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I’ve had my share of experiences with interrogations and torture. The Information Agency carries out various programs for training and evaluation, including courses aimed at resisting torture.

However, questioning by a woman is a little more intense and has a strangely venomous edge compared to an investigator or disciplinary instructor’s interrogation. In front of the heated Francesca, I found it hard to open my mouth.

“…….”

When asked if I had an affair with the sister, anyone’s face would flush with heat. Especially if the person in question had actually committed such an act.

A heavy silence followed, and Francesca stared at my face for a while without uttering a word. She just gazed at me silently.

Then, a short voice slipped through her lips.

“…Pfft.”

Suddenly, Francesca bent her head and stifled a laugh. It was a playful smile that tried to conceal the laughter threatening to bubble out.

As she struggled to hold back her laughter, she swept aside her disheveled hair. The pallid face that had been cold was nowhere to be seen; warmth bloomed on her cheeks, igniting a rosy glow. Blowing air to cool her flushed face, Francesca fanned herself repeatedly, and only then was I convinced.

This woman is teasing me again.

To punctuate that certainty, Francesca, wiping the moisture from the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, spoke in a sweet voice.

“Ahaha, I’m sorry, Colonel. I completely forgot I was just teasing you… I got a bit too serious. Were you surprised?”

“Uh….”

As a chuckle escaped my lips, Francesca’s expression brightened. She looked like someone who had just woken from a deep sleep, shaking off the fatigue.

“I’ve been rude. I only meant to tease you once, but your reaction was just too amusing!”

Francesca laughed heartily, scooping up her own words.

I was slightly bewildered, but I could vaguely sense she was vicariously scolding me. Still, the timing and precision with which she had inquired about Veronica and my relationship left me momentarily speechless.

I was worried that Veronica might have carelessly let slip something about our relationship to Francesca. Fortunately, it seemed my fears were unfounded.

She had merely intended to poke fun at me.

With a pleasant smile, Francesca leaned back against her chair and acknowledged it readily.

“When I asked about your relationship with Saint Lucia, you stumbled. And you got flustered when I asked about your connection with the hero. So, I was curious if you’d get even more flustered if I brought up your sister… and lo and behold, what an entertaining reaction it turned out to be!”

“…Seriously. Was that all just to see my reaction?”

“Hm- it wouldn’t be just that… Actually, your sister has been bragging a lot about you.”

“What kind of bragging?”

“She came here on the Holy See’s orders, but instead of focusing on her work, she went to meet you and Saint Lucia. And here I am, stuck in the office, and she suddenly comes back to brag about it… naturally, it made me a bit sulky.”

So to summarize.

She can’t come and go freely because of her official duties and the vampire incident, and suddenly Veronica shows up bragging about her joyride with me, and then she takes it out on me… is that it?

“…Huh.”

I could only let out a hollow laugh, utterly dumbfounded.

Why in the world did that weirdo Veronica choose to brag to Francesca? While pondering that thought, Francesca’s voice continued.

“Not only was I already uncomfortable because of Saint Lucia, but with your sister doing that… how do you think I felt? I consider this a reasonable defense. What do you think, Colonel?”

“No, I told you, there’s nothing going on with Lucia…”

“You risked your life, yet you say there’s nothing? Hm….”

Even as she said that, she didn’t particularly seem suspicious of the relationship between Lucia and me. Rather, her expressive face was replete with mischief, clearly showing her intent to tease me further.

“Oh dear….”

Sisters really can’t get enough of wanting to devour me, can they? Such cunning women. How did I find myself in the sights of these ladies?

As I relaxed, a melancholic sensation began to creep in.

Letting out a sigh with a glum expression, Francesca approached me.

Her slender fingers wrapped around my chin and cheek. Gently raising my face, she…

*Peck.*

Placed her soft lips lightly against my forehead.

“Don’t get hurt, and come back safe. I’ll be waiting. Just don’t keep me waiting too long, okay?”

Francesca added with a radiant smile.

“You know, losing out on something when you miss the right timing makes it far less enjoyable.”

