---

The seemingly smooth train journey had barely begun when disaster struck just a day in.

The catalyst was Camila’s story.

“Someone’s dead, you know?”

She said she saw something suspicious while returning from the restroom.

A corpse had been taken off the train, and armed police officers had boarded.

“Natural causes?”

“No, it looked like a murder.”

I closed the book I was reading and accessed the company intranet. Intelligence related to the Mauritania Continent flooded the screen in an instant.

As I quietly handed over the device, Camila quickly sat down.

“I’ll give you the radio, so just wait here. If the police come to interrogate, hide the device discreetly.”

“Where are you going?”

I turned the buckle on my travel bag to the opposite side simultaneously.

Opening the snug seam to reveal a hidden pocket, I pulled out a cold, sharpened knife.

I tucked the 5.7-inch blade inside my jacket.

“Just taking a stroll around.”

—

Episode 20 – Who Wielded the Knife in Threat?

Middle Eastern oil country airlines are known, without a doubt, for their service.

Spacious seat arrangements, elegant lounges, friendly stewardesses, delightful in-flight meals—just to name a few.

Given that the government pours in massive subsidies and tax breaks based on oil money, it’s only natural that Middle Eastern airlines boast better service than any others I’ve experienced so far.

The train we boarded stirred up nostalgia for those Middle Eastern airlines.

Of course, having Duke Alexandra Petrovna secure royal (essentially first-class) seating played a part, but isn’t the railway company headquartered in the richest nation of the Mauritania Continent? A wealthy land bursting with natural resources like oil and precious stones, paired with a royal enterprise holding more than half of the shares means the service quality could outshine any ordinary Middle Eastern airline.

And yet, a murder unfolded right on this train.

“…This is amusing.”

I left the royal section and quickly began to scan the surroundings.

“Ahahaha!”

“Don’t run! You might trip.”

“I’m just going to the restroom. Should I pick up a bento on the way back?”

Despite the murder, the atmosphere on the train remained peacefully calm. Children dashed through the aisles, while adults sat apathetically, engrossed in their own matters.

There was no sign of anxiety or unease on the passengers’ faces. They merely took advantage of the train’s halt to deal with unfinished business or seek a moment’s rest in the restroom or at the train station.

Glancing at the clock, I realized we had been stopped for over ten minutes, beyond the average halt time, yet the passengers seemed unfazed.

Of course, that was to be expected.

The stewardesses were hustling about as if their feet were on fire, providing service.

“Is there anything uncomfortable for you?”

“I’ll refill your drink.”

“Please feel free to let us know if you need anything. We’ll bring it right away.”

However, the faces of the stewardesses were clouded with worry.

A brown-skinned woman wearing a scarf moistened her parched lips with a nervous expression, while the chief steward, a dark-skinned man, gripped the magical radio tightly, whispering orders to the other crew members.

“They’ll be boarding the police at this station for thorough inspections, and if they ask you any questions, you mustn’t answer. We can’t let the passengers find out, understood?”

“Yes….”

“By the way, Chief, who committed the crime…?”

“I’m dying to know too. No, I mean what kind of person…”

The chief stopped mid-sentence and inhaled sharply.

He hurriedly averted his gaze, and I smoothly moved toward the connection corridor.

For a moment, the air froze at the appearance of an unexpected intruder. One of the stewardesses scrutinized my attire, hesitatingly posing a question in Kien.

“Customer…? Is there something you need?”

“Just the restroom.”

With a deliberately curt tone, I responded, and the stewardess pointed towards the opposite connection.

Unfortunately, the restroom here was out of order, and while it was inconvenient, I was politely asked to move to the next car.

I breezed past the stewardesses as if I hadn’t heard them.

Instead of proceeding to the opposite connection, I swung open the door to the restroom in front of me.

“Customer! Wait a moment!”

The stewardesses rushed over in a flurry to stop me, grabbing my shoulder as I frowned in disbelief.

“Oh, what’s the deal? I’m in a hurry.”

“Please go to the opposite side. The opposite side.”

“What’s with that?”

“If you’d just follow us….”

And just like that, I was pushed out of the connection corridor.

What an interesting occurrence.

Stewardesses preventing me from using the restroom and the sporadic presence of police outside the train.

The shattered mirror above the sink and the missing tank cover from the toilet.

“…What a strange situation.”

It couldn’t be anything other than peculiar.

—

“It was indeed a murder. It seems the victim was struck with the toilet tank cover.”

—’How can you be sure of that?’

“Just a hunch from the scene. You know.”

I perched on the sink, continuing my thoughts aloud.

“The mirror in front of the sink was shattered, with hair and blood, along with bits of flesh stuck to it. Given that the tank cover is missing, it suggests the killer grabbed the victim by the head and smashed it against the mirror to induce a concussion before finishing them off with the tank cover.”

—’Is it completely ruled out that another tool was used for the murder?’

“I’d need to confirm by checking the body for detailed information, but no signs of any other weapon were present at the scene. Moreover, the conversation among the stewardesses also mentioned something about the head.”

Assuming that a foreigner like me wouldn’t understand if they spoke in the local language, the stewardesses chatted away about the murder case in front of me for a considerable time.

From their perspective, it made plenty of sense.

Foreigners using an expensive train generally meant businessmen, company executives, or wealthy tourists.

“Regardless, this wasn’t a crime of passion. It was premeditated, and the execution shows a certain skill….”

—’So you mean it wasn’t a struggle, but rather they subdued the victim beforehand before killing them?’

“That seems highly likely.”

The scene seemed too tidy for a fight to have occurred.

