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Ekaterina from the Counterintelligence Department recognized the overseas operatives.

Since I’ve been working in the overseas operations department, I’m somewhat aware of the relationship between the Counterintelligence Department and overseas operations. Operatives and counterintelligence agents are not on such friendly terms that they can easily recognize each other just by sight.

The nature of their operational fields rarely overlaps, so it’s unusual for them to meet.

Yet, Ekaterina recognized the operatives.

How did she manage to do that…?

“Colonel?”

“Yes, yes?”

“Are you okay…?”

Camila Lowell, looking bewildered, approached me with a concerned expression.

“Oh, I apologize. I was just lost in thought for a moment…”

“What are you doing to worry people?”

She chuckled slightly.

Before long, Lucia the High Priestess came over and greeted us warmly.

“Long time no see, Camila.”

“Lucia!”

“It’s been a while, Colonel Frederick.”

“Yes… Good to see you.”

We exchanged pleasantries, and in the distance, journalists were flashing their cameras while trying to get the perfect shot.

Amidst the storm of clicking shutters, I heard someone’s voice.

“Looks like the heroes are gathered in one place.”

—

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

For two hours, I went around the banquet hall, fulfilling official duties.

I reviewed official schedules with members of the cult, checked security with the Inquisition, and lined up with diplomats to decide which country to visit first.

Middle-aged men who waxed their thinning hair to appear more voluminous kept bothering me.

“Colonel, may I speak with you for a moment…?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ambassador. I have an urgent matter to attend to….”

“Frederick? Long time no see! Do you remember me?”

“Ah— um, you’re the consul, right?”

“Haha. It’s an honor that you remember me! Last time I mentioned….”

My heart raced every time strangers without even a proper name came up to me.

In a situation filled with countless requests and suggestions, as well as discreet bribes, there were only a few things I could say.

“I will relay it to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs…”

“That’s beyond my authority…! Ah! There’s the Ambassador…”

“Oh, ah! I can’t accept this…!”

I tried to politely decline, maintaining an official mindset as much as possible.

Passing off work to another department is an ingenious tactic that works in any world.

I couldn’t understand why they were trying to bribe me, though. I turned down countless gold bars and jewels without serial numbers that they tried to shove into my pocket.

Pushing away men who were practically my father’s age wasn’t an easy task.

But with duties to fulfill, I managed to escape.

I carefully moved to avoid colliding with others.

“Ah!”

It was always like this.

I quickly took out a handkerchief and handed it to the woman.

“Are you okay?”

“Ouch… Yes….”

The woman, with a slight frown, gazed at the spilled white wine, licking her lips in disappointment.

Come to think of it, I had seen her face a few times in the Inquisition’s press room.

It wasn’t hard to realize that this was a situation she intended. Journalists thirsty for exclusive stories don’t hesitate to pull such stunts.

So, I hurriedly pressed the handkerchief into her hands and attempted to slip away, but—

“Wait a moment!”

The journalist seized my hand tightly.

“Uh, why are you doing this, journalist?”

“How did you….”

“I’m currently performing official duties. Please let go.”

“Wait, just one interview…!”

Using the hand techniques learned during agent training, I slipped out of the journalist’s grasp.

“Colonel…!”

“Yes— I apologize. Just let me pass.”

I quickened my pace while watching the journalist being pushed away by the approaching plainclothes agents.

Suddenly, I found myself questioning if I wanted to become an agent for this kind of work.

Maybe I should have just heeded my grandfather’s advice and stayed away from intelligence agencies. I ended up here after foolishly following my father into the military.

“Colonel! I’m from the Rohana Times….”

“Please, no.”

Just stop coming at me, you pesky little pests.

—

In the end, the pen-wielding thugs were dragged away by plainclothes agents from the Inquisition.

At first, everyone resisted stubbornly, but as soon as ID cards were thrust into their faces, they turned pale and walked out on their own.

This is the image of the Counterintelligence Agency.

They’re a group capable of pulling off operations reminiscent of Cold War intelligence agencies, holding substantial power. No matter how much the intensity of espionage wanes, they still maintain a notorious reputation, rivaling that of the CIA and KGB.

Watching the journalist being dragged away, Pippin commented.

“The Inquisition hasn’t changed at all.”

“They’ve been around for hundreds of years breaking heretics’ heads with scriptures; they can’t be overlooked.”

At those brief murmurs, a few plainclothes agents flinched.

It seems the gentlemen who still break heretics’ heads are feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Jake, leaning against the wall, chuckled.

“All agencies are similar in terms of their experience.”

“That’s right.”

In this dark fantasy world, every country incorporates media suppression and political purges into their daily operations.

Centuries ago, each nation maintained secret police and public security agencies.

This continued, evolving into what are now known as counterintelligence agencies.

However, only a few countries across the continent can execute a proper intelligence operation (acquisition-analysis/overseas operations).

Thus, people often develop illusions about intelligence agencies.

Even those living in the 21st century harbor fantasies about them. James Bond wouldn’t be loved otherwise.

