’s a commercial film, the original author, Ian Fleming, actually worked as an officer in an intelligence agency.

“Of course, there are cases where officers use Eastern Bloc pistols. These days, Austrian-made Glock models, because of their easy parts acquisition, are also quite prevalent. I myself have used sub-compact models like the Glock 19 and 26.”

“Have you used other pistols?”

“Well, I’ve tried SIGs, Smith & Wesson, Springfield, Walther… I’ve tested out various newly released models, but I haven’t had the chance to use many. I was assigned to Africa and the Middle East.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they attract attention.”

In Third World countries like Africa or the Middle East, having a shiny pistol gets noticed. It’s treated like a luxury item.

And once an information officer stands out, the chances of getting into trouble skyrocket, much like the volatility of Bitcoin, so those operating in Africa and the Middle East tend to use firearms that can be readily sourced locally.

I continued to inspect the pistol while explaining further.

“Back to the main point. As I explained earlier, most information officers carry firearms for defensive purposes, hence they prioritize acquiring pistols.”

Question time.

“Then why do information officers avoid submachine guns, rifles, and sniper rifles?”

“Uh, um… They stand out?”

With Camila’s response, I smiled and nodded.

“Exactly. Submachine guns, rifles, and sniper rifles tend to be large and catch attention easily. While they are used in the field, it’s generally only for assassination operations; officers don’t carry them when meeting informants or going out.”

“So, should I just practice with the pistol then?”

“No, you need to train with everything.”

Unfortunately, Camila was destined to wander through various conflict areas. So, she needed to be able to handle any firearm, even if just roughly.

Seeing her looking like she was about to cry, I smiled and handed her two pistols.

“Alright, these are the pistols you’ll be using from today.”

I set down one of the two pistols and presented the one I held to her.

“Familiar pistol, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it in a department store.”

Camila, who had a slightly pouting face, recognized the pistol I offered and perked up. I placed the pistol in her hand, and she grasped it with both hands, though with no ammunition loaded.

“What you’re holding now is the standard automatic pistol used by the Abas military. It can hold nine rounds in the chamber, and being sub-compact size, it’s easy to handle in confined spaces, making it popular among mechanized and armored units, as well as intelligence agencies.”

“I see. But it looks similar to a PPK?”

“They share some characteristics but aren’t identical.”

I pointed to the slide of the pistol she was holding with my finger.

“Originally, the PPK has a decocking lever in this part. However, this pistol lacks a decocking lever, so you have to manually hold the hammer back, fire it, and then slowly return it. It’s a safety measure, so you must do this after firing.”

“Any other safety precautions?”

“Just don’t do what they tell you not to at the shooting range. Don’t aim the muzzle at anyone, make sure the safety is engaged, don’t casually enter danger zones, and always practice trigger safety…”

After sharing several precautions and the features of the Abas pistol, I moved on to the next one. I took back the pistol I had handed her and fetched the one I had set down on the floor.

“This one was made by the Kien Empire. Do you know what that empire is?”

“Hmm. A hostile nation…?”

Correct. Abas and the Kien Empire are in opposition, much like the U.S. and the USSR during the Cold War.

Of course, the U.S. and the USSR weren’t always antagonistic, and thinking about how the U.S. lent loans to the USSR to help with food issues, or how they established embassies and engaged in trade makes their relationship less fiery than that of South Korea and North Korea. I assume Camila was considering that as well.

“What you’re holding now is the Kien military’s standard issue pistol. It’s used by the military police and the intelligence agency, but it’s quite common to see it in other continents since the Empire has frequently exported or donated it to friendly nations. Personally, I think it’s similar to the Tokarev.”

“It’s like an AK, right?”

The real AK is indeed their rifle… But let’s save that discussion for another time since today we will focus solely on pistols.

I explained the features of the Kien military standard issue pistol. I demonstrated disassembling and assembling the weapon, while also showing her the swapped barrel fitted with a suppressor. The same went for the Abas military standard issue pistol.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah.”

“Now it’s your turn to disassemble and reassemble it.”

“Um… what?”

“If you’re going to be an information officer, you should at least be able to remember what you just saw. Are you intending to forget it right away? Are you a goldfish?”

“……”

Thus, formal training began. Camila started with disassembling and reassembling the two pistols and even learned to maintain them.

Having handled firearms before, the act of inspecting the weapons didn’t feel odd to her, but since she was handling a pistol for the first time, she stumbled just a bit. Eventually, after a few nudges from me, she finally succeeded in reassembling the pistol. Shortly after completing that process, I moved on with her to shooting practice.

“Shooting a pistol is simple. We’ll start with the basic posture, moving on to precision shooting, rapid fire, movement shooting, and one-handed shooting assuming a wound. For today, let’s just warm up with precision shooting. Here, take these earplugs.”

“Okay.”

“Well then, maybe we should fire off about 100 rounds just for fun?”

“…What?”

I shot the real gun alongside the stunned Camila. After a round of firing, Camila mumbled that she had never expected to shoot 100 rounds.

“I really shot it. I’ve never shot this many before…”

It seemed that Camila still hadn’t fully grasped the reality of the situation. After removing the empty magazine and checking the chamber, she set the pistol down, perhaps thinking that was it.

“Camila.”

“Yes?”

“Who said you could just put the pistol down?”

“Isn’t it all done…?”

“What kind of nonsense is that? This isn’t a neighborhood shooting range, and just stopping shooting on your own doesn’t make sense. This is still part of the training.”

I picked up the magazine that had rolled away on the floor and found a few boxes stacked in the duffel bag. I handed them back to her, instructing her to load the next round.

We repeated that task about three to four times.

As the sun began to set, Camila, having shot over hundreds of rounds, was close to tears.

“But it was fun, right?”

“Shut up…”

 

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