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As the cold wind wrapped around the ruins and the Milky Way crossed the desert under the cover of night, the elite troops of the Hassan Warlord arrived on the scene, leading the police.

“Bring in heavy equipment and lift the debris!”

“There’s a risk of additional collapse. Secure the area.”

“Hey! Prevent the civilians from getting in! You there, sir! Don’t come any closer!”

Only the ruins remained in the wake of the battle.

Amid the anguished cries searching for the missing and the shouts keeping them at bay, I set off in the ambulance dispatched from the local hospital.

“……”

The intense raid from the previous night had come to an end. The responsibility for cleaning up lay with the warlord occupying the city and the corrupt public authorities.

I witnessed many things in the chaos. There were things I shouldn’t have seen, and others I didn’t want to see.

I looked up at the sky.

The chilly wind guided the souls of the deceased. Bright clusters of stars crossed the desert sky as night fell.

The blue flames still remained, brightly illuminating the darkness.

As if to comfort the souls in their rest.

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

As the warlord took action, the situation quickly came to a resolution.

The fire brigade affiliated with the warlord collaborated with the local fire department to rescue residents trapped under the rubble. Upon receiving a message from the sheikh, the head of the hospital opened up all patient rooms for intake, and the warlord who opened his granary began relief efforts.

Dragging my exhausted body away from the scene, I found Nasir stepping away from a meeting to offer his condolences when he received my report.

Given there were patients, our conversation was brief. He offered to provide fortified accommodation, and unlike last time, I accepted the offer.

“……”

Up until entering the accommodation and trying to get some sleep, Camila and I hadn’t shared a single word. Though we hadn’t been apart for long, I was itching to talk.

There were many questions I wanted to ask, but I kept silent. The situation wasn’t conducive to conversation. We each entered our rooms and fell asleep.

The next morning, I could hear information from Nasir.

“It was Sanya’s doing.”

“……”

“They placed a bounty on foreign journalists.”

As expected, this attack was Sanya’s doing. To be precise, the assassins acted upon the bounty presented by Sanya.

“Since yesterday, there have been reports of foreign journalists falling victim to similar attacks.”

“Are there fatalities?”

“No.”

The foreign journalists who came to cover the civil war were all under the warlord’s protection. Rather than protection, it was closer to a surveillance system to prevent cooperation with the government army.

However, thanks to the quick response from the warlord’s forces, the assassination failed, and both the surveillance and protection had already served their purpose.

However, I was an information officer posing as a journalist, so I wasn’t under Hassan’s protection. To put it more precisely, Nasir had set surveillance for me.

Nevertheless, with the guest facing an attack from a thug, Nasir couldn’t completely escape responsibility.

He appeared before me with an extremely apologetic expression.

“It doesn’t seem to be a case involving foreign intelligence agencies or the counterintelligence agency of this country. Even the agents in the capital were completely unaware of the situation.”

Nasir, who came to my accommodation, detailed the circumstances surrounding the large-scale attack.

The intelligence network of the Hassan warlord extended all the way to the capital, controlled by the government army, largely thanks to the efforts of Nasir and Nayan.

A friend he made at university held a senior position in the military police and counterintelligence agency. It was a typical instance of a corrupt public sector thriving on connections and bribery.

In any case, it was a relief that the Empire Information Agency hadn’t caught wind of it.

“Whatever the circumstances, Hassan has no intention of letting this matter slide. Just as you did, journalists are my guests too. When a guest suffers harm, what kind of host would just sit back?”

I silently nodded while puffing on a cigarette.

“The fact that Sanya put a bounty is a good sign. It means they have much to hide. It seems to be a measure to conceal secrets that absolutely must not be revealed to foreign entities.”

“I agree. Sanya is currently cooperating with the Empire Information Agency.”

“There’s a chance there might have been civilian massacres during the battle. Please look into any related rumors.”

Nasir readily agreed to assist.

I inhaled the smoke from the hookah deeply and exhaled it while absorbing the following explanations.

