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The significance of revenge in a culture that values honor more than life itself is immense.

Revenge to protect the honor of one’s tribe and family is seen as righteous anger, and it is praised as a noble and honorable decision.

From that perspective, Sanya’s revenge against Asen was justified.

After all, the commander’s nephew first tarnished their honor by extorting money from merchants. For one whose honor has been sullied, seeking revenge is customary, making Sanya’s retaliation an undeniably legitimate act to uphold their honor.

Thus, the residents hailed Sanya’s revenge as a rightful and honorable decision.

In the same context, Asen’s retaliation was also justified.

Since Sanya had already set fire to their drug cultivation facility, wasn’t it only natural that they would seek revenge to protect their honor? When the residents heard news of Asen’s forces blowing up Sanya’s ammunition depot, they murmured in agreement.

Asen’s revenge was also a very valid and honorable decision.

The cycle of vengeance between warlords provided the local community with a thrilling catharsis, along with a hint of menace. You could hear talk of it everywhere.

“Did you hear the news? Sanya is gathering soldiers!”

“Not Asen?”

“Yeah. The last group to attack was Asen, right? Sanya must be furious.”

“Oh no. This could turn into a war or something!”

“……”

In the bustling café, I puffed on a cigarette while eavesdropping on the residents’ conversations.

They didn’t even glance at the foreigner clad in traditional Mauritania Continental attire. Whether one was a foreigner or a local was hardly distinguishable when men wore full-body clothing.

Sipping tea and enjoying a cigarette in a relaxed atmosphere, my peaceful break ended abruptly when a customer asked to share the table.

A local man in a shabby suit sat across from me. The man, concealing an old pistol in his coat, spoke to me in awkward Kien.

“Asud. Looking for you. Sheikh.”

“……”

I glanced disdainfully at the Warlord Duo, extinguishing my cigarette in the ashtray while gazing up at the sky.

A clear desert sky without a cloud in sight.

I rose from my seat, having placed a layer of pale smoke against its backdrop.

It was time to work.

—

Episode 16 – The Six-Million Dollar Man

The bloody showdown between Asen and Sanya had begun.

The people under the warlords’ rule were ecstatic at the news. An honorable revenge was not something to be condemned but welcomed, so no one blamed the warlords for their feud.

Except for the parties involved.

Upon receiving the news, Asen and Sanya could not hide their bewilderment.

“What is the meaning of this? Sanya burnt down our kitchen!”

“What are you talking about? Asen suddenly blew up the ammunition depot. How can that even make sense?”

Out of nowhere, they were ambushed, only to realize that they had been the ones to instigate the situation.

It was as if they had been slapped on the cheek while trying to find the source of an incident somewhere else. It was both shocking and frustrating to be attacked out of the blue, especially when they learned that the cause lay with them. What kind of nonsense was that?

Tension began to fill the air between Asen and Sanya, both having taken unexpected blows.

Yet, every organization has its level-headed and rational advisors.

Some of the advisors, sensing something unusual, tried to cool the heated atmosphere.

“Let’s think about this calmly for a moment. Isn’t there something strange going on?”

“There’s no reason for Asen to suddenly attack us. The matter with Jamila was weeks ago.”

“We should try to open a dialogue first.”

However, where there is light, there is shadow, where there is cold, there is heat, and where there is hardness, there is softness.

The hardline advisors criticized those advocating for dialogue, and the two sides began to draw tautly against each other.

Should they talk or retaliate? The dove had the justification of peace, while the hawk had the justification of honor. As the tug-of-war continued within the warlords’ camp, the tension at the frontlines began to heighten, and the mood turned increasingly foreboding.

Then, foreign press began to report on Asen and Sanya’s conflict.

At first, it was a short piece written by a war correspondent. The two-paragraph article didn’t generate much response back home, but the situation rapidly changed as more war correspondents got involved.

Flitting about the civil war zone, the war correspondents quickly covered the revenge battles taking place between warlords in one nation. As the correspondents moved, the correspondents in the field began honing their skills and continued reporting intermittently.

When their coverage hit the press, the warlords started to feel uneasy.

“Look! There it is, blasted across the headlines: Sanya supposedly attacked us!”

“We aren’t sure whether the flames behind the drug cultivation site stemmed from Sanya, Hassan, or the government forces. But losing our kitchen is no doubt a fact. Doesn’t someone have to take responsibility, no matter who it is?”

Of course, the one who published that article wasn’t Asen, Sanya, Hassan, or the government forces—it was a foreign spy.

“A skirmish over mining rights among warlords—will it ultimately lead to war? … The headline’s naive, who wrote it?”

—’There’s a new intern in the newsroom. Not much skill but smart enough.’

“Hmm. Don’t know about smartness, but they write succinctly. Quite a way with words.”