—

Episode 17 – The Tree that Drinks Blood

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There is a suitable time for everything. If you miss the moment, the fun diminishes.

It was a cryptic statement, but I had no way of discerning what it meant. I asked her what mischief she was planning, but Francesca did not disclose her answer.

Instead, she left behind a peculiar phrase suggesting I should “look forward to it.”

“…….”

“Is something troubling you? Your expression seems dark.”

“It’s nothing, Lucia.”

I brushed aside Lucia’s question. It wasn’t an enlightening response, so she tilted her head in suspicion, but she didn’t push for an answer and diverted her attention.

After gathering the sheets filled with medical jargon, someone from the convent came to take them over.

The nun graciously took the documents presented by the saint, disinfected her hands, then pulled out disposable gloves and a mask, raising her voice.

“Next, please!”

Then, one side of the tent was opened. A group of refugees, guided by an interpreter from the relief organization, entered and took their seats. The order of the cult’s clerics checked the condition of the refugees, sorted the patients, and promptly began their divine healings.

“Oh dear, everyone is quite busy.”

As I stepped out of the tent, I muttered softly.

Lucia, bending slightly as she exited, replied.

“To people whose survival is the most pressing concern, hygiene is just a secondary issue. That’s why the number of patients is bound to overflow.”

Though the convent and international organizations teamed up to treat the refugees, the number of patients showed no signs of diminishing.

It was not solely due to the overflowing number of refugees or the unsanitary conditions of the camps. Instead, a deeper, more fundamental issue had been identified as the cause.

Like in many developing nations or impoverished countries, the overall healthcare system on the Mauritania Continent was in an abysmal state. Wells, rivers, and lakes teemed with parasites and bacteria, and there was a lack of individuals with secondary education, leading to a general ignorance of sanitation.

To actually develop a healthcare system, there should be constant efforts and willingness for improvement from both the private and government sectors. Yet, piglets who pocket bribes have taken their seats at the table, making proper functioning of hospitals virtually impossible. In a nation already riddled with issues, public health improvement efforts always fell by the wayside. To make matters worse, years of civil wars instigated by central government and local warlords had been ongoing everywhere, rendering the Mauritania Continent’s deficient medical system long overdue for a death sentence.

The massive casualties caused by civil wars, the victims of monsters, patients wandering the streets without access to viable hospitals… Even in neighborhoods already overflowing with patients, the arrival of the rainy season created the perfect environment for infectious diseases to spread, resulting in wailing echoing through every alley and home.

Without facilities where proper treatment could be administered, patients would suffer regardless of whether they had money. However, rumors spread that a saint had come from abroad to treat patients for free.

Under such circumstances, it was only natural what choices the patients or their families would make.

About a week ago, intelligence reports rolled in that patients had begun relocating from all over the continent.

Embassies, consulates, overseas branches of corporations, industrial parks, etc. Noticing the movements of expatriates and local communities, various foreign ministries rushed to inform me of the impending arrival of “large-scale refugees,” and soon it became a reality.

“…….”

A man dragging his emaciated legs with bones protruding through torn fabric, an elderly person descending from an ambulance on a stretcher, a wailing child and helpless parents, a little one squatting on the stairs, merely blinking in confusion.

Surveying the refugees strewn about the camp, I was left in shocked disbelief. While the sheer number of patients was staggering, an even larger issue was at play.

“This chaos isn’t limited to just here, is it?”

Lucia nodded silently.

“Yes, other camps are reporting similar situations.”

“…….”

The foreign ministries and local governments could easily find out where Lucia was headed. There was no need to mobilize the Information Agency; diplomats sent by the World Union could simply visit the representatives of the convent or send government officials to inquire.

But the refugees lacked such information. Families, taking their patients along, had only heard rumors shared among themselves and sought out the refugee camps where they believed the saint might be.

The result was the scene we were witnessing in the camp now.

“…This is outrageous.”

I massaged the back of my neck while muttering curses. Lucia, who was surveying the scene, furrowed her beautiful brow.

