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A strange sound echoed inside the cabin. It was the cry of a Cat Beastman.

Charnoy paced around the box. In one hand, she held some grass plucked from the roadside, and in the other, she carried a flashlight. Nymph pointed the flashlight at the box, trying to communicate with the Beastman.

“Look this way…!”

The bright light swept across the front of the box, but the Beastman did not react.

“Kair! Why are you just sitting there…? Hurry and chase the light…!”

Nymph urged, but the response she got was lackluster. Kair, curled up in the box, merely looked at his friend with a pitiful expression.

At that moment, a Royal Intelligence Department Employee casually stepped between Nymph and the Beastman. He confidently declared, ‘Let me show you an expert’s skill,’ before shining a target pointer he had taken from somewhere in front of the box.

As a small dot appeared before their eyes, the Beastman began to react. Kair burst out of the box and started swatting at the moving dot with his front paw.

“Mew…!”

The Beastman mistook the laser for an animal, and the Information Officers began to play around with the expensive targeting device. Charnoy, along with Pippin and Jake, couldn’t resist joining in the laughter.

Is this really what the Intelligence Department employees do? The country is truly doomed now.

Sighing inwardly, I rubbed the back of my neck and trudged inside.

“Matt, can we start now?”

“Sure.”

—

**Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree**

—

“How’s the situation on the ground?”

“Couldn’t be better. Everything’s going smoothly.”

“I see.”

Inside the safe house filled with heaps of equipment, I sat at a table chatting with Matt.

“Could you explain what exactly is going smoothly?”

The conflict between Asen and Sanya. The Abas Information Agency had stirred up the fight between the two warlords, with the help of Nasir, led by Leoni, who was under Hassan.

The objective of the operation was to weaken the forces of Asen and Sanya.

Attacking the cooperation of Sanya with the Kien Empire would diminish the Empire Information Agency’s activities in the Mauritania region and seek partnerships to promote regional stability.

This was a project initiated by Leoni and executed by me, currently being carried on by the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team.

“You know that the relationship between Sanya and the Empire Reconnaissance Command has soured, right?”

I nodded.

“How could I not know if I was involved?”

“After the relationship with the Reconnaissance officer deteriorated, the situation of the civil war changed significantly, negatively impacting Sanya.”

Matt continued in a calm tone.

Following the death of the two Information Officers dispatched in a detachment, the Reconnaissance Command halted support to Sanya.

Instead of heavy weaponry and repair parts that burned in storage, supplies were now limited to consumables like rifle ammunition and explosives.

“If Sanya had received the heavy weaponry and repair parts they were previously supported with, they could have overwhelming power against the Asen army. But with the storage destroyed, they’ve lost the momentum to push the front line. With their funding dried up, they can no longer afford to find replacements on the black market.”

“Is there no news about additional support from the Reconnaissance officer?”

“None.”

The Empire Intelligence Unit ceased aid after a small supply of materials was delivered. They judged that a pro-Empire warlord had little chance of defeating the opposing warlord.

Thus, the Reconnaissance Command had sent over only trivial consumables to Sanya. Given their ammunition production facilities were devastated by Asen’s assault and they lost connections to drug-growing sites, it seemed the implication was to receive whatever supplies they could at this urgent point.

Of course, since no additional support would follow, this small supply of ammunition was akin to peeing on frozen feet. Sanya likely sensed that the Empire had quietly lost interest in them.

Left with no foreign governmental support, Sanya shifted to a self-sufficient path.

“Sanya’s financiers are moving in the capital.”

Matt shared intelligence acquired by the Royal Intelligence Department regarding Sanya’s movements.

“It looks like they’re seeking new sponsors.”

“Is it a new thing for warlords to scrounge for money? It’s pointless.”

I sneered at Sanya’s efforts to court the local elite for funds.

“Most people supporting warlords on the Mauritania continent tend to have centralist leanings. They don’t look kindly upon foreign influences in this land.”

In summary, Mauritania centralism. This is also the reason why wealthy Wahhabis in the Middle East support Al-Qaeda (AQ).

