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Director Petrus.

He’s calling for me.

But why? I racked my brain, but there was no reason for him to reach out.

Honestly, he’s not someone I want to deal with at all.

As I thought this while getting dressed and stepping out the front door of the embassy—

“Colonel Frederick.”

“…Priest Rebecca?”

In her black priestly robes, with mint-colored hair neatly braided over her left shoulder, the priestess approached me with a dignified demeanor.

“Director Petrus is asking for you.”

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

Following Priest Rebecca, I entered the office.

“Ah, you finally made it.”

Petrus gestured for me to take a seat, and Rebecca handed me a cup of tea.

“It’s been a while, Director Petrus.”

The old man tilted his head with a warm smile.

“Perhaps it’s because we’ve exchanged official documents frequently? We’ve only met once, but it feels like we’ve known each other for quite some time.”

In the past month, the embassy and the Inquisition exchanged hundreds of official documents—maybe even thousands. Given the current situation, the correspondence regarding the security of heroes flew back and forth like a group project on KakaoTalk. We had confirmed each other’s names daily in the signature box, so Petrus and I were somewhat familiar with each other.

I sat across from him at the desk. The cushion felt plush, and I lifted my teacup lightly to dive into the main topic.

“Why did you call me?”

“I called because there’s something to discuss.”

Well, why don’t you just get to the point? Seriously, it’s frustrating.

I furrowed my brows, conveying my impatience, and the old man chuckled, nodding.

“Right, right. Colonel doesn’t like chit-chat.”

What a difficult person to converse with.

“I hear you’re trying to find the route of explosives smuggling. Seems like you’re digging into the diplomat line.”

“You knew about that.”

I replied in a calm tone. Given the capabilities of the Inquisition, they obviously would have been aware that I was moving agents.

The only reasons to sit me down for this conversation are two-fold.

First, to warn me to stop indiscreet intelligence activities…

“Do you need help?”

Second, to relay information.

*

“Locust Publishing. Established eight years ago at the center of the cult.”

A photo was placed in front of me. It showed a sleek sign with the word “Locust” written in elegant script.

“It’s the publishing company headed by a man named Yuri. He shares the title of CEO with one bishop, but effectively, Yuri is the one in charge.”

I recognized the name.

A few days ago, Bernard mentioned he was an operative from the Imperial Guard HQ’s Second Department. So, a spy.

“You know him as well, right?”

“…I believe he’s an agent classified as black but operates on white standards. I heard he deals with lobbying, intelligence gathering, and investigating international crimes.”

“He’s been quite helpful to the Safe House.”

That was a hint Bernard casually dropped.

If my memory serves, Bernard mentioned that he would be providing additional information soon. Now it seems I finally understand what that ‘information’ is. I set down the teacup and tossed a direct question.

“Does the Imperial Guard HQ have anything to do with this recent bombing?”

“Indeed. More precisely, explosives were smuggled into the cult through Yuri’s connections.”

“Huh….”

Another photo was placed in front of me.

It was a picture of Yuri conversing with the Suit Man.

I flipped the photo upside down on the table.

“Haha! Looks like you’ve gotten a big hornet’s nest, Colonel. Feeling betrayed?”

“…Well, I had my suspicions.”

Petrus laughed with a kindly grin and continued explaining.

“I’ve been working in the Inquisition for over 40 years. Colonel, would you like to hear my opinion?”

I nodded in acceptance.

Petrus laid a few photos on the table.

“Recently, a shootout occurred in a poor neighborhood on the southern outskirts. Analysis of the shell casings found at the scene revealed they were produced by the Imperial Arsenal. Do you know what this means?”

“Are you saying the Imperial Guard HQ personnel were involved in the shootout?”

“We didn’t find any corpses or firearms, but the Inquisition suspects the guard agents are prime suspects.”

Right.

For reference, we have the corpses and firearms. To prevent decomposition, we stuffed them in the Safe House’s freezer.

“Personally, I suspect the Imperial Guard HQ in the shootout and bombings. It’s no secret that the special forces under the Guard conduct assassinations and destroy facilities, right?”

What Petrus was implying was not just any special forces.

“You mean the Special Activities Department.”

“You knew? I hadn’t planned on saying that since it’s confidential.”

“Isn’t it well-known? They’re responsible for quasi-military operations.”

The Special Activities Department.

