---

Sitting in the safe house, I gazed at the map.

A map marking all regions connecting Asen, Sanya, and Hassan. Red lines chaotically crisscrossed the desert map.

I opened a water bottle covered with condensation, gulping down half of the remaining water and wiping my mouth. Then I got a chair and leaned back.

Raising my head, I stared at the ceiling.

My gaze was directed at the ceiling, but my mind drifted into the past. I cautiously closed my eyes and rummaged through my memories.

“Camila, you said you wanted to be an information officer, right?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s talk about your career path.”

—

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

—

The Abas Information Agency began to stir with the onset of a storm.

Senior information officers gathered in a conference room to assume the worst-case scenarios, while headquarters analysts shut themselves in offices, collating intelligence from the Empire.

In the meantime, I stepped out of the immigration office thousands of kilometers away from Abas, donning sunglasses.

To shield myself from the blinding sunlight of the Mauritania continent. It also served as a handy tool to conceal my face.

“You’re here, Asud.”

“Hey, long time no see.”

The Warlord Duo greeted each other warmly, shaking hands and stuffing my luggage into the trunk.

The Duo behind the wheel shifted gears and pressed the accelerator, driving away from the parking lot and toward the territory of the Hassan Warlord.

I returned to the scene along the bumpy dirt road.

To put an end to the conflict between Asen and Sanya.

—

At the time I returned to the site, the conflict had escalated.

Asen and Sanya exerted all their efforts to cut each other’s throats.

“Asen launched an attack on Sanya’s cocaine production facility. It’s interpreted as an attempt to cut off funding.”

The Asen’s Group 1, which supported Mauritania-centric views, relentlessly smashed the infrastructure of Group 2.

The cocaine production facilities and marijuana farms that had provided significant funds to Group 2 were just the beginning.

“Fire!”

The ammunition production mines and the ammunition manufacturing plant also came under attack. This included the causality that allowed Group 2 to continue fighting, as well as the nitrate mine that triggered this dispute.

Asen’s assault was primarily executed via mortars, with Group 1 soldiers employing hit-and-run tactics, transporting mortars and shells in vehicles to strike and flee.

“What’s happening with Sanya?”

Sanya, having suffered an attack from Asen, immediately launched a counterattack.

“Sanya’s troop has ambushed Asen’s city. An elite unit composed of a small force is moving like guerrillas in the urban area.”

“What were the targets of the attack?”

“Public offices, city hall, magic supply stations, substations… The number of destroyed facilities on the Asen side is uncountable.”

Sanya focused on unconventional warfare using a small elite force. While the main forces pressured Asen’s front line, troops that infiltrated the rear demolished facilities.

The reason Asen could operate mortars was thanks to supporters backing Group 1. Foreign politicians and generals supporting Mauritania-centric views were supplying Asen with shells.

In contrast, Sanya, supported by the Kien Empire, actively utilized special operation forces.

When the Asen mortars scorched the fields, Sanya’s special forces blew up their command centers. When Asen’s pursuers came hot on their heels, Sanya’s special forces swiftly retreated to urban areas and mountains.

This was a clear tactic employed by the Imperial Army.

Asen, supported by the state of Mauritania.

Sanya, backed by the Kien Empire.

Though both warlords were evenly matched at the start of the conflict, as the dispute dragged on, the tide began to turn in favor of Sanya.

The starting point was Sanya’s armored division breaching Asen’s main resistance line.

—

– Vrrrrooooaaah!

The outdated armored vehicle obliterated Asen’s defenses. It was armored equipment provided by the Kien Empire’s Ministry of Defense to warlords 12 years ago.

Asen Warlord brought out anti-tank rockets to counterattack, but it was futile against the onslaught of Sanya’s armored division coming from all directions.

Moreover,

“A shaman! A shaman has appeared!”

“Kill that bastard right now!”

Sanya began to deploy shamans onto the battlefield in earnest.

Though this was common knowledge, Group 2 was the wealthiest warlord in the country. They had received a lot of funding from the Kien Empire, and the largest marijuana farms belonged to the Sanya Tribe.

Sanya, which invested tremendous capital, gathered shamans from all over the country. They paid salaries that regular people would earn in a year, encouraging many to join the fray.

The remuneration Sanya presented was far more than what Asen promised, drawing shamans seeking to make money to flock towards Group 2.