I tipped off a war correspondent through Dmitri, the head of our media department at the Magic Tower. The correspondent, scavenging for stories in the desert, quickly grabbed a passport and raced over to write an exhilarating article.

Other correspondents swiftly took the lead, but my involvement was limited to providing the initial tip-off; I figured there was no need to feed the media more than that.

—‘Merlo. About that article, are you sure a civil war is definitely on the horizon? It’s pretty apparent who’s behind this.’

“It’s because you know.”

—‘True, but if the warlords are being manipulated by foreign intelligence agencies, wouldn’t it just mean wasted reporting fees for everyone? Is that something that would sell?’

Dmitri expressed concern that seasoned correspondents wouldn’t be making unnecessary trips, but I had a different perspective.

“Honestly, I see it otherwise.”

—‘What? Are you looking at it in three dimensions?’

“No. Regardless, it’ll resolve itself with the warlords fighting amongst themselves. Isn’t that what really matters?”

What’s vital is that Asen and Sanya are about to go to war; the detail that the Military Intelligence Agency got involved barely registers in significance.

“Watch closely. It’s going to be one hell of an explosive firework show.”

—‘Fine. If you say so, I’ll have to trust you. By the way, any other tips?’

“Article? Hmm… A few days ago, a Sanya faction officer got hit by a missile between Sanya’s forces and the local government. How about that?”

—‘Oh, hell. Yes. This is it.’

The might of the pen, stronger than the sword—it certainly was true.

But I felt that wasn’t nearly enough.

Dmitri seemed to be on the same wavelength, throwing this question my way.

—‘But do you think they’ll really fight?’

“They won’t be able to avoid it.”

—‘Why?’

“Because I’m going to make them.”

—‘How?’

Every organization has its rational advisors. Among Asen and Sanya’s advisors, quite a few felt it would not be too late to scrutinize the reality of the situation before making a decision.

However, the final decision rests with people, and often human nature will prevail over reason.

I decided to provoke that nature.

—

*Bang!*

As the gunfire rang across the silent desert, a warlord commander fell. Soldiers surrounded the shot commander, aiming their firearms in all directions.

Observing from the scope, I removed the cartridge from the sniper rifle and reported to Nasir.

“Abu Ahmed Al Asen just died.”

For the conflict between Asen and Sanya to escalate into a civil war, such a sacrifice was necessary. I selected various targets from the chief commander list Hassan had compiled and systematically eliminated them.

A fundraiser for drug exports. A commander active in numerous battles. A liaison trusted by the chief of the tribe. A security officer responsible for safety.

Anger is the most powerful emotion a human can possess; it is destructive and impulsive.

To incite Asen’s fury, I targeted the executives of Group One. Then, disguised as Asen, I conducted an identical attack on Group Two under the justification of revenge.

Anger is like a flame, spreading with just a breeze. A spark from a lighter can set a building alight, the ash from a cigarette can ignite a forest, and a torn-up jester can burn down a city.

Stirring that breeze was my goal.

And in the end, I succeeded.

The initial skirmish and the black propaganda through the foreign press. The surprise attacks framed under the reasoning of revenge ignited fury in Asen and Sanya.

Resentments had built up over decades, and now their honor had hit the dirt.

In the Mauritania Continent, where honor is clearly delineated, the warlords, consumed by rage, were easy to predict.

—

The beginning was Asen’s operation, an assault on Sanya’s marijuana cultivation site.

A mechanized unit composed of trucks and cars broke through Sanya’s territory and raided the marijuana fields. Asen’s forces slaughtered all of Sanya’s guard forces, drove out the workers, and set fire to the fields.

Having lost their marijuana cultivation site, Sanya mustered troops to retaliate against Asen’s military base.

A thirty-year-old obsolete armored vehicle screeched along its rusted tracks as it shattered the outpost. As heavy machine guns blazed, the fleeing Asen soldiers were overwhelmed in moments, and Sanya’s soldiers, pushing the residents away with their gunfire, seized the arms and ammunition.

In the sporadic battles occurring near the borders, planned military operations were being executed.

And that evening.

Nasir brought me joyful news.

“Asen and Sanya have contacted us.”

“What did they say, Nasir?”

“They told us to stay out of their dispute.”

As expected, Asen and Sanya blocked Hassan’s involvement.

This dispute was none of our business; they instructed us to stay out of it and remain passive.

“Just as you said. Sanya seems wary of our Hassan cooperating with Asen. They’ve issued threats about facing a bloody revenge if we join forces, albeit with some benefits.”

“What exactly are those benefits?”

“A few coal mines near Hassan’s territory have been handed over to us. They may be small, but they yield very high-quality coal.”

Fearing a cooperation between Asen and Hassan, Sanya sent concise threats along with a few gifts. Three mines not far from the border.

