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Commuting is the nemesis of all office workers.

Jake, who had just passed through the main gate of the Abas representative office at the Jumamag Tower, pondered such frivolous thoughts as he stamped his attendance for work.

Though many envied his overseas assignment as a distinguished diplomat, after working for a few months, Jake felt it was just another exhausting task.

“Ah, I don’t want to go to work…”

“Are you saying that again?”

He heard a familiar voice, one that was also quite welcoming.

Jake waved his hand in greeting to his colleague who appeared through the door.

“Hey, Pippin! You got here first?”

Pippin, walking like an undead, replied with a lifeless nod. She looked more like a zombie than a person.

If she let her hair down, she’d probably be mistaken for a crazy person.

“Isn’t it more appropriate to ask when you got off work instead?”

“When did you get off work?”

“Two days ago.”

“Goodness.”

Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

No wonder those dark circles under her eyes reach her chin.

“Why couldn’t you get off work?”

“I was swamped with tasks…”

“Analysis?”

“Yeah…”

The chronic issue with all intelligence agencies is the lack of personnel. And this shortage is most acute in the field of intelligence analysis.

While intelligence reports pile up like mountains each day, analyzing them falls on the shoulders of the few who remain.

Collecting intelligence isn’t easy, but the problem is that supply doesn’t keep up with demand. In intelligence circles, they call this phenomenon an “information flood.”

You might wonder if hiring more people would solve it, but honestly, that’s tough too. Training capable analysts takes time—usually a consensus of about three to five years. Plus, with attrition during training, departmental transfers, and resignations, developing an analyst becomes a daunting task.

Thus, Jake could only click his tongue in pity.

“Want some help?”

“If you could, I’d appreciate it…”

Entering the office with Pippin, Jake sat down at his desk and powered up his terminal.

On the bluish screen of the device, intelligence gathered in real-time from other agencies such as the Military Intelligence Agency, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Royal Intelligence Department, the Ministry of Finance, and the Ministry of the Interior was constantly updating. Jake rubbed his sleepy eyes as he glanced through the chaotic influx of intelligence.

Reports of more than a dozen people freezing to death in the northern region of the Latuan Principality due to the unusual cold, a bid competition between the state-owned enterprises of the Lushan Federal Kingdom and a major company from Patalia for a large-scale project commissioned by the Magic Tower, and footage of Kien Empire military units being redeployed to the north for what appeared to be an offensive preparation—all negative news.

Right around the time that a foreboding sense of another harsh winter crossed his mind, Pippin arrived with a steaming mug in hand.

“Here, drink this.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Jake accepted the mug of coffee and shared a sip with Pippin. Though it was loaded with sugar, neither of them particularly cared about the taste; they were just drinking to stay awake and work.

Pippin perched herself on the desk, enjoying her share of the coffee.

“What are you looking at?”

“News from the Empire. We might have to be dispatched soon.”

“Oh, I heard there have been a lot of casualties there lately? Seems like the bizarre weather and the northern mines closing up have created heating supply issues.”

“The northern mines are the ones for coal and magic stones, right? Why are they closed?”

“Must be because of the demon tribes. They’re in the thick of a fight right now.”

“Sounds like the battlefield is pretty rough. Last time, they even sent tanks up north.”

The two engaged in their usual caffeine-fueled conversation.

“Pippin, do you know anyone in the Empire? A junior or colleague?”

“I did know some seniors who were in charge of the Empire, but I haven’t been dispatched there. They were folks analyzing information back home, not overseas.”

“I don’t have close contacts there either… Hmm…”

Jake set down his mug and leaned back in his chair. The bright white lights were glaring at him, but he didn’t mind.

“How about asking the manager?”

“The colonel?”

Exactly. That person had worked in the notoriously challenging Empire for three years, and he had been active on the ground from day one, so he was likely to know something.

The problem was…

“I can’t get a hold of him.”

“…That’s true.”

When on vacation, everyone generally avoids work calls, but with no calls to indicate his return, there was no way to know where he was or what he was doing.

Moreover, Jake had dozens of contact numbers, yet not a single one was reaching him. It made him wonder what use he had for so many SIM cards. He suspected he might have a slight paranoia going on.

“I guess I’ll visit him when he’s back. He’s returning this week.”

“Let’s do that.”

As usual, Pippin and Jake sighed as they sat in the office.

“Sigh…”

“…Hah.”

And at that moment.

The former Information Command intelligence officer now residing in a hotel owned by the Ministry of Defense had recalled a fact he had forgotten.

“…Ah.”

