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While Frederick was frolicking around the city holding hands with Camila,

a crisis meeting was in full swing at the Nostrim Family.

“…So, you mean you have no idea where Frederick is?”

As the noblewoman’s voice echoed through the living room, the Treasury Department Official stuttered in reply.

“Uh, yes. He didn’t mention where he was going.”

“He did say the youngest would be coming, right?”

“Yes, he did. Well, sort of…”

He hesitated, retracting his neck like a turtle.

“Well?”

“He said he had somewhere to go.”

The Royal Court Maid interjected, eyes closed, about to spill the tea.

“Guess he has a date with a lady, huh?”

At that sigh-like remark from Mom, Jerry Nostrim leaned in, ears perked. Next to him, the eldest daughter, Adela Nostrim, was also rolling her eyes, which led to a moment where the siblings’ gazes collided in the air.

“……”

It had almost been a month since the second son, who had got mixed up in a reverse coup d’état and brought shame both to the country and the family, was kicked out of the house.

Due to an edict from their mother—more powerful than the law of the land (historically, the orders from women in the family outranked those from the state, a fact proven by the wife who booted the captain of a nuclear submarine)—Frederick had been forcibly evicted from the residence, but still, blood is blood.

Madam Nostrim was slowly starting to hope her son would return.

It was overheard from officials of the Ministry of Defense entering and exiting the royal palace that the day of the third son’s investigation coincided with the day the youngest son was returning from his business trip. She had done a heap of preparations for what she thought would be the perfect occasion.

However, the son who left home had vanished to meet some gal instead of zipping back home!

Ah! Blinded by a woman, or perhaps prioritizing family last—there was simply no end to her lamentations.

“Did you all just stand by and watch?”

“No, Mom! He left without giving us a chance to stop him!”

Taking the blame on her shoulders like a big sister, Adela’s explanation led Madam Nostrim to a realization.

Ah, these kids had no intention of stopping him.

*sigh* “Well, good job there, my dear daughter…”

The son who rushed off to meet a girl, and the eldest and second children who simply let him go—turns out they were all just the same.

This is exactly why people say having kids can be pointless sometimes.

Madam Grace Nostrim let out a deep, world-sinking sigh, clutching her boiling forehead as she finally spoke up.

“Go find him.”

She ordered them to go bring back the son who ran away!

—

**Side Episode – Under Siege by All Kinds of Schemes**

As the eldest son and daughter were desperately searching for their brother at their mother’s behest, the Nostrim’s second son was gallivanting around the city of Abas with a woman.

“What’s got you riled up all of a sudden?”

“Nah. Just that my phone keeps ringing…”

Frederick tilted his head, staring at his incessantly buzzing phone. His usually aloof roommate was calling him out of the blue, twice as crazily today.

Jerry and Adela had performed an Indian rain dance with their state-of-the-art communication devices, only to find their prayers were lacking urgency, as the mischief would have it. Frederick, the indignant second son of the Nostrim clan, had not only silenced his phone but had yanked the battery out it too!

Meanwhile, Camila was digging into a crispy waffle topped with luscious vanilla ice cream, seeming somewhat unsure, she hesitantly voiced her thoughts.

“Can’t you just ignore it? What if it’s something important?”

“It’s fine. It’s just my brother and sister.”

“Aha!”

She exclaimed as if she’d just had an epiphany, like a naked ancient Greek discovering ‘Eureka!’ while taking a bath.

With a disposable spoon in her mouth, she nodded profusely, as if she understood.

“I get it. When my brother and sister call, it’s usually about pointless stuff. Like asking me to buy pasta on the way home or reminding me they left the gas on.”

“Siblings are basically the same all around, huh? We had the same issue. They don’t pick up when you need them, but call when they need something.”

“Uh-huh. It’s infuriating!”

As Lowell’s second daughter and Nostrim’s second son bonded over sibling rants, one couldn’t help but wonder how their siblings would react if they were present, probably throwing a fit over such criticism. However, unfortunately, this was just the truth. Most calls and texts from siblings were usually filled with trivialities. It was quite the burden they had to bear.

But this time, it was no ordinary matter.

Their mother had picked up a long-forgotten mop handle, swinging it around saying, “Ah, the sensation of decades ago—”!

Now, while Madam Grace Nostrim hadn’t swung the paddle at her four children in 20 years, the sudden return of the ‘family etiquette enforcement tool’ was enough to make the civil servants’ buttocks pucker up by reflex.

“What do we do, Jerry?”

“Ahhh… I have no clue.”

Glancing at the silent phone, Adela began to sweat bullets, while Jerry checked his wristwatch, dampened by sweat.