The warlord explained the basis for his newfound knowledge of the situation. The route through which he acquired information included agents embedded within Sanya’s organization, but the most valuable intelligence came from the assassin.

“I believe it was Salam. The shaman who attacked you. I interrogated him.”

Though it was named interrogation, it essentially meant torture. The quickest way to extract information is through torture. It’s a common practice even among intelligence agencies.

Torturing the shaman led to a wealth of information. The method through which he became aware of the bounty on the foreign journalist, the way targets were selected, the routes to claim rewards upon completing contracts with Sanya.

The person who selected me as a target held a grudge against me, but it was the shaman himself who went to claim the reward after hearing the news.

I found that shaman Salam and pried out every piece of information he knew.

“Ugh…! Mmph…!”

Water gushed over his face covered by a cloth.

This was the favored method of waterboarding used and loved by intelligence agencies, an ‘enhanced interrogation technique’ my American friends would call it.

I pulled the damp cloth away with my fingers and said, “Refreshing, right? I’ve heard that water towers are getting bombed and hard to come by these days. How about it? Want to drink more?”

“…N-no….”

“More? One more time?”

“Stop! No more!”

The shaman, coughing up mouthfuls of water, spilled out everything he knew. The contacts who relayed reports to Sanya’s client, the meeting places, the timings of the rendezvous, and even the code words.

With this information in hand, the warlord dispatched elite units to abduct the contact. After visiting several safe houses, I gathered quite a bit of useful information in less than half a day.

Though the methods were radical and brutal, Nasir didn’t hold me accountable. After all, he too was a person in need of information.

“This is the information I just acquired.”

“Thanks. Is there anything you need?”

“I’d appreciate your continued cooperation moving forward.”

I secured a promise from Nasir.

“I swear by my tribe and my honor.”

This was a commitment to maintain relations with the Military Intelligence Agency even after the conflict between the Asen and Sanya ended.

Hassan would benefit from the intelligence agency’s help in acquiring hard-to-get arms, capital, and information. Simultaneously, the Military Intelligence Agency could execute dirty work while seeking regional stability, allowing for a mutually beneficial arrangement.

“……”

Standing before the door of my accommodation upon returning, I had routinely delayed facing the matter using the aftermath and work as excuses, but now I had to confront it.

Nervously, I reached out and gently knocked on the door. Knock, knock.

“Camila.”

“……”

“I’m coming in.”

*

Though the time apart from Camila hadn’t been long, I knew nothing about her.

How did she make it here from the capital? Why did she come to find me without returning to the Empire?

There was no need for deep thought. I had taught Camila well. I had shown her how to avoid checkpoints and how to find transport through dangerous areas. She must have simply moved as I instructed.

So, I didn’t pry. Instead, I asked a different question.

“What’s wrong?”

A feeble answer came from beyond the door.

“…I’m okay.”

Was it because she was alone in the bathroom? Her voice was faintly trembling.

From her small and powerless voice, I realized that Camila had been crying.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re okay at all.”

“I killed someone.”

“……”

Her response made my head hang low. Leaning quietly against the wall near the bathroom, I bowed my head silently.

I understood exactly how Camila felt. I said nothing. I simply empathized.

-sssaaaa…

The sound of water could be heard from beyond the door. The noise of water flowing against the tiles and the sink.

Had she turned the faucet too hard? The sound of rushing water continued, followed shortly by a retching sound.

She was throwing up.

“……”

Though nausea had begun, there was no sound of food being expelled. That made sense; Camila hadn’t eaten today.

Hiding away in the bathroom, she repeatedly retched. Since the early morning when Nasir arrived, she had been throwing up for almost an entire day.

A faint sigh escaped my lips. The sound of tearing tissues and clothes brushing against her mouth came through the door.

After a brief while.

Perhaps having managed to stabilize herself, Camila finally opened her mouth.

“…I’ve seen people die many times. But this is my first time killing someone.”

Her voice was earnest.

Leaning against the wall, Camila began to speak. It was a heartfelt confession.

“…I don’t like it.”

“……”

“From the very beginning.”

Camila, separated by the door, laid bare her thoughts.

