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The lights are off in the embassy. At this late hour when everyone is fast asleep, spies gather in a secluded conference room.

An agent lays several photos on the table before beginning to explain.

“About two hours ago, agents who were out on a mission secured this spy. They are currently detained at a safe house located on the outskirts of the cult, and it appears that the spy has been unconscious since they were found.”

I took a look at the photos and showed them to Pippin.

She examined the photos carefully, nodding in silence.

“Looks like an agent from the Counterintelligence Department of the Imperial Guard HQ. Was her name Ekaterina? How did you discover her?”

“I approached someone who had collapsed in an alley. The agents recognized her identity and transported her directly to the safe house.”

Ekaterina.

An agent characterized by her black hair and red eyes.

She shouldn’t be here; she’s a spy from the Imperial Guard HQ, and she’s the one who ambushed me just before the bomb attack.

“Unconscious, eh? Is there no abnormality in her health?”

“I called in a tight-lipped doctor, and he examined her. She fainted due to malnutrition and overexertion.”

Malnutrition and overexertion.

Sounds like she was up to something interesting.

Propping my chin on my hand, I rummaged through the stack of photos and found something unusual.

“A pistol, a pen, and a pocket knife. What’s all this?”

“These are items the spy possessed. The pistol is a standard weapon used by the Imperial Army, and the pen contains a nerve toxin. It’s assumed to be for suicide.”

“Oh.”

While the pistol made sense, there’s no reason for a counterintelligence agent to be carrying a poisoned pen. Something seems quite off.

It appears this isn’t simply a purge; there seems to be a backstory we’re not aware of.

I glanced over a few more photos.

Bruises and abrasions. Bandages soaked with blood. Makeshift wounds were captured on film.

“I’m curious about what kind of person she is.”

How should I roast her to extract some information?

I pondered while tapping my fingers on the table. This seems like a matter that requires Colonel’s consultation.

“Contact me when she wakes up. For now, let’s clean her up a bit before interrogation.”

“I’m sorry, but there are no operatives available from the cult who can perform the interrogation.”

“Really? Not even someone for a simple questioning?”

“There is one psychological warfare agent available.”

What a pickle.

“Just focus on bringing her back to her senses and making her presentable.”

“Understood.”

—

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

The mysterious thug who attacked me, the counterintelligence agent from the Imperial Guard HQ, still hasn’t regained consciousness even after three days.

According to the doctor, she’s recovering and should regain consciousness soon. I generously slipped some hush money, but if she doesn’t wake up and just kicks the bucket instead, it would be quite the headache—like cramming a bullet in my head.

Of course, I’m not cruel enough to send the doctor off to America just to keep her quiet.

It would just annoy me a little not to be able to extract the information that’s stuck in Ekaterina’s head.

“Anything special going on today?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Oh, a report came in that many of the agents assigned to surveillance lost track of their subjects.”

“Seems everyone is hiding like rats. What about the wiretapping results?”

“Even now, the volume of communications is nearly nonexistent.”

Looks like the wiretapping team is slacking off due to a lack of work.

If you’re a civil servant with a great attitude, you should never be seen slacking off.

“Stop monitoring the Empire and switch your focus back to the cult. Let’s increase surveillance on Raul, Raphael, and the Inquisition.”

“I’ll reassign personnel to expand the surveillance range to include bishops as well.”

Truly an SSS-grade lackey.

Just as the report was winding down, Jake quietly opened the door and walked in.

“Colonel, did you see today’s newspaper?”

“No. What’s going on?”

“Take a look at this.”

Jake handed me a newspaper.

As I took it, I scanned over the contents, frowning deeply.

“Why is this Raphael fellow getting flamed?”

“It seems that being a former Inquisition Director, he’s been bragging about creating a safe cult. And now that a bomb has exploded and a shootout occurred, he’s taking the heat for it.”

“This is absurd.”

Cardinal Raphael is catching flak.

The attackers are leveraging his alleged incompetence for the terrorist incident that occurred during an essential diplomatic event, where a former Inquisition Director was in charge.

Consequently, Raphael is now suffering from negativity within the cult.

Although Raul didn’t explicitly criticize him, it seems he’s handling things through his entourage.

“And what’s this all about? Why is Lucia in trouble?”

“A conspiracy theory has emerged.”

The priestess Lucia is being plagued by conspiracy theories.

It seems Veronica, who is concerned about Lucia’s injury, is concocting something sinister.

Veronica had previously offered low-key criticism of Lucia’s seclusion for safety right after the terrorist incident. However, her recent attacks have escalated to absurd slander against Lucia.

This is possible because Lucia, who is under siege from various conspiracy theories and defamation, has her movement restricted while the relatively free Veronica can attend various events.

Of course, while Veronica isn’t outright slandering Lucia, those who know the situation are fully aware.

I skimmed through the newspaper, but aside from these two issues, there weren’t any remarkable articles.

“This is maddening.”

“The hero has been active without crossing into your territory, so we really have no grounds or means to restrain them.”

“Quite crafty. A real serpent, that one.”

I leaned back, reclining comfortably in my chair.

Perhaps due to lack of sleep, sitting down makes me feel like lying down, and lying down makes me want to sleep.

“Colonel, we’ve received a formal notice from our headquarters.”

“Spill it.”