Of course, Sanya…

It wasn’t just any ordinary gift that arrived. Asud was also concerned about Hassan’s entanglement with Sanya, so he offered a considerable amount of specialties as a bribe to Hassan.

This was essentially an internal matter among the warlords, so there was no need for Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan to inform me. However, he summoned me to share the ‘good news.’

The reason was obvious.

“You want me to convert this into cash, don’t you?”

“That’s right.”

In preparations for war, having more money is always better. And Hassan needed a substantial amount of capital more than ever.

I liquidated the modest gifts that the Hassan Warlord received from Asud and Sanya. To be precise, I handed the goods over to an information agent.

“Oh, Mr. Hormuz? It’s been a while. I trust you’ve been well?”

Hormuz, a Dark Elf from the Palm Tree Trade Guild, was a businessman who developed the black market in the north with the permission of Duke Alexandra Petrovna.

Having shared the black market spoils with Francesca, he was both my information agent and collaborator.

I asked him if he could distribute goods to the Mauritania Continent. Since Mauritania was Hormuz’s hometown, it seemed quicker to use this route than to go through Francesca.

Fortunately, Hormuz gladly accepted the proposal.

-‘Coal and minerals, huh? Quite attractive commodities. There are still many regions in the Mauritania Continent generating magic power and electricity using coal, so we can expect a significant profit.’

“When can I expect payment?”

-‘I can prepare cash immediately if I contact the tribe. Let’s give the Elder a call ahead. An orc carrying a load shouldn’t have any trouble crossing the rugged Mauritania desert.’

Hormuz swiftly converted the warlord’s goods into cash. Perhaps it was because Dark Elves, like Goblins and Dwarves, have an insatiable affection for gold, but the cash was overflowing. They were just like those Jewish folks.

A massive cash influx flowed directly into the Hassan Warlord’s coffers. The third group of warlords, now receiving financial support, immediately began reorganization. Some used the funds to purchase weapons and ammunition, while others trained their troops and fostered information agents within Asud and Sanya.

I acquired some of the information agents that Hassan recruited to expand my intelligence network. Now, not only did I have Hassan’s agents, but also those of Asud and Sanya.

Everything was going smoothly.

Asud and Sanya were fighting tooth and nail. Hassan quietly grew stronger. I could observe the entire desert with just a flick of my finger.

It was, quite literally, a perfect situation.

But then, something unexpected happened.

“Hello?”

I received intel from the informant I had planted in the police. It was the head of the information division at the police station whom I had shared cigarettes with before.

-‘Asud. A group of unfamiliar foreigners just showed up here.’

The information officer on the other end spoke in a frantic tone.

“Foreigners? Where are they from?”

-‘Well… it appears they have a passport from the Kien Empire.’

*

A machine brimming with magic power made a loud noise and spat out a sheet of paper. I snatched the paper, burying my face in it to check.

Just moments ago, I had received information from the police information officer about a suspicious foreigner appearing in the jurisdiction. I asked him for a copy of the passport, and he discreetly sent me a stolen copy.

In the black-and-white image, a foreign male’s face was captured. Next to it were letters in Kienese. The anti-counterfeiting mark on the passport was engraved with the flag of the Kien Empire.

Having obtained the identification copy, I opened the Military Intelligence Agency database to verify the identity. While there was a high chance it was a forged passport, it wasn’t uncommon for the Empire’s information agency to reuse passports for minor operations, so I hoped to perhaps find a clue.

Then, shortly after, I found an exact match for the passport from the copies among the forgeries of the Imperial Guard HQ and Reconnaissance Command.

“This is the Reconnaissance Command.”

There were two dispatched information officers. They were from the Reconnaissance Command.

One of them brought in a brand-new passport, while the other was listed in the Military Intelligence Agency database.

-‘Are you telling me those Reconnaissance Command types have appeared in the operation area?’

“Yes.”

-‘Are you sure?’

“I’m certain.”

With the news that the Empire’s information unit had emerged, the Military Intelligence Agency was on high alert. They requested information sharing with allied nation information agencies, inquiring if anyone knew anything about the Imperial information unit’s personnel active in the Mauritania Continent.

The result was soon delivered through Leoni.

-‘It turns out they are indeed part of the information unit. A captain and a sergeant from the Disruption Operations Department.’

I conjured up the organizational chart of the Reconnaissance Command in my mind.

Unlike the Military Intelligence Agency, which conducts intelligence collection, counterintelligence, security, investigation, and counter-terrorism both domestically and abroad, the Reconnaissance Command had no investigative authority. They did conduct counter-terrorism missions but solely focused on tasks unrelated to counterintelligence or military security.

The Reconnaissance Command was thoroughly specialized in foreign intelligence and operations, while the Disruption Operations Department was a special operations team, responsible for semi-military tasks like terrorism, assassination, kidnapping, bombing, and psychological warfare.