“Aiming at someone with a gun, killing with magic. I don’t like any of it. In fact, I felt that way the moment I arrived here.”

“……”

“Helping the warlord.”

I already knew well of her background. Camila had been a volunteer with an international relief agency.

Following her sister, who was a doctor, she traveled through the conflict zones of the Middle East, including Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan. She had also visited the civil war areas represented by South Sudan and Congo.

And from my perspective, someone who had traveled to several war zones, those places were akin to a hell of madness.

The confrontation between the government army and the warlords. The rampant terrorist organizations. The civilian massacres are beyond counting, while robbery and looting thrived.

It was right in those places that Camila found herself.

I didn’t know exactly what she had seen or felt. But I knew that she was acutely aware of the barbarity of such factions. I also knew she held no good feelings toward them.

Thus, during the past fortnight, Camila, under the warlord’s protection, had occasionally shown her discomfort, even if she didn’t explicitly reveal it.

So it wouldn’t have been easy for her to accept the operations this time.

“……”

I leaned against the wall, quietly lost in thought. Camila spoke to me through the door.

“Are you used to it?”

“Used to what?”

“Everything we’re experiencing right now….”

“……”

After a moment’s thought, I answered honestly.

“I am.”

“…Why?”

“Because it’s not my first time.”

Killing someone, supporting warlords—none of these were new experiences for me.

The time spent in intelligence had gifted me with many experiences. Some of which I desired, and others I did not.

“……”

After I shared those words, Camila posed another question.

“How?”

There were many meanings behind that inquiry.

How could one be friendly with warlords?

How could one so easily take a life?

How could one commit murder and remain unaffected?

And,

How could one make such decisions?

I fell silent for a moment before responding.

The answer came quite readily. Perhaps it emerged because I had lived without thinking, or maybe it was because I had pondered it for too long.

What I stated was somewhat of a lackluster response.

“Because it was an order.”

“…So, as a soldier, you obeyed the command?”

“Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

I leaned my head against the wall and added, “I know it’s wrong to follow orders without questioning their immorality or inhumanity. I understand it’s a cowardly excuse, too. Evil often wears an ordinary face, doesn’t it?”

This is a quote from a movie about handling the author and a book on Eichmann, who was complicit in the genocide of Jews during the Nazis.

The famous lines from the movie and the phrases written in the book are different, but the conclusion faced by the commander of the special operations unit and the Nazi remains the same.

Death.

The cowardly commander spat out excuses and committed suicide with a pistol, while Eichmann was sentenced to death in a Jerusalem court, ending his life on the gallows.

Both followed orders from their respective positions and met similar fates in different places.

“…….”

Perhaps, from Camila’s perspective, my response wouldn’t differ much either.

To argue that supporting a warlord to incite civil war and kill people was merely due to an ‘order’ is just a cowardly excuse.

Yet, since I was at it, I decided to add a little justification.

“There was an old sign at a company I used to work for.”

A military intelligence agency based in a certain area of Gyeonggi Province, known as the Information Command.

There hung an old sign, inscribed with words gifted by a president who came to power through a coup and ended his dictatorship with the assassination of the Information Chief.

I murmured the words I once saw on that sign long ago.

“Loyalty pierces through stone.”

Loyalty that pierces stone.

Even though the National Intelligence Service has many mottos with various names, the motto of the Information Command has always remained the same.

Camila, who sat beyond the door, listened silently as I continued my explanation with a faint sigh.

“Uh… My grandfather used to work as an investigator in the intelligence agency. A chief investigator for the Central Intelligence Agency. He was a spy catcher.”

“…….”

“Even now, they’ve changed their name twice and have replaced their motto, but the very first motto they used was this.”

“We work in the shadows while aiming for the light.”

The motto representing the Central Intelligence Agency. What that ‘light’ actually signifies was a matter of debate among the public, but one particular motto stuck vividly in my memory.

Silent devotion, solely for the sake of protecting and glorifying the Republic of Korea.

