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A master of spy fiction, John le Carré, once a prominent information officer in the British SIS, left behind a thought through his works.

Long ago, in a distant past that he himself cannot even recall, he lived with the fear that the enemy he created might appear before him and judge him.

Fear is a chronic disease in the information industry.

Operatives who soared through the field, investigators handling countless spies, commanders leading numerous employees, and department heads commanding dozens of teams are all no exceptions.

I’m no different.

“……”

Sometimes, really sometimes, I entertain such thoughts.

What if one of the information agents under my responsibility, succumbing to pressure or persuasion, has betrayed me?

Perhaps it’s because I’ve seen seniors who ended their careers due to the betrayal of an informant.

Or could it be that the phone call I had with my colleague, who was captured by the Chinese after saying he was going to meet an informant, was our last conversation?

A personal trauma derived from experience, or maybe just pointless delusions.

There’s no way for me to know which of the two caused this sudden imagination that has surfaced countless times over the years.

But when I saw the words left by a novelist who was also a renowned information officer of an era, I found it hard to turn the page.

Even now, it was like that.

“…Please sit down.”

“……”

“You need to talk to me, right?”

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

Looking back, I was quite distanced from cigarettes.

Even when delinquent students would gather in the playground at night, or when a drunken classmate would stumble out of a soju house and flash a peace sign.

I’ve only ever had the experience of accepting and smoking a cigarette that someone offered me once in my entire life.

It was probably during my training period. The instructor came over and told me to go out on leave. It was barely half a day after we finished our shooting evaluation. Perhaps grades had already come out; the instructor mentioned I had the highest score among the trainees and told me to enjoy the fresh air before coming back.

Someone visited me that day. I believe it was my uncle.

No, it definitely was my uncle. The news of his entering the intelligence service reached my mom a week after my training ended.

I don’t remember our conversation, but I do recall snatching a cigarette from him.

Why did I do that?

The moment I smell it, I think of the scent that lingered when my father would come home and take off his shoes after work.

I disliked it so much.

A sharp aftertaste snapped me out of my thoughts, and as I exhaled the hazy smoke, I tapped the cigarette against the ashtray.

“Ha….”

Having smoked in silence for a while, I finally broke the silence with a sigh.

“You said you had something to talk about?”

“……”

Francesca nodded.

I could guess what it was, but given her atmosphere, it seemed like our conversation would be quite lengthy.

It likely wouldn’t lead to anything good, so I grabbed a new cigarette.

“Let’s hear it.”

I set the lighter down, taking a deep drag and began to speak. As is often the case in life, the tough part is just starting—once you get going, the conversation flows quickly.

Francesca’s lips parted.

“You’re taking the Hero to the Necropolis?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“From a phone call.”

She meant she overheard the conversation I had with Camila.

The thought of possible wiretapping crossed my mind, but that hypothesis was quickly discarded. Although I had called her on a regular mobile phone, the line itself was secure; it was a private line I arranged for her.

My brain started racing.

The time I called Camila was right after I met Veronica. Since it was nearing sunset, Camila must have been returning from the operation to cleanse the No Man’s Land of monsters. I suddenly recalled the engine sounds blending into static.

It seemed that Francesca had been nearby at that time.

As far as I know, Camila has a habit of sitting next to someone she knows whenever she gets into a vehicle. It’s her routine to look for someone to chat with to avoid being bored, even for a moment.

So, it was unavoidable that Francesca could overhear the conversation.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Having concluded my thoughts, I openly acknowledged it.

There was no reason to lie; given Francesca’s nature, she wouldn’t act without certainty. So there was no need, nor any benefit, to hiding it.

The response came promptly.

“Why?”

Francesca seemed somewhat confused. Her face and voice were unchanged, yet her fingers, resting on her knees, were fidgeting.

Feigning calmness, and putting on a mask of composure, she continued speaking.

“I asked why you’re taking the Hero to the Necropolis, not me?”

“……”

With a calm tone and somber gaze.

Against the backdrop of the deep night sky, her shimmering purple eyes were fixed on me, as smoke wafted gently from between my lips. I glanced into her eyes as I questioned.

“Is there a reason why that shouldn’t be the case?”

Her soft, pink lips pursed tightly, and Francesca fell silent.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, I brushed off the ash and explained further.

“I can’t provide specific details. Just know it’s related to a cult issue. I can’t tell you anything more.”

“……”

“Was that clear enough for you?”

I asked for confirmation, but truthfully, it was just a courteous question.

“……”

Francesca seemed thoroughly at a loss.

I had no idea why she was asking such questions so abruptly, but since I hinted that it was hard to explain, given her personality, she would probably come to understand.

If Leoni hears this, I’m sure I’ll get a reprimand for a security breach. I should keep her quiet and send her back. Francesca isn’t someone so clueless about the world either, so she should back off here.

Normally, that would have been the case.

“…Why?”

Francesca’s lips parted.

“…Why are you taking the Hero? Why not me?”

Her voice, which had been calm until just moments ago, now trembled slightly.

Cracks began to show in the facade of calm she’d maintained. Now she stared at me with a stern expression.

“Do you doubt me?”

Francesca asked. She was questioning whether I trusted her.

I replied “no.”

“Why would I? If I can’t trust you, who else can I trust? I’m merely saying your identity has been exposed, so it’s best to step back for a while.”

“……”

“Isn’t the Abyssal Devourer involved? I heard there’s an exile attached to it who possesses the ability to see through disguises. How can I take you with me?”

I presented a sufficiently convincing argument.