Ayla was supposed to arrive in a bit over two hours. If the third son didn’t come back in a generous three hours, who knew what kind of chaos would ensue?

“Ugh…”

Just as they were anxiously fidgeting, an official from the Treasury Department appeared to whisper something in the Royal Court Maid’s ear, as if he had made a decision.

“Mother, it seems the third son might be bringing back a niece today—” he began with a warm excuse!

The shocking telegram delivered by the elder brother was enough to turn the Royal Court Maid’s attire upside down.

Madam Grace Nostrim, furious over her eldest son’s crazy nonsense (for reference, Jerry was in his thirties), unleashed the roar she had honed as the Queen’s chief maid.

“Jerry, get down right now!”

The meek Treasury Department Official instantly fell flat on the floor, pressing his head against it.

Though Jerry’s tearful sacrifice and unfounded schemes bought them precious time, the news didn’t even make it to Frederick’s ears.

Why? Because he was too busy enjoying himself with a woman.

Be it how much his mom yelled or his sister hiding behind the sofa, he didn’t have a moment to spare.

“Alright, shall we practice a bit since it’s been a while?”

“Sure!”

“Whoa, we’ve got a situation here! There are hidden allies or bodyguards watching the area, and sometimes the information officer might get marked by someone who’s been keeping an eye on them. If the person happens to be from counterintelligence, they could even tear apart some CCTV or dashcam to catch a glimpse of your face. They might check if there’s a tail as they turn into an alley or around a corner… So, those who want to remain undetected need to stay cautious of such hazards.”

First, don’t stare too much.

“Obviously, but fixating on the target for too long is a no-go! Third-party observers might come in for the mark, or the runaway might notice they’re being followed. So, here’s a question: how should we manage our gaze?”

“Cover our eyes, right?”

“I mean how do we do that?”

“Umm… with a hat or sunglasses?”

Bingo!

I grinned and pulled out my mobile phone.

“In this neighborhood, it doesn’t matter, but in the 21st century, a smartphone is nearly a necessity for modern humans. People are glued to these things everywhere they go—even while walking!”

Just from that, Camila easily figured out the answer. She lowered her head slightly, as if engrossed in her smartphone.

“Feigning to look at a smartphone while tailing someone?”

“Exactly!”

In reality, when someone is tailing a target in the 21st-century intelligence world, they often do so while looking at their smartphone. Sunglasses depend on the season and climate, but a smartphone popping up anywhere is not suspicious at all.

“It’s obviously suspicious to wear sunglasses in a region or season where the sunlight isn’t strong. But no one suspects someone looking at their phone. If they bury their face in a hat or hoodie, they can manage their gaze flawlessly. That way, if they follow the target, no one will notice.”

“Ah, got it.”

Second, think about TPO.

“While we’re on the topic of seasons, let me add that wearing inappropriate clothing and accessories for the time, place, and situation can backfire. Like, what if a mid-30s white guy in a suit comes into a back alley in Myanmar?”

“Looks like a CIA agent right away.”

“Exactly.”

Third, move in groups.

“I can’t stress this enough: tailing someone solo is a tough, high-difficulty operation. Statistically, it’s improbable to keep encountering the same person in other locations. So when intelligence agencies follow someone, they typically move in pairs or groups of three and use multiple vehicles for tailing.”

“Are there any tips for tailing with your colleagues?”

“Switch it up often. At least every 2-3 blocks, have someone drop out and come back in. Continuously replacing your team makes it harder for the runaway to notice.”

This tactic was indeed used during a joint operation between the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency on the Mauritania Continent. Intelligence officers disguised as local refugees took turns moving in to track the target.

Although things went haywire due to the unexpected incidents involving Ibrahim and the Order of the Holy Knights.

Except for this absurd traffic accident, multi-person layered surveillance has always been an effective method.

And truly, it was.

“When I was being tailed by the Chinese, they used this same approach. I only realized it right before I entered the hotel.”

“What?! What did you do to get followed by Chinese intelligence?”

“Ah, you know… just work stuff… Don’t mind it. They specialize in marking suspicious foreigners anyway.”

Anyway.

After the theory session, Camila jumped right into practical training.

The chase was on, and we scoured the capital for nearly two hours.

She caught sight of me trying to escape by bus, and she quickly darted into an alley. I halted her as she came barreling towards me, giving her a warning.

“Wait! I get that you’re in a rush, but when tailing, you shouldn’t run if the target hasn’t turned the corner yet. That practically advertises that I’m chasing you.”

“Ah, is that how it is?”

“And you must check where the target is going. If you rush into a meaningless alley, what’s your plan then? If someone goes into a dead-end like that, they’re likely to notice a tail trying to take them out, so you better be prepared with magic or a gun.”