I say, “Honestly, I was teased for having spelling mistakes all the time, but I actually found that the most appealing. It’s not exactly the company I worked for, but they nailed that one line, didn’t they?”

I added with a slight chuckle.

“Protecting and glorifying. It sounds silly, but it’s the truth.”

Though the companies were different, the essence was quite similar.

The nation commanded, and I obeyed.

With loyalty that pierces stone.

For protection and glory.

“The tasks assigned by the intelligence agency, frankly, we hate them too. Who would want to kill someone? How many people are born thinking, ‘Oh, I want to grow up to be a person who takes lives’?”

“…….”

“Even though it isn’t openly mentioned from above, it must have been a pain. Even if it’s for the national interest, cooperating with warlords against a legitimate government is a tough gig. It’s a headache even for the ones giving out orders. With the budget allocated for that, they could have fed starving people instead.”

But what can we do? If they say jump, you jump.

The intelligence agency is a workplace, and employees are people too. If we don’t want to worry about how to survive on the streets, we have to endure, no matter how tough it is.

I know. It’s a cowardly excuse.

But one thing must be kept in mind.

If there are people eating meat, then there are also those who must kill the livestock.

“Did you ask if I’m used to it?”

Finally, I answered her question with my honest feelings.

“If you’re asking if I’m used to it, then yes. If you’re asking if it feels like nothing, then no.”

“…….”

Silence filled the room.

We exchanged quiet moments, separated by a single door. Although no words were spoken, within that silence, we could understand each other.

“Someone has to do it, right?”

That’s my answer. Whether it’s the answer Camila wanted to hear, I don’t know.

Flowing through the silence was the sound of rushing water.

After a long silence, Camila finally spoke up.

“…Honestly. I wanted to run away. Helping a warlord. No matter how I think about it, it didn’t seem right.”

“But you stayed.”

I heard the sound of a faucet being turned off.

“Because you were here.”

“…….”

“I thought things could change. Joining the intelligence agency. I figured even if I didn’t become exceptional, at least my situation would be better than when I was doing nothing.”

A faint chuckle escaped her lips.

“But after coming to my senses, I realized I was already changed.”

I leaned back against the wall, pondering. Then, I pulled away and walked to the table.

Eventually, when the sound of water stopped completely, Camila, who had been curled up in the bathroom, finally opened the door and stepped out.

Her face was worn, but her eyes still sparkled with life.

As I watched her, I spoke.

“…You said you wanted to be an information officer.”

Camila replied, her voice firm without a hint of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Even now?”

She nodded.

I sat on the table, looking at Camila as I asked.

“After seeing all this?”

There was no answer.

But she had already answered. Anyone who looked into those earnest eyes would think the same.

I reached out and pulled out a chair in front of me. Then I said to Camila.

“You said you wanted to be an information officer.”

“…….”

“Let’s talk about your career path.”

*

Holding an emergency passport issued by the company, I returned to Abas.

The Military Intelligence Agency received a call from the Ministry of Justice managing immigration, instructing me to return to headquarters immediately.

Thus, I arrived at the headquarters of the Military Intelligence Agency. Beneath the director’s office situated on the highest floor.

There, I faced Leoni.

“…….”

I had returned after a long time, but my superior’s expression was not very bright.

It wasn’t because I used an emergency passport on a non-emergency situation, nor was it due to my unreported return.

Leoni was showing clear signs of discomfort as he skimmed through papers. He tossed a sheet of paper onto the desk and said:

“What’s this?”

“It’s just as you see.”

The document that arrived at the overseas office had been prepared by me. It was not a report.

This was a plan.

“As reported, I intend to recruit a new individual. To be precise, a collaborator.”

“Got it. I know too. I’m not an idiot. But what is it?”

“What do you mean?”

Swish! The papers scattered in every direction. He had thrown the documents.

The papers that floated in the air fell onto the office floor. This wasn’t typical behavior for Leoni, who disliked disorder, but the one who caused the mess didn’t seem to care.

Pointing at the discarded papers, Leoni raised his voice.

“Why is the name of a hero in the documents for recruiting collaborators?”