Although they are mocked for wiping the wealthy’s rear with the Quran, the financial backing of local tycoons has significantly contributed to the sustained activities of extremist terrorist groups in the Middle East for over two decades. Such support sometimes occurs under governmental direction, with the Iranian Revolutionary Guards, for example, backing Hezbollah and Hamas.

It’s peculiar that a Shia state like Iran supports the Sunni terrorist group Hamas, but it makes sense when viewed through the lens of the Sunni-Shia conflict—what unites them is the common enemy: Israel.

Israel, which sits in Jerusalem and does not hesitate to go to war with Islamic states in the Middle East, is indeed a thorn in the Iranian government’s side.

However, unlike the Middle East, there’s no public enemy in the Mauritania continent. All states venerate Al-Yabd as their state religion, and the cult has not established a foothold here, meaning there aren’t significant religious conflict causes aside from sectarian strife.

In that sense, Sanya’s decision to try and borrow money from the wealthy supporting Mauritanian centralism can be deemed a foolish move since those individuals despise groups like Sanya that are eager to seek help from foreign powers.

There’s even the Asen warlord, fighting against Sanya, who adheres to Mauritania centralism.

Who in the world would sponsor a warlord attacking their own side? To even appeal to local sponsors is simply a foolish idea.

I analyzed the battlefield situation based on Sanya’s decisions.

“It seems Sanya is quite desperate. To be doing things they usually wouldn’t, they must be in a really bad position now.”

“With the cessation of ammunition and drug production, if they can’t find a way to raise money, they will have to get loans.”

Matt handed me a list of the financiers currently active in the capital. While I reviewed the materials, he changed the subject.

“While Sanya is in a precarious position, I don’t think Asen will win. Sanya recently lost a lot of troops in the initial battles where they utilized shamans and armored units.”

“The Mauritania centralist warlord should have an easier time with troop replenishment. Of course, recruiting and training soldiers will require enormous funds, but Asen still has the capacity to manage increased troop levels. Sanya is the one who lost drug plantations and lost their sources, unlike Asen.”

In fact, the 2nd group of warlords is the one in dire straits.

I planned to contact the 1st group of warlords through my network still maintained with Hassan Warlord. Leoni wanted both the 1st and 2nd groups to come under Abas’s control, if the situation permitted.

I’m also considering ways to entice the 2nd group to our side, but it’s tricky as I have no communication channels with them and my information network doesn’t cover them, so I can hardly attempt negotiations.

“Asen seems to be holding their ground on the front reasonably well. Although many shamans from Sanya have drifted away, they still maintain a large-scale army.”

“Sanya’s elite guard is still intact, so if they clash with another elite unit, Sanya will likely have the upper hand. Even if losing the largest offensive force of the shamans is a painful loss, the armored units are still present.”

Matt shared some additional information regarding Sanya. This was also intelligence about Sanya.

“By the way, it seems Sanya has taken a shine to shamans and is recruiting them in a new way.”

“Shamans? Given their shortage of funds, I can’t imagine they can hire as many as before.”

“It seems they’re shifting to a strategy utilizing a smaller elite.”

“Oh, I see.”

I nodded and opened my mouth.

“We might find something if we take a look at the recruiters. Information on other recruiters, their locations, and where the recruited shamans gather.”

“That’s right.”

“You mean we should kidnap them?”

“Would you really not think about doing that?”

“Are you serious?”

Of course, we should!

Laying out a map on the table, Matt took a pen and marked a certain point.

He tapped the map with a red pen while looking at me.

“Sanya’s recruiters are in the provinces gathering shamans. They’re operating with the refugee camp at its center. And just two days ago, one of Sanya’s middle recruiters appeared here.”

I checked the refugee camp that Matt had marked. Naturally, curses slipped from my lips.

“Oh, hell….”

“What’s the matter?”

“This camp. It’s the place my colleagues were scheduled to visit.”

The refugee camp was the same place Kair, Lucia, and Francesca had scheduled to visit.

Sanya’s recruiter was active right there.

As I explained the situation, Matt put down the pen and asked me a question with a serious glint in his eyes.

“The Saint is going to work at this camp?”

“It’s a relief effort. The healing priests from the capital will also be there. Of course, the holy knights who arrived with her will provide security.”

“When will they arrive?”

“Let me see….”

I checked the time.