It wasn’t merely idle talk; it was a clear fact. Her identity has been exposed, and a mystic capable of unveiling disguises has emerged. As a member of the Magic Tower, she…

The news of the infiltration into the Necropolis must have spread like wildfire throughout the entire city by now.

If Francesca gets caught again infiltrating the Necropolis, then there’s truly no way out. I have no idea what to do, and neither does the Military Intelligence Agency. It’s a principle that any Information Officer whose identity is exposed must immediately cease all operations and return home, never again able to work in the same area. This holds true for every information agency.

However, it seems that even this reasoning failed to convince Francesca. She still stood her ground, refusing to back down.

At this point, my curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. Why was Francesca behaving this way all of a sudden?

The answer to my question came from her lips.

“…It’s because of the saint, isn’t it? That’s why you’re going to the Necropolis.”

“Huh?”

An absentminded voice slipped out. Her unexpected words caught me off guard, and I found myself inadvertently responding.

“Well, that….”

Of course, I was going there because it concerned Lucia’s safety. The cultist Al Kair, who had stolen the saint’s blood, might very well be connected to Al-Yabd, the greatest religion on the Mauritania Continent.

Of course, I couldn’t share this information with her. The source of the intelligence was internal documents from the Inquisition. If news got out that their internal data was leaking, there would be more than a few people in trouble.

How could I explain this while protecting the source and convincing her? I was momentarily lost in thought.

Francesca suddenly expressed a hasty concern.

“The work is secondary! You’re really just worried about Saint Lucia, aren’t you?”

“…….”

I blinked in surprise at Francesca’s insistence. Could it really be interpreted that way?

It wasn’t entirely incorrect, but given how people often twist words, her phrasing felt peculiar.

As I sensed that the situation was subtly shifting, I looked at her with an anxious expression. Francesca brushed her hair back and, with a sigh that seemed to release her frustration, spoke up.

“Colonel, I’m going to ask you three things.”

“Uh, sure. Go ahead.”

With an upbeat tone, Francesca coldly launched her questions, and the chilly undertone made me uneasy.

The first question began.

“What exactly is your relationship with Saint Lucia?”

“…….”

Her inquiry about my relationship with Lucia filled me with a sense of urgency. If I stayed silent, I could feel the atmosphere turning sour.

I hurriedly answered.

“She’s my colleague. Just like you and me.”

“…….”

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Francesca’s expression darkened slightly, as if she were upset.

I asked if something was wrong, but she didn’t respond and moved on to her next question.

“What’s your connection with the Hero?”

With her second question, Francesca inquired about my relationship with Camila.

The intent behind that question was crystal clear, and I couldn’t hide my disbelief.

“Wait, what kind of question is that? What are you driving at?”

“Is it difficult to answer?”

Actually, it wasn’t, but I bit my tongue.

Thinking back, this wasn’t the first time Francesca had asked such questions. Didn’t she also inquire about my relationship with Lucia back in the Necropolis? Moreover, come to think of it, she had asked about my relationship with Camila before, right after the advisor and his family sought asylum in the Kien Empire.

I had no clue what had piqued her interest, but I was probably overthinking it. She came in with a grave demeanor, and I thought something serious had happened. But all she ended up being curious about was my relationships with women.

Honestly, it was both ridiculous and frustrating. However, I thought it was best to clear up any misunderstandings first.

I answered as honestly as I could.

“She’s just a colleague.”

“…Just like Saint Lucia?”

“Ah, well, not exactly. More like a friend…?”

“……”

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re friends with Joaquin, aren’t you?”

In truth, Francesca’s relationship with Joaquin was more of acquaintanceship than friendship, but I couldn’t think of another analogy.

Having a romantic partner was no big deal. No matter how much you’re dating someone, grown-ups can’t be stopped from forming friendships with others, can they? I thought it was odd for Francesca to press me on this kind of matter.

But regardless of my thoughts, Francesca’s scrutinizing gaze didn’t falter. Displaying an overt sense of discomfort, she propped her chin with her hand, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.

“…This is my last question.”

She signaled that she was about to ask the third one.

I braced myself for the answer. I anticipated that her final question would be about my relationship with Veronica.

And I was right on the money.

“What’s your relationship with your sister?”

Well, of course.

Letting out a slight sigh, I finally spoke.

“We’re bound in a contract. Also, you’re like a sister to Lucia.”

That was my way of indirectly explaining that she was an Information Agent. With that, I managed to safely pass the last question.

With all her curiosities finally addressed, I started to get up and leave. I didn’t know why Francesca was questioning me about my love life, but right now, I had no luxury to worry about that.

Now it was just a matter of getting her to keep quiet and then send her back. Since I didn’t know the departure date of the ship that would take us to infiltrate the Necropolis, I had to prepare in advance so we could leave at any moment.

I hurriedly tidied up and tried to send Francesca away.

But…

Something felt off.

“Ah… you said contract relationship?”

Her voice slipped out through her pale pink lips. It had a frostiness akin to the cold of early spring.

Francesca, with her hand down, crossed her legs. Her arms draped lazily over the chair as she bore a not-so-charming smile.

“A contract relationship… sisterhood…”

Francesca lowered her gaze and started to murmur to herself. The low, murky tone of her voice created an unusual atmosphere.

Suddenly, the anxious premonition made me shift my gaze back in her direction just in time.

With her violet eyes lifted, Francesca smirked and said with a tone filled with amusement.

“Are you having fun sneaking around with my sister behind my back?”

 

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