In short, they weren’t just any run-of-the-mill types.

-‘Two information officers from the Disruption Operations Department, a captain and a private. It seems the Reconnaissance Command has come to support the Sanya warlord.’

“Yes, that sounds right.”

According to intel obtained by Hassan’s agents, Sanya had recently requested help from the Empire, claiming they were going to war with Asud.

Normally, the Empire’s information agency would deploy ample personnel and support, but…

The issue was the current political situation in the Kien Empire.

-‘How long has it been since the demon made a ruckus in the northern regions for them to extract information unit personnel?’

Due to the aftermath of the northern conflicts, the military had lost a lot of momentum. They had celebrated victories, but the damage had not been insignificant.

It was only natural that foreign information agencies would stealthily approach, taking advantage of that gap. Furthermore, the Empire had earned considerable notor.

The Kien Empire was not only an international thug but also a neighborhood bully who fervently harassed surrounding nations. Just as Russia had acted like a gangster with Ukraine and the Baltic states in Eastern Europe, the surrounding nations of the Republic of Latwan well understood how rotten the Empire truly was.

That was the source of the problem.

-‘The border region near Latwan has been quite noisy lately. The Imperial Guard HQ and Reconnaissance Command are keeping a close eye on the eastern borders. In this current situation, it’s not easy to support a warlord across the sea while ignoring the dangers to neighboring states.’

“Then can I interpret this as the information officers’ actions being mere formalities?”

-‘Just for show. According to the Royal Intelligence Department, they’re not newcomers from the Empire but rather individuals drawn from an active local team.’

“So you’re saying they are employees detached from a team?”

-‘It means that even the Empire can no longer afford to send manpower.’

Yet that didn’t mean the Empire would sit idly by while Sanya got beaten down.

According to information provided by allied national intelligence agencies, a ship loaded with weapons and ammunition recently departed from the western ports of the Empire heading for the Mauritania Continent. Leoni assessed that the vessel was sending supplies to the Sanya side from the Reconnaissance Command.

Even without sending manpower, they would send supplies. Truly a decision befitting the Empire. The way the Empire maintains face is usually with money.

But Leoni was not someone who would quietly watch the supplies of weapons and ammunition flow into Sanya.

She promptly issued orders.

-‘Destroy the weapons and ammunition. Prevent the Sanya from receiving the gifts sent by the Empire. Or break them before they can even unwrap and use those gifts.’

“I understand.”

-‘Do the same with the information officers. If we leave those guys alone, who knows what kind of mess they might create? Make sure to handle it decisively. Do you understand my orders?’

It was a death sentence.

Leoni gave the order, followed by Colonel Clevenz’s apprehensions.

Clevenz, who reached out after a long time, reinforced Leoni’s command to eliminate the Reconnaissance Command information officers.

-‘If the Empire’s information unit starts moving in earnest, it will surely complicate our operations. It’s hard to admit, but the Reconnaissance Command’s intelligence-gathering capability is probably superior to ours in the field, right?’

“Indeed.”

-‘If they intervene, Sanya will have a good chance of gaining the upper hand. Of course, this could also expose Hassan’s involvement in this dispute, which would put you in danger.’

“……”

-‘There’s no need to take unnecessary risks.’

It was hard to refute that statement. In fact, there was no need to. I understood his point well.

Clevenz urged me to eliminate the information officers for safety’s sake. He then took a little time to update me on news from headquarters.

-‘Your family has been told to stay in touch. They know you’re busy, but they want you to reach out every now and then.’

“I’ll hang up now.”

-‘See you when you return home.’

Click.

With the communication cut, I sat there for some time, staring at my mobile phone.

The black screen displayed a foreigner dressed in traditional attire from the Middle East, or rather, the Mauritania Continent.

I detached the alchemical card storing battery and communication records and pushed it into the flames. The easily combustible alchemical card turned to smoke and swiftly ascended into the sky.

I stared at the dissipating smoke and pulled out a cigarette. Due to its uniquely strong flavor, I seldom smoked Mauritanian tobacco, but today I took in far more than usual.

I finished half the pack in the blink of an eye and, with my hands shoved into my pockets, returned to the lodging. The old men sitting on the street, smoking hookahs, glanced at the shuffling sound of slippers and soon lost interest, turning their heads back to puffing on their smoke.

“Are you back?”

As I opened the door to my lodging, Camila greeted me cheerfully.

Wearing an apron whose origin was unknown, she smiled brightly and gestured toward the table.

“Welcome back. You’re late, so let’s have dinner.”

“…Camila.”

I called out to Camila as she walked toward the stove.

I added in a slightly hushed voice.

“Let’s talk for a moment.”

 

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