The shamans belonging to the warlord lacked the skill compared to combat magicians from advanced nations, but they were still shamans.

The moment they formed packs, machine gun emplacements would be buried underground, and incantations would send a dozen of them soaring over buildings—how could one defend against that?

As Sanya’s shamans pressured both the front lines and the rear, Asen began to mobilize their own shamans, but it was too little, too late.

Those shamans lingering without choosing sides began flocking to Sanya, attracted by higher pay.

Hassan was no exception.

“The exodus of shamans is accelerating.”

“I’ve heard that many have defected from Asen.”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about. Some of our Hassan shamans have started crossing over to Sanya.”

Moving mercenaries is about money, and shamans joining the warlord are basically mercenaries too.

The shamans, now experiencing an unprecedented boom due to the conflict between Asen and Sanya, were seizing the opportunity to make a fortune.

“Most shamans born and raised here tend to stick with their tribes, but shamans from afar are siding with Sanya.”

“It’s going to be hard to stop people drawn by money. Isn’t there any way to gather shamans?”

“I could hire shamans at Dead Whale Harbor, but… they tend to flaunt their monetary desires, so it’s tough to get them on board.”

“……”

Nasir was wary of the phenomenon of his shamans defecting. If Sanya amassed more shamans than Hassan, the balance of power would break.

However, one phenomenon caught my attention.

Names were being crossed out one by one from the list of Asen’s officials provided by Hassan’s warlords.

Having witnessed commanders dropping like flies, I realized that the Reconnaissance Command’s duo was moving behind the scenes.

“It seems an Imperial intelligence unit has intervened. The Asen commanders are being assassinated.”

“I heard they were taken out by snipers.”

“Who obtained their movements? And who chose the targets? This is clearly the work of the Reconnaissance guys.”

“Is it time for us to intervene?”

Nasir, who was being passive to avoid losses, changed his stance around that time.

While it could be related to concerns about Sanya gaining control and absorbing Asen, he had also been deeply wounded by the fact that Hassan’s shamans had defected to Sanya.

But I felt differently.

“No, now is not the time to step in. Asen is still holding on.”

“Then what should we do? Should you move yourself like last time?”

There’s no need for me and the Hassan warlords to step into the conflict. This was an Asen and Sanya affair.

Which meant,

“… Is there really a need for us to step in? The ones opposing Sanya are Asen.”

We didn’t have to get our hands dirty.

—

“Waging war against Sanya is Asen’s job, not Hassan or the Government of Abas, Nasir.”

“That is true, but…”

“Normally, whether in gambling or betting, the fun comes from borrowing others’ money. Let me handle it; just watch.”

“Alright then. If you need anything, just let me know.”

I began to take action to curb Sanya’s push against Asen.

First, I needed information. I started gathering intel on Sanya’s movements through my information agents, and with Hassan’s help, I attempted to make contact with the Asen warlord.

“To push back Sanya, we need to collaborate with Asen. But directly intervening in the conflict would be detrimental for Hassan.”

Hassan had established a ceasefire agreement with both Asen and Sanya. Before the war broke out, the two warlords had requested a significant withdrawal from combat along with considerable profits to block Hassan’s involvement.

If Hassan were to begin officially cooperating with Asen now, it would look like a betrayal to Sanya. It would be as if Hassan violated the ceasefire agreement and struck from behind, justifying Sanya’s potential attack on Hassan.

“To avoid giving Sanya justification, we must support Asen unofficially. We provide assistance, but we must avoid scenarios where we enter the battlefield alongside Asen.”

“Then what are we to do?”

“We need to quietly establish contact with high-ranking officials from Asen. Very discreetly.”

Nasir attempted to facilitate a meeting between me and Asen’s high-ranking officials, but I declined his proposal.

Unlike Asen, which lacked an intelligence department, Sanya had the Reconnaissance Command overseas team lurking. They’d be watching for signs of cooperation between Asen and Hassan. If Hassan’s leader moved directly, the likelihood of being caught in the Reconnaissance Command’s detection net would skyrocke.

In other words, it meant that we had to meet in a way that didn’t attract attention.

I searched for a collaborator within Hassan who could arrange a meeting with someone Asen knew.

After some time, I successfully found a suitable intermediary.

“Farid, a guest has come to see you.”

“A guest? Who?”

“It’s Mr. Asud.”

Farid, son of Nayan Al Bas, leader of the Al Bas Tribe.