“I can understand the patients’ feelings. They must grasp at straws. Some have traveled a long way just for treatment. Still, this….”

“…Is somewhat serious?”

“Seriously, it’s not just ‘somewhat.'”

“…….”

The influx of patients into the camps naturally increased the burden on healers and medical staff. This had been somewhat anticipated since the moment the information about the patients’ migration had appeared on our networks, so the order of the convent and the relief organizations had managed enough preparation.

However, what we hadn’t anticipated was the illnesses the patients brought with them.

Some families came to the camp to use the well knowing they carried cholera. Others quietly entered the camp, fearing they would be killed if soldiers discovered they were infectious. They knew there was something wrong with their conditions but mingled with others until they could get isolated from the crowd…

Due to these myriad reasons, many refugee camps were facing an unanticipated pandemic.

Watching the scene of peacekeeping soldiers in protective gear controlling patients alongside medical staff, I was suddenly approached by a group that looked like a KKK chapter.

“Saint!”

As it turned out, they were members of the Knights Order equipped for chemical and biological defense.

“I’m truly sorry to say this, but… you cannot be here right now. Please, quickly move to a safe area.”

“With patients around, how could I possibly leave? I just stepped out for a moment to take some fresh air. I will return shortly.”

“Still….”

The knights seemed quite worried that Lucia might contract the infectious disease. Feeling sorry for the flustered men, I suggested we persuade Lucia to move, and this time she didn’t raise any objections.

The knights quietly expressed their gratitude as I departed, foldings their hands together. As I waved to them, they swiftly gathered their equipment and headed back to the refugees.

It was a strange sight to see the religious devotees handling other duties while leaving the saint behind, but this had been the result of Lucia seeking me out more frequently of late.

To be precise, it was her calls that had increased. It was less about her visiting someone and more about her summoning me for various matters. Moreover, given how busy Lucia was, it was more convenient for both of us if I came to her.

Additionally, stopping by to take a break while finding decent information was often a possibility, so I had a plausible excuse whenever Pippin or Jake grumbled about “why I was taking time off to hang out alone.”

Of course, the conversations I had with Lucia mostly consisted of trivial chatter—meaning most of our exchanges were more about casual banter rather than information sharing.

I understand that it’s nice to take a break, but I was slightly puzzled as to why Lucia, who was struggling with a heavy workload, would call me out during her precious rest time.

So, one day, I boldly asked, “Why don’t you just rest instead of calling me out?” The way Lucia’s face turned red as she hesitated to respond is still vividly etched in my memory.

“W-was it wrong to call…?”

Seeing Lucia react like that left me with no other words to say. From that point on, whenever Lucia called for me, I would set aside what I was doing and come to her for a chat.

Lost in thought while walking down the street, I was suddenly brought back to reality when Lucia quietly approached and cleared her throat.

“Ahem… Today, we’ve received a support request from another camp.”

“Support request?”

“A patient with severe burns has arrived. While emergency care has been administered, the camp lacks the necessary equipment for surgery. Thus, the medical team has asked for my help.”

This was serious.

Lucia’s healing skills were unrivaled, comparable to Saint Veronica since she was young, so it made sense for them to reach out. The doctors must have done their best, and if other priests had tried everything with no progress, they had no choice but to seek help from a saint.

“Will you have bodyguards?”

“Priest Rebecca and several knights, along with some combat priests from the Inquisition, will accompany me.”

“Combat priests are those who escort the Inquisition officers and exorcists…?”

“Exactly.”

Lucia nodded with a gentle smile, and I nodded back as well.

With combat priests, an Inquisition officer, and knights, I felt relieved. The Holy See must have instructed them to ensure the saint’s safety, so cultists wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble.

Just as I was about to reassure her to come back safely, Lucia suddenly averted her gaze and cautiously made a request.

“Um, may I ask you to come with me for a bit…?”

“Ah, um…”

I forced a slightly awkward smile.

“I actually have somewhere urgent to go, so while I appreciate the offer, it’s a pity.”

“……”

Lucia, who had been avoiding eye contact, began to stare at me with a soulless expression.