“They left before arriving at the cabin, so they should reach the camp by tomorrow morning at the latest. The actual relief efforts will start two days from now.”

“We need to move first.”

Matt turned his head toward the operations team.

“Everyone, focus. Pack your gear and prepare the vehicles. We’re moving out soon.”

—

The convoy that left the cabin emerged onto a busy road. It was a minivan with heavily tinted windows.

We split into three minivans to avoid checkpoints and crossed the border, heading straight to the refugee camp.

In the rear vehicle, Matt briefed over the radio.

“Yunus Abdulla Mohammed. He’s an officer of the Sanya Warlord recruiting troops at the camp. Today’s objective is to kidnap him and transport him back to the cabin.”

He told them to ask any questions they had now. Battalion Leader Bill’s voice came through the radio.

-‘We need to tail the officer; who are we sending?’

“Mojo and Sadif will go. Plus, Jahir.”

Matt deployed three Information Officers assigned to the operations team. They were Abas-born staff with parents who immigrated from the Mauritania continent.

“Jake, you should also go. The more people, the better.”

“Yes, sir.”

I decided to send Jake. Jake was Abas with Mauritania roots, and thanks to inheriting his family’s blood, he bore a striking resemblance to the locals.

Dressed in traditional clothing purchased from a shop near the border, the Information Officers quickly changed into their outfits. It was hard to distinguish them from locals, just by changing their clothes.

“Do you speak Mauritania dialect?”

“Of course! What do you take me for?”

Jake grinned as he answered. I decided to run a simple test to see if the guy could actually speak the Mauritania common tongue.

To my surprise, Jake passed the test without any issues. He even conversed in the local dialect, and when I asked where he learned it, he simply responded that his grandmother had taught him when he was little.

Staring at Jake with wide eyes, the tan-haired punk revealed his noodle-like teeth in a grin.

“There was no one in the Special Forces who could outmatch me in Mauritania language skills. I was one of the first chosen because I could speak the local dialect.”

“Enough bragging…. Just put your clothes on.”

The Information Officers fluent in the Mauritania common language and local dialect finished their transformation and grabbed their gear. Since they’d be operating within the refugee camp, their weapons were limited to self-defense: a pistol and a knife.

The four disguised Information Officers disembarked seven kilometers west of the refugee camp.

Before they got out, Matt explained the situation to them.

“If anything goes wrong, Frederick will extract you from the scene.”

“Understood.”

“Can you disable the monitoring equipment of the Peacekeeping Force at the camp?”

“That seems difficult. Getting into their security facilities isn’t an easy task.”

“Then let’s be careful not to leave any traces.”

Four information officers blended into the refugee crowd as they entered the camp.

The vans that dropped them off began to circle around outside the camp, and I used my identity as Camila’s colleague to slip inside.

“Please show your identification.”

“I am Colonel Frederick Nostrim.”

“Oh, Colonel. We received word of your arrival. What is the purpose of your visit?”

“I need to check a few things before the Saint arrives. It’s a simple matter.”

“Please, come in.”

As I passed through the checkpoint with the guidance of the Peacekeeping Force, I caught a glance at Jake as he was moving ahead of me.

I nodded, and Jake turned his gaze and disappeared into the camp.

*

Finding the recruiter for the Sanya Warlord in the refugee camp was a breeze, especially since two information agencies were combing through it.

Thanks to that, surveillance was a piece of cake.

“I see Yunus.”

The observer, with half his face covered by a scarf, spoke into his sleeve. The target was at the end of the line of sight of a Royal Intelligence Department officer.

The Sanya Warlord’s operative was having tea with a local man at what could only awkwardly be described as a café.

The two men sat at a table laid out on the street, engaged in a discreet conversation. I used my binoculars to identify the recruiter and the local’s features.

“Yunus Abdulla Mohammed. Confirmed. Who is he speaking with?”

– “Black hair and brown eyes. Male of conscription age. Potential recruit.”

Under the pretext of checking security for the Saint’s safety, I climbed the watchtower, holding the binoculars and radio as I surveyed the site.

The Royal Intelligence officer who had followed me was loitering near a tent, his face obscured by a hood. Another officer, stationed nearby, exchanged places with him.