He was the perfect candidate, meeting all the criteria I’d set. With his father being Hassan’s accountant, Farid had numerous acquaintances in Asen, and having distanced himself from the warlords due to his recent overseas studies, he wouldn’t be drawing Sanya’s attention.

A slacker who previously lived carefreely abroad and then parachuted back to the fold. He had no accomplishments under his belt and did very little work, mostly avoiding entanglements with the warlords.

With such a background, he would likely fall outside the surveillance net of the Reconnaissance Command. Who would expect a slacker to be discussing major matters of a warlord?

Imagination and creativity are among the qualities intelligence agencies demand from their staff, but those who present unrealistic possibilities are often treated as lunatics. In a hierarchical, authoritative structure like an intelligence agency, it’s tough for operatives to maintain creativity or raise objections.

I swiftly maneuvered into the tightly wrapped loophole of the Reconnaissance Command.

Thus, after setting a promise through Farid, I headed to the territory of the Asen Tribe, where I encountered an unexpected individual.

Jameela, the niece of Sheikh Bint Al Asen, leader of the Asen warlord.

“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Asud, introduced by Farid.”

“Nice to meet you, Asud. My name is Jameela; I’m Farid’s friend.”

Bint’s niece and the one who sparked the flame of this conflict greeted me warmly, speaking in fluent common language of the Mauritania continent.

Like Modern Standard Arabic, the common language of the Mauritania continent is only used in limited areas. Dialects are spoken in everyday life, while the common language is reserved solely for official diplomatic documents or scriptures.

In that sense, Jameela was quite a knowledgeable individual. In a place where most people couldn’t get a proper education, mastering a language that symbolized higher education showed this.

Thanks to this, I could skip the preamble swiftly.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries and get to the point. The Empire’s Intelligence Unit stands behind Sanya.”

I shared information about Sanya that the Asen side was unaware of. Though Asen, operating an intelligence department, knew a lot about Sanya, they hadn’t acquired the information regarding Group 2’s support from the Imperial Intelligence Unit.

This wasn’t particularly surprising. No matter how talented the warlord intelligence department might be, how could they measure up to a state intelligence agency?

The Kien Empire is a major power, and its intelligence agency isn’t one to easily have their tails caught in interactive conflicts between nations. Even if the Asen warlord had them under their thumb, there’s no way the Reconnaissance Command would easily expose themselves.

“It’s a unit known as the Reconnaissance Command in Kien. It’s a military intelligence agency supporting armed organizations abroad that provide advantages to the Empire. Right now, friends there are assisting the Sanya tribe, which is currently clashing with Asen here.”

“The fact that Sanya is receiving help from the Empire is well-known. Never thought the intelligence agency would get involved, though. But why are you telling me this, foreign gentlemen?”

It’s a given that Asen wouldn’t swallow the bait whole. No matter how urgent the situation might be, who would believe an unknown foreigner showing up to speak such things directly to a ceasefire-engaged warlord?

Jameela discreetly probed my intentions with a smile, gently tossing the hint of cooperation aside.

Though the situation had derailed, I didn’t panic. Asen had the time in their favor, but time was on my side.

I cast the bait and waited for a few days in Hassan’s territory. Like a fisherman patiently casting a line into a reservoir, waiting for a catch.

—

As the days passed, the situation on the front line began to worsen gradually.

Asen, having lost commanders to snipers, couldn’t withstand the offensive led by Sanya’s armored divisions and shamans. The elite forces dispatched to catch guerrillas in the rear were slaughtered by shamans in the city, while Sanya’s armored vehicles exploited the gaps left by Asen’s elite forces.

With the situation unfolding this way, it wasn’t Sanya with the fire under them, but rather Asen. Under the ample support from the Kien Empire’s intelligence unit, the Asen warlords, who were resisting, made covert contact within less than a week.

Thus, I reconnected with Jameela. This time, the meeting spot had shifted from Asen’s territory to Hassan’s.

And this time, another guest joined us.

“Good to see you, Asud. I am Mukhtar, in charge of Asen’s intelligence.”

Mukhtar Al Nur, the head of the Asen Intelligence Department.

Operating Asen’s intelligence department, he sent me anxious glances, clearly under pressure due to the string of losses before the Reconnaissance Command’s troops, who were systematically knocking down the main officers.

It was on that occasion that I proposed collaboration to the head of Asen’s intelligence department—in an unofficial manner.