A nagging feeling pricked at my heart like a sharp triangle, but there was nothing I could do.

***

I tend to fabricate lies automatically, but it seems that just because I’ve accumulated more lies doesn’t mean I’ve lost my conscience.

Faced with Francesca’s playful interrogation and Lucia’s somber face, I quickly searched for a way to navigate through the situation.

The method I had chosen was a tactical retreat.

In other words, I took off.

“…Isn’t running away not a solution?”

“How dare you insult the teachings of my grandfather!”

The ancient military treatise “The Art of War,” completed during the Qing Dynasty in the 5th century, is divided into six sections, each containing six strategies, making a total of 36, hence the name “Thirty-Six Strategies.”

Among them, the last strategy, ‘retreat to conserve strength,’ conveys the meaning that a tactical retreat is not an undignified decision.

However, considering that Sun Tzu’s work was written in ancient times, and that the concept of a tactical retreat is not mentioned in it, the notion of “Thirty-Six Strategies Retreat” is neither derived from the Art of War nor advocated by Sun Tzu. Just like Lincoln never said, “Everything you find on the internet is true.”

So, claiming I was insulting Sun Tzu’s teachings was nothing more than nonsense, but if nonsense is dressed up effectively, it becomes a profound saying, and power comes not from words but from the barrel of a gun.

“Why am I running away from Lucia and Francesca, what did I do to deserve this…?”

“Shut up, Malfoy!”

“Ah! Why are you yelling? You scared me!”

“Let’s be quiet on this trip. I didn’t even bring motion sickness medicine.”

“…Now, who forgot to bring their stuff?”

“Huff-”

“Ahhh! Fine! I’ll be quiet, okay….”

Having successfully made Camila squirm, I crossed my arms and plopped down on the bed.

“It’ll take about six hours to get to the city, so no more chatter, just rest. We have to jump into work as soon as we arrive.”

There are essentially two ways to infiltrate the Necropolis. One is the land route, and the other is to approach by sea.

The land route is protected by checkpoints and armed guards, but the sea route is practically risk-free, aside from ship inspections.

To board a vessel that has received entry approval into the harbor of dead whales, we had to bribe the shipowner and crew, forge entrance and passage permits, and bribe the port authorities. Aside from that inconvenience, it’s a relatively safe infiltration method.

Of course, last time we had to use the land route out of necessity to obtain the permits, as forging documents for the Necropolis is challenging, making it a somewhat risky but sure method, as Francesca had advised.

But this time was different.

“Gentlemen and ladies, how was the voyage?”

“Oh, Captain. Thanks to you, we had a comfortable rest. The ship is truly splendid.”

“It’s maintained with care to keep it in top condition. We’ll be arriving at the port shortly. Please prepare yourselves.”

We had received cooperation not just from the ship but also from the crew. With thoroughly managed entry permit paperwork, the ship was ready to safely transport us to the Necropolis.

Moreover, we had all the necessary documents to move freely in the city, including passage permits. Naturally, we had also prepared bribes for the port authorities and plausible identities.

The one who handled all of this was not me but the Information Agent.

To be exact—

“Stop, stop, stop. Identity verification is required. Please submit your documents. Excuse me, where are you coming from?”

“From the Palm Tree Trade Guild, Nation Muir.”

“Paloma here!”

A magician in a cape took out a crystal ball and reported, “Male and female identities have been verified. No issues detected.” With a mercenary beastman bearing a large sword at his waist, we were politely handed back our documents and identification. I smiled brightly and thanked them before stepping off the ship.

Camila, struggling under the weight of her bags, looked at me with a bemused expression.

“Nation Muir? What are you, a retiring CIA agent?”

“And what about you, Camila? Why that name out of all names? Haven’t you watched enough movies?”

“Martini, shaken not stirred. A timeless masterpiece!”

“Oh for crying out loud….”

We arrived at the port, each lugging our own baggage. Seagulls, which are rather rare in the desert, perched on the docks pecking at their food while a pig beastman admired a large fish reeled in by a talking beastman.