I burned through all my SIM cards.

*

While pondering why Pippin and Jake hadn’t contacted him, it suddenly dawned on him that he had no means to reach out to them.

His phone wasn’t even activated, and the SIM cards he carried during operations were all destroyed. He had returned the secure terminals provided by the Military Intelligence Agency as soon as he got back. Moreover, he wasn’t even staying in an official residence but a hotel in the southeastern region.

He couldn’t reach out even if he wanted to since he had no clue about where he was.

So he promptly contacted the Military Intelligence Agency to inquire about Pippin and Jake’s status.

– “About Pippin and Jake… Are they currently on overseas assignment?”

“Yes. This is the Military Attaché Office of the Magic Tower.”

– “It seems they are currently at the Tower. I believe they are returning this Thursday for vacation. Should I route you through the military attaché office?”

“Please do that.”

He sent word to the Abas representative office at the Magic Tower where Pippin and Jake were located. He had heard they would be returning this Thursday, so if timing worked out, he could meet them in the capital.

Living without a phone led to such situations.

After finishing the call, he lay back down on his bed and pondered.

Had he been so caught up in life’s difficulties that he forgot about basic connectivity? No matter how challenging it was, he should have had at least some means to contact them. Should I activate a phone? But he didn’t have any money left in his account. The last time Colonel Clevenz mentioned a medal, did that come with a bonus? How would he connect with his family? When would the performance bonuses be released? Was he going to get fired for the disciplinary action? Surely, they wouldn’t revoke the award just because he was put under unofficial disciplinary review. Asking a friend for favors felt a bit much. Should he get a loan instead?

Lost in thought, a wave of existential dread washed over him. How did he end up like this?

His account was empty, his health a wreck, plagued by stress-related hair loss, and his stomach was acting up. He had grown distant from his family, while prices kept rising and his salary remained stagnant. Not only that, he was always traveling abroad but could hardly take any vacations. And now, he had even received a demerit.

He longed to switch to a desk job, but that was frowned upon from above. He didn’t know the exact duration, but it seemed he’d have to be on the field for at least another five years. It might even stretch to ten.

“…Fifteen days.”

He checked the calendar and saw that he had a total of 15 vacation days left. It was currently 23:18, so if he waited just another 42 minutes, that would leave him with 14 days remaining.

The commission… the higher-ups would soon ask if he had made a decision, whether by call, letter, or sending someone. “Have you made your decision?” It was a polite way of saying it was time to wrap things up and prepare for a new assignment.

“…Hah.”

“Why are you groaning like an old man while getting out of bed? You’re still a young man, aren’t you?”

“I’m sore?”

Even though he said that, there was nothing wrong. His finger just wasn’t moving as it usually did, but there was no pain, and his wounds had healed long ago. He was simply a bit tired.

“Is your finger feeling a bit better, Colonel?”

Jake gave his fingers a slight wiggle. His stiff thumb was still hard to move, but it had significantly improved compared to before.

It was leaps and bounds better than when it could barely twitch like a caterpillar.

“It’s much better. Thank you, Saint.”

“You should thank your sister for that. Anyway, I’m glad to hear you’re okay.”

As Veronica pointed out, the one who had aided in his recovery was Lucia.

It was also Lucia who brought over the bed used by the High Priest and the holy water and various sacred objects.

To be more precise, with Veronica’s help—who was proficient in haranguing the cardinal and bishop—he had requested those things from the National Affairs Council.

He had heard that holy relics, much less holy water and sacred items, were difficult to export. Things like the censer used during mass at the cathedral, the basin used by the inquisitors in a monastery known for healing, and the holy water sanctified from a religious source, among others…

Each and every one of them was of extraordinary quality. It was priceless.

Though whether it was appropriate to speak of religion in terms of price was debatable. Nonetheless, according to Veronica’s explanation, these items were “hard to acquire even if offered the weight of a saintly man in gold.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that? My sister went through quite a bit of trouble.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s said that things meant for royals or nobles are tough to procure. I basically threatened them to release it, so we managed to get it.”

“…Did you just say to dilute holy water? That’s a sham—”

“Shush. If we’re quiet about it, no one will know.”

“……”

Veronica pressed her lips with a finger and smiled brightly. She must’ve been out of her mind.

“Anyway, since your sister worked so hard to prepare everything, make sure to undergo the treatment. If it takes too long, it’ll just end up being harder on her.”

“Sure.”

Honestly, it felt like Veronica deserved the most credit for healing his finger, but since he saw her passing it off to Lucia, he just let it be.

Good vibes and all that.