Though he was reluctant to embrace an offer from a foreigner, there were ultimately no alternatives left.

As Sanya intensified their assaults, he reached out for Hassan’s assistance.

More precisely, he sought my help, which was assisting the warlord.

“The reasons commanders are dropping like flies on the front line are that the Empire’s Reconnaissance Command has gotten a handle on that information. Even though the dispatched intelligence officers are only a few, they are quite skilled.”

“What can we do for you?”

I was willing to leverage Asen.

“Let’s first tackle this urgent fire.”

I began to devise a plan to counter the support from the Reconnaissance Command’s detachment. Using the information that Asen’s intelligence department had been gathering on Sanya.

Asen’s intelligence department had been monitoring a warehouse on the northwest coast for years. The site was where Sanya stored weapons, ammunition, and illegally captured monsters for export abroad.

The warehouse was usually managed by orcs with whom Sanya conducted trade, and according to the Asen intelligence chief, they were the mafia of this location.

—

During this time, I received two valuable pieces of intelligence from the Operations Team of the Royal Intelligence Department.

-‘A ship has arrived at the northwest port. Weapons and ammunition sent by the Imperial Army are stored in the warehouse where Sanya conducts trade.’

This intelligence indicated that the weapons and ammunition supplied to Group 2 warlords had arrived.

The intelligence didn’t stop there.

-‘I heard from the branch that Sanya borrowed money from the orcs. The ones managing the warehouse containing the supplied military supplies, that is.’

“What does it mean that they borrowed money?”

-‘It means they prepaid the goods fees, meow.’

Sanya borrowed money from the orc mafia. Once the conflict was over, they promised to deliver more drugs than usual while demanding the money upfront.

For the orcs, who had been consistently trading with Sanya, Sanya was a reliable business partner, so they willingly lent them money.

What an amusing tidbit. Sanya borrowed money from the orc mafia, who were now also hoarding the weapons supplied by the Empire to Sanya. If I could weave this cleverly, it could entangle the warlords, mafia, and Reconnaissance Command all in one fell swoop.

Having acquired this info, I contacted the head of Asen’s intelligence department.

“Burn all the goods! Don’t leave a single one behind!”

“We need to get out before the ammunition explodes! Hurry!”

Having received the details, the Asen warlords raided Sanya’s warehouse. The warlord’s soldiers killed the orcs and set their goods ablaze.

Not only were the drugs and monster-like products stored there incinerated, but also the gifts that the Reconnaissance Command had sent to Sanya were engulfed in flames.

There was little time before the news of the warehouse being attacked reached Sanya. During that short time, I also attacked Sanya’s marijuana farms.

With Camila.

—

-Fwooosh!

“They’re burning nicely.”

Camila, masked with traditional attire, silently observed the flaming marijuana fields. The view of that vast field, reminiscent of American plantations, going up in flames was something extraordinary that one couldn’t pay to see.

Amidst the blazing cannabis fields, I remarked jokingly as I watched the black smoke rise high into the sky while my own presence vacated the area.

“It seems like your skills for burning fields in Africa haven’t faded. The experienced pros are indeed different.”

“Shut up!”

—

The attack on the warehouse and the marijuana farms was publicly blamed on Asen.

With the tides turning unfavorably, Asen needed propaganda. They needed to calm the restless crowds in any way possible and stick it to Sanya.

In that situation, the warehouse and marijuana farms burned.

The word spread through the ears of the Asen intelligence department, keeping a close eye on Sanya’s movements. Having received the report, Asen’s leader, Bint, directed that the news should be utilized for propaganda.

Asen warlords stepped up to take responsibility for the assaults, grandly proclaiming that they had cut off Sanya’s financial lifeline.

This indicated that Asen had not been negligent in gathering intelligence on Sanya, and at the same time, it hinted that Sanya no longer had the funds to pay the shamans as promised.

“Did you hear? The marijuana fields went up in smoke.”

“I heard it was Asen’s work. I’ve heard that too.”

“That huge stash of drugs just vanished into thin air all at once. Can we get our money?”

“I don’t know, damn… If I had known this would happen, I would have waited a little longer.”

The shamans, hearing the propaganda from Asen, began to stir.

Though as with all propaganda, it was merely a tailored version that fit their benefit rather than the truth, humans have a natural tendency to see only what they want to see.