Among the papers that fell at my feet was a photo of Camila. Written beneath it, the name ‘Frederick Nostrim’ in eight letters.

Indicating the plan, Leoni began to speak again.

“I told you to secure the hero and help Hassan take down the Empire. When did I instruct you to recruit the hero as a collaborator?”

“…….”

Even after throwing the documents, he seemed none too pleased, exhibiting frustration for a while. It was only natural as a subordinate had disobeyed orders and acted on his own.

Leoni leaned over the table, looking at me.

Then he asked, “What on earth are you doing?”

I paused for a moment, choosing my words carefully.

“Isn’t it strange to recruit a collaborator? Even if they’re a high-ranking official. It’s not a rare occurrence for the company to bribe and intimidate.”

That was my way of saying, “Why are you acting so upset?” Precisely, this wasn’t a fresh new mess.

Leoni chuckled.

“Is that your answer?”

“It’s necessary for the operation. Please approve it.”

“You must have some thoughts behind this. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be acting like this. But my opinion differs.”

Leoni plopped down in the office chair, reclining against the backrest.

“The hero. A figure who draws public attention. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is if the company is found out to have recruited her?”

“Isn’t that the same danger when embedding an agent among high-ranking officials? It’s the same with the operation supporting warlords in the Mauritania Continent.”

“That’s true. But this case is different.”

Leoni pointed out the glaring fact.

“Do you even know who is near the hero? The Duke. Alexandra Petrovna or Smirnov. The Duke of the North and the Emperor’s cousin.”

“I know. I’ve met her a few times.”

“Do you know how many times that person visits the palace daily? They have access to the Emperor’s chamber. A person who can enter the Emperor’s room, which is guarded by the elite.”

“Yes, I’m aware. That information came from our Petrogard branch. Their staff is quite capable. It’s not a secret.”

“Right. But if the news that the hero is cooperating with our Military Intelligence Agency reaches the Emperor’s ears—”

I cut him off.

“Apologies Director, but I think it’s time for you to change the branch employees.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even the so-called capable staff seems not to have heard about the Emperor secretly receiving treatment from Saint Lucia while suffering from dementia, right?”

*

The situation started with a phone call from the cult.

“Hello?”

-‘It’s me.’

“Oh, Director.”

Director Petrus of the Inquisition suddenly reached out.

At the time, I was immersed in paperwork at headquarters. It was New Year’s, and I remember being quite busy right after the canonization ceremony of Lucia.

The calling Director Petrus conveyed news about Lucia.

-‘Saint Lucia has left for the Empire.’

“The Empire? I hadn’t heard any such news.”

-‘It’s an unofficial schedule. I don’t know the reason either.’

I knew Lucia had departed, but he didn’t know why she had gone to the Empire. Even intelligence agencies don’t know everything.

Therefore, I went to find the highest person in the cult to gain information.

Lucia’s adoptive sister and the Saint of the Cult. Veronica.

“Veronica. I heard Lucia suddenly left. Do you know anything about it?”

We met at the hookah shop of the Holy Land, Lateran. Veronica tilted her head.

“She’s in the Empire? What could be the reason?”

“I came here because I’m curious about that too. Do you recall anything?”

“Hold on a sec….”

Veronica pondered, searching through her past memories. Suddenly something seemed to light up, and she snapped her fingers.

“Oh! Come to think of it, the Duke visited Lucia once. It was during the canonization ceremony that he secretly came at night.”

“Is there a reason the Duke would visit the Saint in secret?”

“Not sure. I didn’t know, but Lucia once mentioned something in passing.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s a debt she owes to the Duke? Apparently, she received help about the Inquisition’s activities in the North.”

That was something I knew as well. However, I hadn’t been aware that the Duke owed Lucia a debt.

I waited briefly at the cult, anticipating Lucia’s return. Then, upon receiving a call from Veronica that Lucia had returned, I went to find her.

The truth I heard there was entirely unexpected.

“…The Emperor is how?”

“He has dementia.”

As winter passed, and the season of rebirth returned, I received intel that the Emperor was suffering from dementia.

 

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