But the reality is like this.

“I don’t want to work.”

“Same here.”

“You troublesome idiots, just do that at home.”

At my complaint, Pippin and Jake burst into laughter.

“I should be able to go home whenever I want.”

“How can I go home when I have to follow the hero for several years?”

That’s quite absurd.

“Hey. We’ll be on break in between for maintenance anyway, so are you not going home?”

“Wait, can we go home?”

I stretched their ears and whispered to Jake and Pippin.

It seems this was their first experience with overseas operations, and they still weren’t entirely aware.

“For security reasons, if we need to report regularly, we have to go back anyway.”

The two finally understood and gasped in realization.

Many people misunderstand, but it’s not like spies can’t cross borders at will.

There are plenty of ways to cross borders for vacation, assignments, or contracts with buyers, etc.

“Once this is over, we’ll get a short break. You know our situation isn’t normal, right?”

Our operative team only has three members.

Considering that a typical operation team consists of at least ten to dozens of agents and local supporters, right now, we just have a makeshift team.

Oh dear. I’m a baby operative.

Give me people. Give me a budget.

It’s not quite that desperate, but I need to have a talk with the Colonel.

By now, he must have fully taken charge of the Military Intelligence Agency and changed hands with the Director, so by the time we return, he should be the Director himself.

Pippin and Jake seemed to catch on and nodded.

“I understand.”

“Right, right. Now get on with the reports.”

The three spies clustered together to start chatting.

Since I had already fulfilled my official duties today, intelligence gathering was their responsibility.

Pippin was the first to speak. Her mission was to gather intelligence related to terrorism.

“According to someone from the Inquisition, explosives transported through a publishing company were delivered to the cult.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“No, just witness testimonies which lack credibility since they saw it while going to work early in the morning. The ledgers are falsified, making it impossible to trace the funds, and investigating the publishing staff yields nothing.”

Hmm.

It seems the Imperial Guard HQ’s 2nd Division had quite a hand in this front company.

The operative in charge over there may have been executed for certain reasons, making it difficult to track.

Besides, it’s strange how both sides’ claims oddly match up.

The Imperial Guard HQ says it’s the work of an “insider” from the cult, while the Inquisition claims it’s the “operative” from the Imperial Guard HQ.

The Imperial Guard HQ 2nd Division delivered the bomb.

The cult’s representatives received the bomb.

And,

The Imperial Guard HQ 1st Division knew the details of the terror plans.

How on earth do I connect this…?

Anyway, now that I have Ekaterina, if I hit the cult side, I should be able to find some answers.

“Have the witness summoned to draw a sketch. Once we have the sketch, we’ll distribute it to the operatives.”

“Understood.”

As Pippin stepped away, Jake approached.

His mission was intelligence gathering within the banquet hall.

“Raul seems to be keeping an eye on Raphael these days. His approval ratings are quite low, but he’s trying to undermine Raphael’s image.”

“So, he’s going to slander him….”

I hadn’t viewed him that way.

It appears Raul has quite an appetite for power.

“And the schemes against the candidate Saint Lucia have intensified. The instigator hasn’t been identified.”

“Why? Wasn’t it Veronica?”

“No, it’s really a widespread attack. Veronica’s role is minor.”

This was unexpected intelligence.

“Veronica isn’t attacking Lucia?”

“Considering all direct and indirect means, her influence only accounts for about 20%.”

If the total schemes against Lucia the priestess are 100, it means around 1/5 is being driven by Veronica. I had thought she would play a much bigger role, but the proportion is surprisingly smaller.

Now that I think about it, I don’t even possess information about this Veronica character. At best, a few game setup details? Most of those are inconsistent analyses from online communities, so I don’t rely on them too much.

There’s plenty of information about Saint Veronica but none personally.

That bears investigation.

“Keep a ear out near Veronica. Monitor who she meets.”

“She’s right here though?”

Automatic reflexes made me lift my head and glance around.

Fortunately, the Saint Veronica was nowhere in sight within a few meters.

This feels a bit serious to just give a command casually.

I quietly leaned into Jake’s ear.

“Let’s discuss that later; let’s move on.”

“Oh, I heard the Saint election date is about to be set.”

The Saint election.

I’m mindful of it, but I don’t feel compelled to be involved, so I just observe.

“I’ve heard that too. They say once the Saint election is over, there will be a Hero inauguration ceremony.”

“The Raphael faction wants to hold the election as soon as possible, while Raul’s faction suggests delaying a bit.”

“Regardless of when the date is set, there will be a bit of a wait…”

“What? The Hero inauguration ceremony?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded in agreement.

Even in democratic countries, elections proceed like a long-distance marathon. There’s no way that anything will be processed quickly in this place where the system is in shambles. It won’t be long until bribes begin flowing into the pockets of those in charge of managing the elections.

The longer the election is delayed, the more someone will profit from it; some will gain financial gain, while others will gain political advantages.

The more the schedule is postponed, the more members of the cult will benefit. Just earlier, Cardinals were having very similar discussions.