“Excuse me. Will you be paying the promised salaries?”

“Just a moment, Shaman. The payments will be made sequentially on the specified dates….”

“How can you prepare money now?”

“…….”

The fact that Sanya was funding itself through drug sales was information that children in the streets would know too well. But who would take the news of their cash flow being reduced to ashes positively?

Group 2 warlords asserted that they had ample funding for themselves and that there wouldn’t be any issues for a year. While most shamans believed in Sanya’s reputation, some began to withdraw from the conflict.

However, times of agitation do exist. Lies cannot overcome the truth.

Sanya successfully calmed the shamans but failed to persuade the creditors.

“I’ve heard the news. Can you definitely secure the promised goods?”

The word had reached the Orc Mafia that the cannabis they were supposed to receive had been completely burned down.

The Orcs went to Sanya to demand an explanation. Sanya asserted that once the conflict was resolved, they would restore the fields and supply cannabis soon, but the Orcs did not believe her.

“Let’s consider the deal null and void.”

The Orcs declared a breach of contract. Though they mentioned they wouldn’t urge for payment immediately due to their past relationship, they demanded even more cannabis than originally contracted from Sanya.

Sanya successfully bought time as planned. However, in exchange, she lost her trading partners.

Given the trust built up, if the tribe’s situation improved, trade would likely resume quickly. But the Orcs couldn’t afford to wait idly for Sanya to regain her strength. The Orc Mafia, who had lent her a large sum of money, set out to find new trading partners to fill the gap in their accounts.

Hassan Warlord.

Unlike Asen and Sanya, who had lost their fields and manufacturing facilities during the chaos, Hassan had a significant amount of cannabis secured. Both facilities were intact.

The Orc Mafia targeted Hassan as a new trading partner, and Nasir welcomed them with open arms.

Thus, Hassan successfully absorbed Sanya’s trading partners.

“This is the most valuable achievement our Hassan has gained from this conflict.”

“Congratulations.”

Having gained a moment of respite, Nasir beamed with a smile. With his troublesome competitors incapacitated and profits in hand, it was hard not to chuckle.

“I owe a great deal of help to you, Asud. I won’t forget this favor.”

“Someone would have done it eventually. Even without me, you would have gained, Nasir.”

“Still, your contribution is significant, no?”

“I merely passed along information.”

The Orc Mafia’s decision to terminate the contract with Sanya stemmed not only from the burned cannabis fields but also from the unbelievable rumors that had reached their ears.

“Sanya raided the Mafia’s warehouse.”

“From the start, Sanya had no intention of making payments.”

“She attempted to steal the goods and pin the blame on Asen, but failed.”

These were the propaganda I had spread through my network of spies over the last few days.

Asen was the instigator of the raid, and it was Camila who set the cannabis fields ablaze, but the victims of both incidents were the Orcs.

Infuriated Orcs scoffed at the wild accusations, but it was clear that the rhetoric had raised doubts about Sanya’s ability to fulfill her payment obligations.

It was a hasty propaganda effort, yet it was effective. Sanya’s financial lifeblood had been entirely drained. It seemed Nasir never imagined such a day would come; he expressed genuine admiration.

“I never expected such a situation would arise in that brief moment. Was this planned from the beginning?”

“No.”

“Even more surprising.”

I shared drinks with Nasir, using the crisis of Asen and Sanya as a snack. It was a famous traditional liquor from Mauritania.

“It seems the conflict won’t last long now. With Sanya’s financial power, her coffers will likely run dry within three months at most. By that time, Sanya will probably propose a truce with Asen.”

Having assessed Sanya’s financial situation through my informants, Nasir predicted the matter would conclude within three months. I, however, considered it could wrap up even sooner—within a month.

Just as Nasir finished his drink, he posed a question regarding future plans.

“Do you have a good plan to finish off Sanya?”

“Well…”

I leaned back on the sofa, lost in thought.

“In fact, the plan has been slightly modified.”

“Modified?”

“The situation is changing so rapidly, you know?”

The second group’s warlords advancing on the first group faster than anticipated was one issue, but the primary concern was the Emperor’s condition.

With a senile Emperor and a Crown Prince attempting to seize military power, Abas’ prime minister was closely monitoring the imperial family’s status, demanding that intelligence agencies expedite collecting intel.

Thus, the plan changed.