Standing near the dock was a suited man greeting us with a friendly face.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bereda, the manager of the Palm Tree Trade Guild’s branch here.”

The suited man bowed formally toward us. As he straightened up, his dark skin gleamed under the sun, revealing his pointed ears.

A dark elf had introduced himself as Bereda, the branch manager of the Palm Tree Trade Guild in the Necropolis. I momentarily set down my bags and extended my hand for a shake, smiling brightly as I inquired about the well-being of the information agent.

“Nice to meet you, Bereda. How is Guild Master Hormuz doing?”

“Of course, he was quite insistent that you all be treated with utmost care.”

“Ah, there was no need for that….”

I waved my hand dismissively and picked up my bags again.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

“This way, please. Lady, you may follow me as well.”

“Yes!”

***

On the Mauritania Continent, along the northern coastline, lies a port within a natural cave. The harbor of the dead.

From a shabby building’s window, a man held a radio.

“…Team Leader. A male and a female just disembarked. The ship’s name is Tebba. The owner is the Palm Tree Trade Guild.”

Shortly after, a voice crackled back through the radio. Adjusting his binoculars, the man replied.

“I’m currently with Bereda from the Palm Tree Trade Guild. We are on board their carriage, moving towards the Krisula Obata street.”

-‘I will report this to the Director, so keep an eye on them. Be careful not to cause unnecessary issues.’

Pondering over the team leader’s instructions, the man posed a question.

“What about the rookie?”

-‘What’s that one up to?’

“…….”

The man released the radio button and turned his gaze. At the end of that direction stood a woman.

As if conscious of his stare, the woman slowly turned her head, prompting the man to shift his gaze and continue speaking casually.

“She seems to be adjusting well. I don’t foresee any issues.”

-‘Got it. For now, follow them without the rookie.’

“Understood. I will report any unusual occurrences immediately. Over and out.”

After tucking the radio into his inner pocket, the man adjusted his hat. He pulled the magazine from the standard-issue pistol of the Kien Empire’s military to check, reloaded it, and secured the gun to his belt before giving orders to his subordinates.

“We’re going out. You two follow me, the rest stay here.”

“What’s my role?”

A woman, who had been seated, raised her hand and asked. The man considered something momentarily, then spoke in a calm voice as if it were nothing.

“The rookie will read the provided materials. If there are any questions, ask your senior. And you, don’t just do it half-heartedly, be thorough!”

“Hey— what do you take me for….”

The subordinate, called out by his senior, began to retort, but it fell flat.

As they walked towards the entrance, the colleagues began teasing the rookie.

“You’re the problem because you’re too half-hearted!”

“How many blunders have you committed for the sub-team leader to act like that? Accept it as your karma.”

“Hey! Why are you all joining in on this!”

“You should have done better from the start. Oh dear…. I’ll be back. Do you need anything, rookie? I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, I could use some mana herbs….”

“Mana herbs? Hmm, that’s not easy to find. Got it! If you think of anything else, let me know later!”

“…Don’t you all ever ask me? Seriously, it’s always just the rookie.”

“You’re an adult now. When will you stop whining about the rookie and start taking care of yourself….”

“Hey!”

As the two colleagues dashed away, the subordinate slumped down on the ground, looking forlorn.

Glancing between the tightly shut door and the despondent subordinate, the woman cautiously asked.

“By the way, who’s coming today? Isn’t our operation— I mean, isn’t our task a different matter?”

“…Uh, nothing at all. It’s a simple task that the sub-team leader is taking care of, so don’t worry about it. Just keep memorizing the materials you’ve been given.”

“Yes.”

The woman pulled her chair closer and resumed checking her documents, while the subordinate, having taken his eyes off the rookie, secretly lit a cigarette.

Puffing out thick smoke with a sigh, he muttered a curse.

“Damn…. I’ve never seen anything like this before, what are we gonna do….”

Unfortunately, there was no one to answer his question.

The hazy smoke merged into the mist, filling the ceiling between the crystals.

 

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