Crunch! The sound of leaves cracking underfoot echoed through the street.

I let out a faint sigh and turned my head, while Camila sheepishly brushed the back of her neck with a nervous smile.

“As I said at the beginning, an intelligence officer tracks someone using three senses out of the five: sight, smell, and hearing. But what happens if you step on leaves? Even a normal person would check their back if they heard a sound of leaves crunching behind them.”

“Hehe…”

“Even if the surroundings are dark, watch your feet as you move! And be cautious of smells.”

“Smells?”

“Both the pursuer and the one being pursued often tend to act inconspicuous. Some intelligence officers deliberately smoke cigarettes, as that smell can be picked up from a distance. Smokers easily notice others’ cigarette smells, and non-smokers can catch that stench without much trouble. By the way, I once caught a runaway because of that smell lingering on a doorknob.”

“Got it.”

“Oh, wanna hear something interesting? In certain neighborhoods, you’ve got many ethnic groups known for not showering and having strong body odors, like in India, Southeast Asia, or the Middle East. There have been cases where intel officers got caught due to their scents while conducting operations abroad. The locals don’t have that smell.”

“That’s intriguing.”

“So, Camila, try washing up more often. Use some deodorant—wait, why are you turning on the light now?!”

“Who are you calling smelly?!”

“I’m just saying to be cautious in advance, you crazy arsonist!”

Definitely a beginner; Camila kept making mistakes, but she was still a promising trainee.

She understood the methods I shared with her rather well, and even began to grasp things I hadn’t formally told her.

“Catch me if you can!”

The highlight was when Camila took on the role of the runaway.

Realizing she was being followed, she dashed into a plaza, her legs moving furiously as if she was shouting, “Help me, I’m running away!”

When we regrouped after the training, I asked her why she had run in the plaza, and she replied with a bright smile.

“Frederick said earlier not to run until I turned the corner, lest the target notices they’re being followed.”

“And then?”

“If I suddenly started running in an open space like a plaza, and someone followed me, that person would indeed look like the pursuer, right? Even if they changed directions, it would become evident if they continued to chase after me.”

“……”

“What do you think?”

“Smart thinking.”

*

After the thrilling training in tailing and surveillance, we decided to grab dinner at a nice restaurant.

The place overlooking the river had an air of being pricey even without seeing the menu, making me think how lucky someone must be to dine here. The food and scenery were just perfect.

“Does it suit your taste?”

“Yes!”

Camila replied enthusiastically while savoring her mussels with fries.

The broth, simmered with white wine, had a refreshing flavor, and the fragrant blue cheese calmed down the potent taste. The huge pot filled with mussels and clams revealed their tender, juicy insides, and Camila popped a piece into her mouth, her quivering eyelashes closing tightly.

“Mmm… This is really delicious.”

“Eat plenty. You deserve it after all the hard work.”

I murmured while sipping the wine. For Camila, who had been so busy living her life, this was more than enough.

Beautiful scenery streamed through one of the windows as we sat around the table full of dinner, chatting about various topics.

I cut a piece of duck and savored the juicy explosion of flavors while starting a conversation.

“Everyone’s struggling locally, right?”

“Oh, the usual struggles. You know what the Mauritania Continent is like.”

The group was busy hopping among war zones, addressing numerous issues. As is often the case in all Third World countries, most problems were difficult for foreigners to get involved in.

After the failed military coup attempt in the Jamria Federation, the military elements who hoped for another coup turned into good boys, but no one knew how long this calm would last. True peace always seemed a distant dream on the Mauritania Continent.

Coincidentally, the news I had to convey was no different.

“Many companies are preparing to expand into the region.”

“Companies?”

“Yes.”

“Which companies are you talking about? Abbas, perhaps?”

“I can’t specify.”

“Sounds like there are a lot.”

Right after the military government got ousted in a counter-coup, numerous intelligence agencies began to prepare personnel dispatches to the Jamria Federation.

Both the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency were doing the same, as were similar organizations from allied nations and even some hostile countries.

Camila, cautiously sipping her fries dipped in cream, began to guess the underlying circumstances.

“Given that the demand for information about the region has surged due to rapid shifts in the situation, the increase in manpower makes sense. The problem is….”

It wasn’t just for that reason.

When the situation changes, it signifies significant consequences, greatly impacting the foreign diplomacy and national policies of each country.

Furthermore, the news that neighboring military forces became anxious upon hearing the news of the coup in the Jamria Federation was a well-publicized fact.

In other words,

“This could mean that depending on what happens in the Jamria Federation, the entire Mauritania Continent might change.”

“……”

“We can’t assume that they’re just dispatching new personnel for the sake of strengthening information networks, can we?”