“And stop complaining about being tired all the time. Why does a young man like you look so worn out?”

“Um… Work is tough?”

“I’ve never seen anyone from the Imperial Guard HQ or the Inquisition like you. What do you do while staying up all the time?”

“……”

He couldn’t exactly admit to insomnia, so he had to dodge the question.

“Is it because I’m approaching my thirties?”

At the sudden mention of age, Veronica shot him a disgruntled glare.

“Is that really worth making a fuss over?”

“What? Oh, by the way, how old are you now, Saint?”

In an instant, her face shifted like a monster bursting out from the gates of hell. Realizing he had touched a sore spot, he shut his mouth tightly.

“If you bring up age one more time, you’re a dead man. Understood?”

“Yes.”

After the small mishap, time flew by in the blink of an eye.

Camila, Francesca, and Lucia each dedicated their time to learning or practicing something, while I did everything I could to make Veronica carry out the overdue official duties.

By the time day changed to night for the second time…

We left our beloved resort and headed to the capital.

“You could have stayed there a bit longer, why…?”

“We’re running out of vacation soon. Isn’t it better to come back early and rest instead of rushing at the last minute?”

“But there are still just under two weeks left?”

Honestly, I had run out of things to do.

No matter how nice a vacation is, doing nothing and just lounging in a hotel was starting to get a bit tedious. This sentiment echoed among the four of us, so we returned much earlier than planned.

Of course, there was Camila’s training. But that could be done in the capital as well, and the specialized military training facilities were clustered around the city.

Additionally…

Both Lucia and Francesca expressed in unison that they needed something in the capital, prompting our return.

“What on earth do you need that requires coming all the way to the capital?”

“I guess… you’ll find out someday.”

I truly had no idea what it was, but it turned out that way nonetheless.

“Then I guess it’s best to part ways here.”

“You make it sound as if we may never meet again.”

“What kind of joke is that, Saint? People are waiting, so hurry. Look, there are the embassy folks.”

“I’ll see you soon. I need to get treated too… Do you remember where the hotel is?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be late. We’re off now.”

“See you later, Colonel.”

“Saint Veronica, don’t just head back; go to your cult.”

“…Tsk.”

Lucia, Veronica, and Francesca disappeared, escorted by the diplomats who came to meet them. Watching a secretary move a suitcase and a consul holding the car door made me feel a strange sensation.

The cars carrying the three of them left the train station, disappearing somewhere. They were likely heading to the diplomatic residence before convening at a government-provided five-star hotel.

After gathering my luggage, I started to stroll through the streets of the capital as the sun set.

I wasn’t alone.

“Where are we going?”

“Good question.”

Next to me was Camila. Slightly thinner from the intense training over the past few days, she looked a bit tired. Had the train ride taken its toll?

“Are you tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you just go with the cult or magic tower folks? I told you I have to walk because I don’t have a car.”

“Oh come on, that’s just a joke, right? Is there anyone here without a car? I found a statistic stating that over 70% of people commute by car…”

“…….”

“Really, none?”

“…….”

Camila looked at me in shock, like a child who just realized Santa Claus isn’t real.

“Why is there none…?”

“Because I commute from the official residence. It only takes 30 minutes by public transport.”

“Still, you’d think a civil servant would have a vehicle since they change departments regularly…?”

“Mostly going abroad. Even when going abroad, you still have to pay for vehicle tax, insurance, parking fees, and maintenance costs. I couldn’t justify buying one.”

“…Oh.”

Even being dispatched abroad doesn’t mean the agency covers vehicle maintenance costs. Everyone just sets up automatic payments.

“I used to set up automatic payments back when I had business trips abroad. Now I have to pay everything manually…”

Hearing that, Camila seemed shocked and said, “The welfare benefits are lacking. I guess there’s no union?”

“The French information agency has unions and even goes on strike. It is hard to find such a culture in other countries, whether in the West or the East…”

“Do you have family or friends coming to pick you up?”

“Uh… well, probably not.”

“They don’t have time to come pick you up?”

“No. They probably don’t even know I’m on vacation. I rarely keep in contact.”

“…….”

Camila’s gaze turned sympathetic.

Suddenly, the imagined scene of soldiers returning home to warm embraces played in my mind, but sadly, that had nothing to do with me. After nearly a decade working in intelligence, trudging through Incheon and Gimpo airports, I had never witnessed such moments. The Military Intelligence Agency was not that different.

“Don’t look at me like that, like you’re seeing a homeless person…”

“When have I looked at you like that!”