The officer positioned near the recruiter concealed eavesdropping equipment under his placed hat. Technicians waiting in the van quickly began translating the conversation between the two locals.

– “The target has stood up with the local man. They seem to be moving.”

Matt, who was waiting outside the camp, grabbed the radio.

“Where are they heading?”

– “It looks like they are heading outside. A handler, presumed to be from the Sanya Warlord’s side, is accompanying the local man towards the checkpoint.”

“I can see him from here. A man wearing a dark brown Dervish and a white coat is currently passing through the north checkpoint.”

“I’ll follow them.”

The van circling the camp began to tail the warlord’s operative and the local man as they exited.

The recruiter led the local into a nearby house. Kair, who expertly jumped onto the roof, snapped photos with the Magic Imaging Equipment. Thanks to this, we discovered that there were 14 men gathered inside that house.

Even as the recruited local was ushered towards the city, Yunus did not stray from his spot. He casually drank his tea and soon welcomed another local brought in by another man.

As I watched the scene through my binoculars, I concluded,

“Yunus has made contact with a new figure. Another male of conscription age. There’s one more local accompanying him, and it seems they might be the Sanya recruiter. He looks like a low-level operative.”

As expected, Yunus was a middle manager. Positioned at the edge of the refugee camp, he was constantly in contact with local people.

I observed Sanya’s recruitment methods. Operatives presumed to be low-level recruiters wandered the camp, bringing in refugees, while Yunus verified if the refugees were worth taking in, giving them a small amount of money, and sending them out of the camp.

The entire process was carried out through a meticulous division of labor. The primary recruiter who brought in people, the manager who verified them, and the transporters who escorted the recruits from the camp to a nearby city, etc.

About six operatives from the Sanya warlord’s faction were active in the camp. The one overseeing the recruitment was Yunus.

I put down the binoculars and muttered,

“Indeed, Yunus is the mastermind.”

– “Not the real mastermind, though. There’s a senior officer overseeing the shaman recruitment separately.”

Bill, the sub-team leader of the operations team, responded over the radio. He emphasized that while Yunus might not be a high-ranking officer, there was a necessity to secure him.

– “Despite being a middle manager, it’s true he knows more than the low-level operatives. Interrogating Yunus will open a path to the higher-ups.”

Listening to Bill, I silently nodded.

The Royal Intelligence employees regarded Sanya’s recruitment from the refugee camp as a refreshing method, but to me, it was just a common tactic used by warlords. The first places Al-Qaeda or the Taliban look to recruit suicide bombers are refugee camps.

Of course, in this area, it might indeed be a fresh approach. Sanya was the first to come up with the idea of recruiting soldiers from a refugee camp.

– “A male of conscription age. Currently moving with the warlord recruiter. Heading north.”

The Royal Intelligence employee confirmed the sighting of the low-level recruiter and a refugee exiting the camp. They passed through the northern checkpoint and left the camp.

– “The northern checkpoint seems to be a favored route for Sanya’s recruiters. Shall we try to abduct the target there?”

– “Consider it. By the way, what is Yunus doing?”

I answered into the radio.

“Still drinking tea.”

Yunus, the middle recruiter, had not left his spot once. When his tea cooled, he signaled a waiter to warm it back up, and when the cup was empty, he ordered a new one.

He even lit a cigarette while waiting for the tea to come, looking incredibly relaxed. It seemed this wasn’t his first time doing this.

Four information officers disguised as refugees and one military official at the watchtower were keeping a watchful eye on Yunus.

Just then, after more than ten hours of drinking tea, Yunus finally began to get up.

Finally, he moves.

I didn’t take my eyes off the binoculars and reported via radio.

“Yunus is on the move. All stationed employees should follow him.”

– “Acknowledged. We’re following him now.”

The Royal Intelligence employee began to chase after the target who exited the teahouse.

The surveillance proceeded according to plan.

The information officer carefully trailed the target, maintaining a cautious distance. When the target turned a corner, the officer suddenly took a straight path and exited the scene, while a new officer took over to continue the tracking.

The four information officers kept in touch through the radio to maintain their surveillance. Various voices of the staff overlapped over the radio.

– “Yunus is moving to sector 42-2 east.”

– “Zahir is in position. Proceed straight to exit.”