A cautious question was posed.

I nodded gravely.

“The birth of a new government holds significant implications. If it can affect neighboring countries’ circumstances, then there’s surely other intentions aside from information gathering, even if we don’t know what they are yet.”

“Should we interpret that as a caution to be careful?”

“Yes.”

We agreed to proceed with caution for the time being. While intelligence agencies would do their thing, there wouldn’t be any harm in being careful.

After moistening my lips with wine, I let out a sigh.

“I’m worried that the Jamria Federation might turn into a playground for companies. It was a headache when I worked in Damascus, and I’m not keen on dealing with that again. Damn.”

“Yeah, Syria is a bit of a mess. But let’s not worry too much. So far, there haven’t been any big problems, right? The new federation government holds a friendly stance towards us.”

“Who wouldn’t be thankful to those who drove out the rebels? By the way, where has the Duke gone?”

“The professor is still in the Jamria Federation. He mentioned he had a bit of work left… but in my opinion, it’s likely challenging for him to return to the Empire due to the circumstances.”

Particularly, Alexandra Petrovna, the Duke who triggered both a diplomatic raid and a reverse coup, remained alongside the group. The pretext was for Camila’s education and stabilizing the region, along with some personal matters.

However, given her excessive communications and her clear avoidance of any diplomats coming out of the Kien Empire Embassy, it seemed she simply didn’t want to head back to the Empire.

Well, I could understand why she would want to stay in the field. How can a civil servant get involved in a coup from abroad? Seriously… (Military Intelligence Agency: No way!)

“Sometimes I think the Duke might be losing it.”

“Don’t slander the professor.”

“It’s not slander if it’s potentially true. He’s a hundred years old, after all.”

“Wait, when you say that, it kind of makes sense?”

As the slander escalated, Camila strangely began to question her mentor’s mental state.

Frederick rummaged for the batteries he had set aside and attached them to his phone. He waited for the power to turn on while sipping his wine, only to suddenly widen his eyes at the sight of the text messages and missed calls on the screen.

“What’s this?”

“Uh, why?”

“Why are there so many missed calls?”

There were 90 texts and over 40 missed calls. He had turned off his phone to avoid the contact from his housemates, and now there were messages from the company too.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his gut, Frederick covered his throbbing forehead with his hand. What was he supposed to do now?

“Ah….”

Still, he had to check the contents. He hastily opened the missed call list and dialed the number marked ‘Situation Room Chief.’

As he felt the tension building with sweaty palms, only moments passed before the other side picked up.

“Yes, this is Frederick Nostrim-”

-‘I’m the Situation Room Chief. Major, where are you right now?’

“I’m outside having a meal. What’s the matter?”

-‘Forget everything and hurry back to the embassy. Right now!’

Cut!

The Situation Room Chief hung up without another word. It was a very urgent and curt directive.

Feeling something was off, Frederick quickly gathered his things with Camila and left the restaurant. With a look of surprise, Camila hastily stuffed fries into her mouth as she rushed to catch up.

“W-what’s going on all of a sudden?!”

“I don’t know! They just told me to head back!”

Taxi!

The suit man bolted into the street and flagged down a taxi, shoving Camila inside. In his haste, the taxi shook violently as he jumped in.

The experienced taxi driver quickly analyzed the situation and sped off on a wild ride. Amid the chaos, Camila’s screams punctuated the air. Meanwhile, Frederick dialed back his family staying at the embassy.

-Drrr…

-Drrr…

–Drrr… Click!

“Brother Jerry!”

Frederick urgently inquired, wanting to know what exactly happened.

Was it an invasion of foreign enemies? Or did someone fall ill at home? What on earth was the company contacting him for?

While he was quickly turning through scenarios in his mind as the intel officer, suddenly, he heard Jerry Nostrim’s sketchy voice on the line.

-‘Ah, uh, Frederick. Finally, you called back….’

The Treasury Department official’s response came in broken snippets.

-‘Um, there’s been a bit of an incident at home while you were gone.’

“What’s happened? Did someone get hurt?”

-‘Uh? Uh, no, it’s not that… It’s just that we have some guests visiting.’

“Guests? But why is the company calling? And why do you sound so weird?”

-‘Well, about that….’

Frederick’s incredulous questions continued until Jerry spoke in a somewhat shady tone.

-‘Your girlfriend is here.’

“What?”

-‘Actually, it’s girlfriends…’

“What?”

-‘Anyway, you’d better come back quickly. They’re guests. Um.’

“……”

-‘But you know, it would’ve been nice if you gave us a heads up instead of dropping surprises on us. I’m not complaining, but… having so many fiancées is a bit much….’

“What’s with the nonsense?”

 

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