“Forget it…”

Exhausted, I decided to sit on a bench for a moment. Riding the train across half of Abas had drained me.

I patted my thighs weakly and spoke.

“Haa… Back in the day, I could take a four-hour nap while crossing the desert for a week without feeling it. But why am I so tired after just a few hours on the train?”

“The desert is tough. When driving, hours would pass without seeing any change in scenery; it made me feel sick.”

“Isn’t it horrible? The desert.”

My memories of the Middle East remain vivid, even after so long. Although it has been nearly 30 years, it sometimes feels as if it just happened yesterday.

The endless desert stretched out before me. The scorching heat. The sunlight and sandstorm that stung my skin. The bumpy, unpaved roads.

Each time I crossed a border, armed checkpoints greeted me. At a distance, you might not notice, but up close, you’d realize that the guards weren’t government military but soldiers from some tribe.

The first thing a tribe soldier does when they see someone with a gun is to release the safety. Even if a white person shows up amidst the Middle East, they’ll be cautious, and what do you think will happen to an Asian?

When a soldier approaches and taps the window, the standard follow-up is, “Show me your documents.”

Once I hand over my papers, the soldier examines them. Of course, I immediately divert my attention elsewhere. And thus, intelligence collection begins.

What’s the state of the checkpoint? What’s the armament status of the guards? Just by looking at the soldiers’ gear, you can get a rough idea of the tribe’s leanings.

Those focusing on the elite forces,

Those fully corrupt,

Those trying to conceal their military power,

Those obsessed with showing off,

Those operating independently or plotting a coup.

The most troublesome are undoubtedly those who you’ve been briefed don’t invest in weapons or equipment but happen to be nicely dressed and waiting for you. It’s a dire situation. It means someone knew you were coming and prepared in advance.

When the information in your head roughly lines up with what you see, the conclusion unfolds. The company trains you to do so, and when you’re out in the field, you must do so. After a few months, you get accustomed to it, and later, it just naturally aligns without needing to think about it.

“…….”

The time I spent in the Middle East flashed before my eyes: Damascus, Raqqa, Kabul, Islamabad, Miranshah, Baghdad, Tehran, Mosul, Beirut…

Speaking of Beirut, a memory comes to mind. One night at a hotel set up by a local informant. A crazy person detonated a car bomb downtown. I was startled by the explosion blocks away, thrown into a panic. I even called my American and Israeli friends that morning to ask if they were bombing right now.

Back then, I truly thought I would be helplessly killed by the Israeli Air Force.

Yet when daylight broke, an older colleague working at the embassy suggested we go grab a meal to celebrate the initiation ceremony.

That was my first deployment to the Middle East.

“…….”

In the midst of my contemplation, someone patted me on the shoulder. It was Camila.

Before I knew it, she was looking at me with a worried expression.

She asked, “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“…It’s nothing serious. Just pondering for a moment.”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt. I had nothing else to say, leaving us in silence as Camila stared at me.

Feeling burdened by her gaze, I broke the silence with an unexpected question.

“Uh, um… Camila. Our next deployment is probably going to be the Empire; how about checking up on it beforehand?”

“Out of nowhere? Why would you bring that up without context? Get a grip. It’s vacation time. Who thinks about work while others are having fun?”

“Well, I do.”

I felt it would ruin the mood if I said that, so I changed the subject.

“Um… So, where shall we go now?”

“You’ve been asking that since earlier. What are you going to do?”

“Um… right…?”

Honestly, I wanted to head to the official residence or the townhouse to take a break. Unpack my stuff and take a shower. But if I did, Camila would likely want to tag along as she was practically homeless right now.

On the other hand, going to the hotel was a problem too.

I had just spent over two weeks at the hotel, lounging around until a few hours ago. Heading back to the hotel again? That doesn’t feel right.

Right now, the hotel wasn’t a place to rest. Since the government had entrusted me with tasks related to Camila, Veronica, Lucia, and Francesca, I was basically a state-designated worker. I had to attend to their needs, provide security, and deal with all sorts of bothersome chores.

Even so, they didn’t make unreasonable requests or push me around, so it wasn’t all bad…

But honestly, I just wanted to relax now.

Then, what should I do right now?

“…….”

One thing was for certain, regardless of everything else.

I really needed a drink.

“Are you suggesting we drink?”

“I’m going to drink alone, though.”

“Let’s go together!”

“…….”

Camila suddenly jumped up and urged me to lead the way, excitedly shouting to find a place that serves special and exotic drinks like butter beer.

I found myself awkwardly nudged into searching for a bar with her.

 

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