“During Cardinal Raul’s stay in the kingdom, he has been meeting with several businessmen.”

Huh.

I didn’t expect that from him, but it’s disappointing.

“While the hero is busy, he’s playing with money, huh?”

“That could be one way to look at it, but there are currently no signs of any contract exchanges. Also, some of them have mysteriously vanished and are currently unaccounted for.”

“That’s something the Colonel will handle. Let’s just focus on keeping tabs on Raul and the people around him.”

“I anticipated you’d say that, so I have also gathered information on his close associates.”

Pippin placed a hefty stack of documents on the table.

“My, aren’t they adorable?”

I beckoned the others over to begin reviewing the documents.

These were meticulous records from genuine heavyweights capable of meeting Raul, all the way to lower-tier associates and key personnel.

I set aside several documents for promising individuals and their associates.

Then, amidst this shuffling, I spotted an intriguing name.

“Hey, check this one out.”

“This person? They’re an old associate among the closest confidants, but they don’t seem to hold any influential position.”

“I have some intel on them. Let’s see who they’ve associated with.”

“Understood. I’ll draft a proposal for the higher-ups.”

The logistics were coming together.

But there was still a major hurdle ahead.

“…won’t we get caught by the Inquisition while we’re at it?”

That’s the Inquisition I was concerned about.

From the moment we set foot in the cult, they’ve been keeping an eye on us, so it’s highly likely they already know what we’re up to.

So far, there haven’t been any issues, but I can’t predict how they’ll react if we run a covert operation against the cult.

“How about we negotiate?”

“…negotiate?”

“It sounds like you guys are anxious to catch the terrorists too; they likely have an internal mess going on after the shootouts. Can’t we swing by with some useful intel for a trade?”

Thinking about it, that sounded pretty reasonable.

Contemplating what could be used for bartering, a few ideas sprang to mind.

“Alright. I’ll have to meet with Petrus later and see if we can hammer out a deal.”

Jake’s expression soured.

He’s got some bad memories with the Inquisition.

“Do you not trust me?”

“I do trust you. Just… the Inquisition is a different matter….”

Jake trailed off. As a covert operative, he couldn’t exactly oppose my decisions, but it seems he couldn’t shake off his worries.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. I have my own plans.”

To lighten the mood, I decided to chat casually.

“Jake, you mentioned you’re from the Special Forces, right?”

“Yes. I was in the Army Special Forces.”

“I’ve heard you guys receive resistance training for torture, but if you ever need someone interrogated, why not take a crack at it?”

“Understood.”

Jake nodded and resumed his scrutiny of the documents.

I fell into conversation with him about work.

But as it often happens, we gradually veered into unrelated banter.

At some point, the topic shifted to tales from military life.

“After our class finished the graduation ceremony, the instructors poured alcohol into our boots, and we ended up licking it clean off the floor. Absolutely insane.”

“Did you guys do that too? We had to drink from our trainers’ boots during our training. Thinking back, I still don’t know how we managed that.”

“Yeah, back then you just did what you were told, barely registering anything, and when thirsty, you’re happy to have it.”

We covered all kinds of topics.

Terrible training, grueling junior life, and the awful cooks that seem to be everywhere.

“It was such madness when seniors called, we would just quickly sprint over, and I thought I’d finally escaped junior life until I was selected for the Intelligence Agency.”

“Why did you join the Intelligence Agency? Was Special Forces not your cup of tea?”

“No, it wasn’t that, I just joined because they offered better pay.”

“Oh wow—totally materialistic!”

“Hey! I was just somewhat familiar with the intelligence field, okay?”

“Did you have any acquaintances from the Intelligence Agency?”

“…Just… you know. Something like that.”

I dodged the question awkwardly.

Fortunately, Jake didn’t dig any deeper.

As the conversation trailed off into ambiguity, we returned to sorting through documents in silence.

Suddenly, I remembered something and paused to ask.

“By the way, did you learn about hiding greatswords when you were in the Special Forces?”

“Huh? Greatswords?”

“Yeah, you know, hiding them in the inside of your left sleeve and all that.”

“How would you know that, Colonel? We learned it directly from our instructor.”

“I learned it in the Intelligence Agency too. No guidelines were available, so we learned through trial and error.”

“Seems the same for us. We didn’t have any manuals either, so we got taught it by our instructor during demonstrations.”

“Really?”

Interesting.

I didn’t even know that such techniques were still taught in Special Forces until recently. It looks like both the Special Forces and Intelligence Agency have been unknowingly receiving some of the same training from their instructors.

Fascinating.

*Knock! Knock!*

There was a knocking sound on the conference room door.

“Yes. Come in.”

“Pardon my interruption.”

Bright red hair peeked through the door of the conference room. Just by the crown of her head, anyone could tell it was Camila Lowell.

“Camila Lowell? What brings you here?”

“The ambassador is looking for you, Colonel.”

“For me?”

What could the ambassador want with me?

Aside from a few work-related discussions, there isn’t really any personal connection, so it seems there might be an urgent matter.

As I brushed myself off and began to gather my things, Camila clarified my questions.

“Yes. I heard there’s some sort of invitation.”

“An invitation?”

“Apparently it was sent by someone named Petrus….”

Inquisition Director Petrus.

He was calling for me.

 

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