“The higher-ups wish for the conflict to end as soon as possible. Of course, you need not worry, Nasir. The framework of the operation has not changed, and Hassan would also find no benefit in an extended conflict.”

I reassured Nasir and continued.

“As planned, our goal is to eliminate the Reconnaissance Command behind Sanya. We aim to sever the link between Sanya and the Empire so that the Empire can no longer exert influence over this land.”

This was agreed upon between Nasir and me. More precisely, it was the military intelligence agency and the Hassan warlord alliance.

Leoni added one point: coaxing the Abas government to recruit Sanya, severing ties with the Empire while establishing new trading relations with Abas. If possible, we aimed to keep Asen warlords under control as well.

However, mentioning this in front of Nasir would be foolish. The future Hassan desired was the downfall of both Asen and Sanya, monopolizing all the benefits. So I kept silent.

Suddenly, I recalled a story I had heard from Lucia long ago. The demon who creates alcohol as a means of corruption supposedly entices humans with truth rather than lies.

It promises to speak only the truth, without mixing in falsehoods, but it adds that it won’t reveal all truths.

I could not ascertain whether that was true or false. Theology was Lucia’s domain, not something I needed to concern myself with.

But one fact was clear.

There are indeed those who promise to speak only the truth, yet do not share every truth.

As I wetted my lips with drink, I turned to Nasir.

“Priority must be given to dealing with the Reconnaissance Command.”

*

The Sanya warlord, who had lost trading partners with the Orc Mafia, was now seeking assistance after losing powerful weapons and ammunition sent by the Empire.

“We require His Majesty the Emperor’s benevolence. Please send resources and funds.”

His Majesty refers to Emperor Nikolai VI of the Kien Empire. Benevolence symbolizes the Emperor’s rich grace, often expressed in historical dramas with phrases like “The grace of His Majesty is immensely overwhelming.”

The Sanya warlord sought resource and fund support from the Reconnaissance Command. Providing military support to warlords had traditionally been the role of imperial intelligence units, so the Imperial Guard HQ did not intervene.

But the results obviously were not favorable.

“What? You want us to send support again? What do you mean by suddenly coming at us like this?”

The information officers at the Reconnaissance Command, upon receiving the request, were taken aback. Their reaction was understandably so.

Asen, who had received mortars from sponsors across the Mauritania continent, launched potent bombardments since the start of the conflict. Sanya, equipped with armored vehicles and shamans, was no easy opponent, but they were helpless against the firepower provided by artillery.

The bombardment occurring across the frontlines, coupled with mortar shells fired by rear infiltration teams riding vehicles alongside shamans, would send chills down Sanya’s spine. Who could possibly remain calm when shells suddenly rained down from the serene sky, striking their buildings?

Instantly after the conflict broke out, Sanya requested heavy weaponry. They were begging for whatever mortars were left, pleading for help.

The Imperial Ministry of Defense had no reason to refuse that request.

With the northern issues wrapped up, they had excess weapons. The five-year-long conflict had fattened the pockets of defense contractors, and the Empire’s arsenal was overflowing with new weapons just freshly released from production.

It wouldn’t draw attention to hand over a few outdated mortars, so the Imperial Ministry of Defense generously supplied heavy weapons: mortars, artillery, explosives, and parts and fuel to repair armored vehicles.

Where were those gifts now?

“The warehouse burned down.”

They had been completely lost.

Having not even opened the packaging, Sanya began pleading for assistance again, starting to cling to the Reconnaissance Command.

But the Reconnaissance Command was showing reluctance. While it wasn’t a burdensome task to provide arms to warlords, the logistics of sending the weapons and preparing the paperwork was no simple matter. If foreign intelligence agencies caught wind of it—

“World! Look at this! Those bastards from the Kien Empire are making trouble on the Mauritania continent!”

“What? Kien Empire again? What now?”

“So vicious, so vicious. They really see international law as a joke.”

“Our neighboring warlord is armed with Imperial Army weapons? Damn it, just stay right there! I’ll bring my troops over and—Hey, maybe I won’t take any tanks, those are too expensive. But I’ll definitely make sure to smash your heads!”

Even if I hadn’t mastered mind-reading, I felt like I could hear the thoughts of the two members of the Reconnaissance Command.

Regardless of how the situation developed, the reporting structure had to be upheld. The two members of the Reconnaissance Command submitted a report to the company. An assessment of the plans submitted from the field culminated in a direction that, given the immediate circumstances, they should seek weapons from the black market to patch things up.