A secret operational unit under the Information Agency. Every activity is classified, rumors swirl about its size and location, and even the identities of its members are kept under wraps.

Having now received the authority to command black operations, I also gained the power to call them in.

When I decide to take someone down, terrifying men loaded with guns and bombs cross the border for me.

By the way, Jake’s first recruitment offer was also from the Military Intelligence Agency’s Special Activities Department. But he thought being a spy sounded more romantic, so he turned it down. Anyway, that guy’s a bit off.

“So, you’re saying that the special forces of the Imperial Guard HQ crossed the border to detonate a bomb?”

“No, think a bit broader.”

Petrus spoke as if he were gently scolding a grandchild.

“If they were special forces, they wouldn’t have failed in an assassination. I suspect the last bombing was the work of operatives.”

“…Are you saying their skills are too crude for professionals?”

I had a similar conversation with the Colonel before.

The terrorists lacked specialized bomb knowledge. That’s why I didn’t suspect the Guard HQ.

Yet now, Petrus insists we change our thinking.

“Operatives can handle intelligence gathering or simple assassinations, yet they wouldn’t have the specialized knowledge for such explosions, would they? Why have agents roam around with pistols and poison?”

“…Let’s get back to the main topic.”

“It seems the conversation drifted. My apologies, Colonel.”

Petrus chuckled, feigning remorse.

“The last bombing was certainly the work of the operatives. Whether it was by the Emperor’s command or over-enthusiasm, one thing is clear: the operation failed.”

“So, a botched operation leads to the cleanup of the Second Department agents? That’s why they had a shootout?”

It’s a simple logic.

They tried assassinating an important figure in another country and failed.

The political responsibility resulting from the failed operation would need to be shouldered by the Imperial Guard HQ and the Emperor.

But politicians, when something goes wrong, instinctively deny involvement and flee at the first hint of blame. The Emperor likely executed a few related officials from the Imperial Guard HQ to wrap it up. And the fallout from that purge trickled down to the field agents who conducted the operation.

Thus, the operatives who smuggled in the explosives and detonated the bomb wound up getting handled too—just to ensure political stability.

“Not a bad script, huh?”

“…It’s a bestseller.”

I replied calmly and maintained my silence.

The Imperial Guard HQ purged the operative team that failed the mission. The Emperor cut off the tail to protect the head. Quite a clever idea.

But there’s something off about this hypothesis.

“….”

“What are you thinking, Colonel?”

“….”

Just before the bomb went off, an attacker with black hair and red eyes knocked me down.

It’s only a guess, but she saved my life. If I hadn’t stumbled at that moment, the procession would have advanced slowly, and everyone would have been caught in the explosion. Considering she attacked me without any weapons, her action seemed less like an assassination and more like a ‘detainment.’

She’s from the Counterintelligence Department of the Imperial Guard HQ.

The man who called me to the second floor of the party was the one who warned me about the second bombing.

He’s from the Counterintelligence Department of the Imperial Guard HQ.

These two individuals belong to the ‘First Department’ of the Imperial Guard HQ.

“…Strange, isn’t it?”

If Petrus’s hypothesis is correct, they have no reason to step in to help me.

If the Imperial Guard HQ truly plans to commit terrorism and the goal of the attack is to assassinate ‘someone,’ there’s no need to knock me down and prevent me from entering the explosion radius. They wouldn’t have any reason to warn me either.

“…Director, what usually happens after an operation fails?”

“When an operation fails, generally, you wrap things up and withdraw. Why stick around to leave a trace?”

I gently closed my eyes and began to think.

The most complicated moments in the espionage world are precisely such situations.

Some say an insider from the cult instigated the attack, while others claim the Empire orchestrated it.

Information coming in lies incoherent to each other.

In this field, one must dig like a thirsty person with a shovel to find anything.

From now on, I must sift through numerous layers of disinformation to discover the true information.

Slowly, I rose from my chair and adjusted my clothes.

Then I turned to Petrus, who was looking at me with a puzzled expression, and said,

“Director, I heard from Director Bernard that you have a keen interest in me?”

“Ha! Bernard mentioned that? How embarrassing.”

Petrus looked genuinely bashful, chuckling and twisting his body.

I pulled out a recorder from my pocket and placed it on the table.

“This is a gift for you, Director.”

“What is this?”

“Bribery.”

I flashed a grin and proposed an offer too good to refuse.

“Director.”

“….”

“Let’s work together just this once.”

 

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