From a rough calculation, it seems it will take quite a while until voting takes place.

“Voting will take at least over a month, so let’s move on.”

“Understood.”

Jake spent a while informing me of the intelligence he’d gathered.

“… That wraps up the key intelligence. I’ll submit the rest in a report.”

“Got it. You two, take a break for a moment.”

After finishing his report, the two slipped away, and I stood up, shaking off and started wandering aimlessly.

Having addressed all significant matters before hearing reports, what remained were mere trivial cooperative agreements.

I ambled around the banquet hall with lighter steps.

When I caught the eye of our side’s ambassador, a few secretaries followed me closely. Considering they are at least level 4 civil servants by South Korean standards, I couldn’t treat them carelessly.

Yet, I could.

Thanks to my special status as a companion of the Hero and the high-ranking individuals supporting me.

Thus, I navigated between tables freely, accompanied by a few diplomats.

I exchanged handshakes with the ambassadors I’d bumped into earlier, then passed over the diplomatic documents they handed to the secretaries.

I engaged in casual discussions over drinks with corporate executives regarding businesses, and I sat down with economic officials dispatched according to promotion courses to talk about trade and the continent’s economy.

After posing for a few photos with a famous singer who had just performed, I handed off the encroaching journalists to plainclothes agents.

Finally, after making a complete circle of the banquet hall, I could catch my breath for a moment.

“Whoo…. Thank you for your hard work, secretaries.”

“Not at all, Colonel. This is all part of the job.”

The neatly attired secretaries smiled while clutching documents in both hands. Their smiles weren’t genuine.

—

As the party atmosphere matured, conversations grew lighter, with casual jokes mixed in, leading to trivial banter.

“Recently, the employment indicators have greatly worsened… Exports are sluggish…”

“If the domestic economy slows down, uncertainty in exports increases. It makes the real economy even more difficult…”

“Due to pirates, maritime insurance rates have spiked too much…”

Economic officials and corporate executives were mumbling about the wrecked continental economy. Those were just trivial discussions in their eyes.

Right next to them, military attaches dispatched from the embassy were gathered, cutting meat.

“I heard a hole opened on the northern front recently? Due to the demonic attack, right?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a hole… The defense line was just slightly pushed back.”

“Oh dear… Is the front line okay?”

“The front-line units were pulled back to reorganize, and it was resolved with disciplinary actions against the commanders.”

“Haha. Many people will be waiting for their next promotions.”

Northern front. Demonic assaults. Defense line retreat. Unit reorganization. Disciplinary actions against involved parties.

I jammed a few key phrases into my head, confirming my fountain pen was functioning properly.

Defense and economy. These are the most important factors directly tied to security. Gathering such trivial intelligence and passing it to the Colonel will ensure he relays it to the higher-ups, who will decide the direction of policies for the upcoming quarter based on the information.

This is generally the kind of work a White operative does. Since the roles often overlap, intelligence agency personnel are appointed as ambassadors, and diplomats are scouted from intelligence agencies.

Originally, there’s just one piece of paper between diplomats and spies.

“Colonel!”

It was Camila Lowell’s voice.

Looking around, I saw her waving from among members of the cult. Right next to her was Priestess Lucia.

“What’s everyone up to?”

I slipped into their midst with a familiar smile. As I sat down, I took in the faces around me. They were all from the reports I had memorized completely before coming to the cult.

So it’s all familiar faces.

Casual greetings were exchanged, but since none were significant individuals, no substantial information passed hands.

And as it often happens in such gatherings, people soon said a few quick words before scattering.

Ultimately, those left at the table were merely those without any remaining duties.

Spies with no further tasks.

A completed Hero.

A candidate Saint who’s uncomfortable with the event.

Due to limited human relations and a lack of enthusiastic involvement in the event, the three of us formed some kind of unspoken bond.

Thus, light chit-chat began, meandering through personal topics.

“You look quite tired, Colonel.”

“Haha, thank you for your concern, Priestess Lucia. I assure you it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Are you taking your vitamins regularly?”

“Of course! How’s the food treating you?”

“It’s delicious!”

Camila Lowell beamed with a vibrant smile, while Priestess Lucia looked on with a subtle smile.

Under those gazes, it felt as if Lucia was viewing a cute child.

Indeed, it seems the two share a close bond.

Both being isolated in this world—Camila Lowell, feeling lonely, and Lucia the Priestess, buried in schemes.

Perhaps the two might feel a sense of kinship toward each other. It’s mutual sympathy, after all. Moreover, they are tied together as the Hero’s companions, so it’s expected they’ll forge a strong relationship moving forward.

As I watched Camila Lowell and Lucia share an amiable conversation, I thought of phrases to jot down in the reports, just as I tilted my wine glass filled with water to sort my thoughts.

“Frederick Nostrim?”

Someone called my name from behind.

Taken aback by the casual address, I instinctively turned my head.

A cold, blunt object pressed against my neck.

And then—

-Whush!

The pen thrust against my neck emitted a chilling mechanical sound.

 

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