“…Now what do we do, boss?”

“At this point, we head to the black market.”

From that day onward, the two members of the Reconnaissance Command began scouring the black market. Just as I had done, they’d grease the palms of military forces for weapons.

I began carefully tailing them.

“…….”

Over the span of five days, I kept my eyes on the duo. I woke up according to their schedules, went to bed when they did, and even matched my meals.

As I synchronized my living patterns with the two members of the Reconnaissance Command, I managed to acquire several bits of information: their behavioral patterns, negotiating techniques, surveillance methods, and even small habits and preferences.

The valuable intel I gathered came from rummaging through trash bags they had discarded. Amongst the food-stained bags, I discovered cigarette butts.

“Local cigarettes.”

I had already noticed when surveilling Hassan’s territory that the Reconnaissance Command members were smokers. Perhaps due to high stress, they were heavy smokers.

The essential detail was that they preferred to smoke indoors. The two members of the Reconnaissance Command had the habit of smoking inside rather than outside.

As soon as I realized this, I contacted my informants. I was curious if these yahoos smoked in safe houses as well.

“Where’s their lodging?”

-‘Sharju Apartments. It’s the nicest apartment in Sanya territory. They paid five months’ rent under a Sanya tribesman’s name for the top floor.’

“Ask the neighbors if they smell smoke.”

An informant on the scene relayed that smoke frequently wafted up from the lodging they shared.

The moment I received this tip, a brilliant idea struck me. I stealthily entered Sanya territory and infiltrated the room of the two members of the Reconnaissance Command. I then unlocked the gas pipe access.

Using the informants’ name, I secured an office in a nearby commercial building and monitored the apartment until the two members of the Reconnaissance Command returned. Meanwhile, I listened in on their conversations with a listening device set up inside.

“…….”

The parking lot of the apartment saw a van pull in, and the targets disembarked. The duo ascended the stairs, unlocking the door with keys.

-Thunk. Thunk.

The sound of heels clapping on the floor echoed loudly. Ki-en dialect laced with their regional accents began to blend into the background noise. I clicked on my recorder, transcribing their conversation as I patiently waited for the right moment.

-‘It’s ridiculously hot. Is there water?’

-‘There’s some in the fridge. Still cool.’

-‘Hand me one. I might die of thirst.’

The sound of a water bottle being opened followed. An information officer, gulping down the water, wiped his mouth and rustled as he pulled out a cigar.

The sound of a lighter striking echoed through the conversation. It was a familiar sound I had been eagerly waiting for.

I removed the headset and turned off the recorder, tidying up my equipment. Though I could hear noises outside, I paid them no mind.

After packing the office and loading the gear into the vehicle, I quietly ascended to the roof and lit a cigarette.

Taking a drag and exhaling, I looked up at the sky.

Crimson rain was falling against the backdrop of the clear desert sky.

“…….”

I blew out smoke and tossed the butt toward the burning apartment.

Even though they were enemies, I could at least offer them a cigarette on their way out.

*

When I returned to my lodging, the sky was tinted red.

I sat down before a terminal and began writing a report to the company.

[The duo from the Reconnaissance Command has been eliminated. Local authorities have concluded it was a fire caused by a gas leak. The targets were smokers and typically smoked indoors, hence it is ruled that the cause of the fire was based on eyewitness accounts.]

The assassination was successful.

Assassinations masked as accidental deaths are often employed by intelligence agencies seeking to conceal their involvement. It is an almost ideal method for killing, as it not only eliminates the target but also erases all evidence.

“…….”

As I continued composing the report, a sudden thought struck me.

The Reconnaissance Command had lost its informants. While they might suspect the possibility of assassination, they would deem it an accident due to the lack of evidence.

Yet the Reconnaissance Command had lost more than just the lives of their information officers. With the head of operations who was responsible for supporting Sanya now dead, they would halt operations unless new informants were dispatched.

How would the Reconnaissance Command react at this juncture?

Would they continue to spare no effort in supporting Sanya till the end? Or would they attempt to sever ties?

Sanya had already lost much: her funding source in cannabis, her trading partner in the Orc Mafia. Upon hearing of Asen’s prowess, even shamans began to doubt Sanya’s capabilities, with some opting out of the conflict entirely.