– “Taking a left at sector 18-6.”

– “He’s starting down the stairs, but is there someone below?”

– “It’s me.”

Jake’s voice came through the radio. I turned my binoculars to focus on sector 18.

Jake, hiding his blond hair under a Taj, was waiting at the foot of the stairs. He exchanged glances with a Royal Intelligence officer passing by before immediately beginning to follow Yunus.

I marked the recruiter’s movements on the unfolded map. After finishing his recruitment near the north gate, Yunus was moving southeast.

Matt and Bill analyzed that there was a Sanya safe house in the southeastern area of the refugee camp.

– “Given the activity range of the guy who’s not leaving the camp, there should be a safe house within the camp. We need to follow him and find out.”

– “Are you planning to abduct him there? If a kidnapping occurs in a refugee camp, there’ll be a lot of talking afterward.”

– “I’ve done kidnappings right in the middle of urban areas; what’s the problem? If we have no means to draw him out of the camp, we should just go in and bring him back.”

“Yeah.”

While I held the binoculars and listened to the radio, I spoke up, and Matt, who was communicating with Bill, chimed in.

– “What’s going on?”

“What is he doing right now?”

My gaze was towards sector 18.

Through the binoculars, I saw Yunus and Jake, when suddenly Jake started acting out of the blue. Even though it wasn’t time to switch, Jake stopped the pursuit and changed direction.

I seized the radio and shouted urgently.

“Jake. Respond.”

– “……”

“What are you doing? Why are you suddenly backing out—”

At that moment, a response came through the radio.

– “We’ve been spotted.”

“…What?”

– “We’ve been detected. Ceasing operations and will depart to the rendezvous point.”

I stared blankly at the radio.

*

After the communication, the operation was terminated.

The deployed information officers entered a state of radio silence to prevent eavesdropping.

The officers exited the camp via different routes and regrouped at the agreed-upon location before boarding the waiting van to head to the safe house.

Back in the safe house.

I found myself face to face with Jake.

“What happened?”

I shot out the question.

“Why did you suddenly leave the scene without reporting? What do you mean you were spotted?”

“……”

Jake sat silently at the table. Matt and Bill were having serious discussions with the information officers who had been deployed, while Pippin looked worried, caressing her neck.

“To put it simply, we were noticed. Our eyes met.”

After a while of silence, Jake finally spoke. I stared at him in disbelief as I leaned on the table.

“You met eyes with the target. You stopped pursuing just because of that?”

As someone who operates surveillance, the situations that send chills down one’s spine vary.

The monitored subject might suddenly pick up their pace, the trail could get tangled, resulting in a loss of the target, or there are times when eyes meet.

However, just because something unexpected happens doesn’t mean one must necessarily halt a pursuit. An information officer might have simply panicked and misinterpreted the situation. Therefore, all intelligence agencies recommend adhering to the judgment of the onsite commander.

I assumed that this situation stemmed from Jake’s misunderstanding.

But something felt different.

“No, the target didn’t make eye contact with me. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being followed.”

“…Then?”

“The one I made eye contact with was someone else.”

“…….”

“I know the person.”

With a tense expression, Jake added,

“…It was Ibrahim. A soldier I used to work with.”

Jake said.

“What’s he doing? If he’s a soldier, is he from Patalia or Lushan?”

“Neither of those. He’s with a cult.”

“A cult?”

Jake nodded. He spoke quietly.

“I remember he was part of the Order of the Holy Knights, Unit 92541.”

“…92541?”

At the sound of that voice, I shifted my gaze. Matt, who was in conversation with Bill, was now staring at us.

With quite a serious expression.

“Hey. Are you really sure the person you made eye contact with is serving in Unit 92541? Are you certain?”

“I’m sure. We worked on missions together during the deployment; there’s no way I could forget. I even have a photo.”

“Wait.”

I interjected into their discussion.

“What is this Unit 92541, that everyone’s reacting so strongly?”

The answer to that question came from a Quasi-Military Operative of the Royal Intelligence Department.

“Unit 92541. That’s a special purpose unit operating under the Order of the Holy Knights.”

“Special forces, you say?”

“It’s not just any special forces.”

Matt added.

“It’s an assassination unit that kills cultists.”

 

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