The weapons and ammunition, for which they had invested time and budget to secure assistance, were now reduced to ash. The attack had originated from Asen, but the location of the storage being revealed stemmed from Sanya’s security breach.

So then…

How would the Reconnaissance Command perceive Sanya, now deplete of funds, reputation, weapons, and ammo?

One thing was certain: the information officers who would make decisions on the scene were dead. Additionally, there was no Emperor present to ultimately approve any support endeavors.

“…….”

I decided the Reconnaissance Command would pull out and abandon the mission.

Rather than pouring resources into a potentially bottomless pit across the sea, they would likely focus on monitoring military training exercises happening along the eastern borders.

Intelligence work has its priorities, and budgets are limited. I would have to wait and see what would become of the Sanya warlord now fallen behind on the priority list.

As I organized my thoughts and continued drafting the report, Camila made her entrance.

She casually settled into the seat beside me and struck up a conversation.

“Did you make it through the day unscathed?”

I nodded as I typed away on the keyboard.

“Everything was fine.”

Seemingly pleased with my answer, Camila flashed a grin. Lowering her gaze, she licked her lips and continued.

“To be honest… I thought it would end in failure.”

“Failure in what?”

“Permission. You know, what I do in the intelligence agency—Frederick didn’t like it, right?”

I tilted my chair back, letting out a faint sigh.

“Even if I told you not to, you’d end up doing it anyway. If you were the kind of person who listens to my words, you wouldn’t have even returned.”

“That’s true.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“I know that too. Hehe.”

Regardless of whether I was complimenting her or not…

This girl was remarkably stubborn. How on Earth did the British intelligence agency end up with such a wayward character? British eccentricity is typically known the world over, but this was on another level…

The future of Britain: is this okay?

As I got lost in these pointless thoughts, soft fingers began to trail across my hand. Turning my head, I found Camila’s hand atop mine, locking gazes with her.

“Thank you.”

“…….”

“For helping me. And for worrying about me.”

I silently stared at her. Camila grinned bashfully, tilting her head.

As I gazed at her with quiet intensity, I readied a flick to her forehead. When she witnessed my fingers aligning, the magician yelped in surprise and pulled away. Such a remarkable reflex.

How could she be so quick? Anyone would think she was a knight rather than a magician.

With Camila bouncing back in surprise, I opened my mouth to speak, aiming my flick at her.

“Don’t get too fond of me. It’s more dangerous to be involved with someone outside the agency. Please listen to me from now on.”

“I understand!”

“Honestly, if you can’t do that…”

I stood up with Camila and leaned against the window frame.

Fresh air and starlight streamed in through the wide-open window. The Milky Way stretched across the vast desert, reflected in our eyes.

As Camila’s attention shifted from the sky back to me, she beamed once more.

“It’s not half bad.”

She said, “Stargazing together, working together.”

“Don’t get too thrilled. We’re just civil servants at the end of it all.”

“Oh, come on. Frederick enjoys our work too, right?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“Ah, it’s complicated.”

As I readied to deliver a flick toward the already giggling Camila, I reined it in. What could I even expect from a child like her?

Looking at Camila leaning against the window frame, I found her returning my gaze.

“I promise to keep my word, though. If you are ever in danger, I’ll be there to help you. Frederick will assist me, right?”

“Of course, he has to. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Hehe.”

“Why are you grinning? What’s so funny?”

“Who knows? Want to take a guess?”

“Ugh…”

A loud sigh escaped me. Instead of worrying about Britain’s future, I ought to be looking out for my own. I am no one to pass judgment.

“Don’t trust people too easily. While I’ll help you if you’re in danger, I don’t know what might happen if the situation turns messy.”

“The way you say it, I feel like you’re going to help regardless. You’ll come rushing in like a movie scene if I get caught in jail.”

“In jail? How could I possibly break someone out?” What do I look like, the Six Million Dollar Man?”

I turned away, returning to my terminal and pressing the keys with force.

The device—after transmitting the encrypted report to the company—flickered, dimming along with its lights. All records saved on the memory card vanished with the cessation of magic power.

Having completed my report, I joined Camila for stargazing. Under the bright moonlit desert night, I quietly pondered aloud.

“…Still, I’ll try my best.”

Camila giggled playfully.

Her fingers poked at my side.

As she playfully teased, she suddenly prepared to run out, and I dashed after her.

Whatever else might be said, it was crystal clear:

In that moment, chasing after Camila…

 

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