In that case, it implied that the killer had finished off the victim without giving them a chance to retaliate.

The only lingering question remained—why did they kill them?

Camila wondered if we had gathered any information about the victim’s identity. However, there was nothing about the train in the Military Intelligence Agency’s internal network.

—’It’s only been an hour since the crime occurred. There’s no way any information could have surfaced yet.’

“Oh, that’s just a matter of looking it up.”

I took out my work phone and dialed the headquarters.

The staff waiting for communication immediately relayed the news to the local branch, and about 25 minutes later, a message was delivered to me.

“The victim’s identity has surfaced.”

-‘Already? What does it say?’

“They’re just a civilian.”

The victim’s information obtained through the police from the local branch was pristine, if not immaculate.

They were an ordinary company employee, not affiliated with the military, police, information agencies, or even public officials. In fact, they were an ordinary citizen with no ties to terrorist groups, criminal organizations, or warlords.

Upon hearing this, Camila began speculating under the assumption this was a regular crime. Maybe it was related to loan sharks or something?

-‘Was there debt or anything?’

“Well, there is a bit of bank debt, but it’s a loan from a first-tier financial institution, and though the amount is large, it was borrowed for real estate purposes, so it’s not particularly suspicious.”

Above all, this person was an employee of a mid-sized company.

Sure, they could be a case of someone who borrowed heavily for gambling and was killed after fleeing, but such people generally either had vast debts to banks or were often unable to secure bank loans in the first place.

However, the deceased had been paying off interest while maintaining a stable job, so it was hard to conclude they were killed over money.

“It says they immigrated to another country to escape the civil war 11 years ago.”

-‘But they’re in their thirties. They left their hometown in their early to mid-twenties—could this really be linked to the civil war?’

“Who knows….”

There were many suspicious aspects, but there was no concrete evidence.

Thus, the speculations remained just that, as the story spun in circles.

-‘I’ll let you know as soon as I hear new information. What did you say the victim’s original nationality was?’

“Mardik.”

With the sound of tapping on the keyboard, I put the communicator away. Just then, the train’s movement jolted my body as it began clattering along the tracks once more.

It was right after the armed police boarded, yet no significant commotion had occurred yet.

“Show me your passport. Now.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand the language here, so I….”

“Passport, please.”

“I said I can’t understand what you’re saying!”

Armed officers hurried through the carriages, checking passengers’ belongings and identification. The sudden search visibly unnerved the passengers.

However, having eavesdropped on the crew’s conversation and prepared for the inspection ahead of time, I managed to pass through without any issue.

“Hmm….”

Receiving my passport back and about to move to the next carriage, I broke the silence with a peculiar voice as I counted the officers engrossed in their checks.

“There sure are quite a few.”

There were easily over twenty officers who had boarded the train. Even with the train being large and the number of passengers considerable, this felt a bit excessive.

Though they appeared to conduct the inspections gently, the glares cast at the officers, armed with rifles, were far from friendly. Some were anxious, while others vented to the stewardesses. An oddly tense atmosphere pervaded the train.

Avoiding that uncomfortable air, I got up from my seat, moved to a different compartment, and pulled out my mobile phone to dial.

After a few rings, someone finally answered on the other end.

-‘Oppa?’

“Why are you answering so late? You should pick up earlier.”

-‘You call while I’m working, and then you complain? What now?’

Today, as usual, my incredibly unlucky younger sister, Ayla, began to jabber back with her sassy tone.

Tsk. I clicked my tongue briefly before adjusting the phone in my grip.

“I need you to look into a situation that’s happening on the train I’m on. No long explanations, just gather everything your company has—stay period, the victim’s hometown, police investigation records, insights from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, military base communications, everything. Hurry up.”

-‘…….’

“What?”

-‘…This is a work-related call, right? Not a personal matter.’

“Do you want to get yourself hurt when you get home?”

Threatening her with telling Mom and Dad about her joining the Royal Intelligence Department, Ayla promptly began gathering information without further fuss, just like her usual self. You can’t reason with her nicely at all.

As I waited a moment after giving my sister a hint, finally, a response came back from Ayla.

With the information I had requested.

*

-‘I checked based on the deceased’s hometown and the country you’re in, and there are no significant issues between the governments. But…’

“And?”

-‘There was an incident late last year where a rebel group fighting against the government tried to infiltrate this country with combatants, detected while crossing the border. Through a train, no less.’

What a coincidental piece of information.

Now I understood why inspections had been tightened. If there had been such an incident related to the railroads, it was no wonder the checks were strict.

Camila arrived at a similar analysis.

-‘An illegal crossing by armed groups? That certainly explains why they were checking armed and why I found it odd. Since the victim was from that area, it makes sense the police would react sensitively.’

“And those rebels you mentioned. Are there any other updates?”

-‘There’s so much data it’s tough to comb through it all. If you’re looking for details on TTPs (Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures) or Modus Operandi (the method of operation in crime investigations), that’s feasible, but… Ah, there are reports of heightened activity among members trying to enter foreign territories, mostly focusing on those within the conscription age, and they have a tendency to get tattoos on their bodies.’

“…Is that so?”

-‘Yes.’

“Understood.”

Before ending the call, I nodded and added a quick note.

“Camila. If I don’t contact you within 30 minutes, I’m getting off at the next stop.”

-‘Why?’

“Nothing significant.”

I slightly bent forward to peek into the train compartment.

It was filled to the brim with men in their twenties and thirties.

To make matters worse, many had cute, colorful designs tattooed on their bodies.

I thought maybe I could ride this fancy train for free. It sure felt like my luck had turned foul.

I muttered in disbelief.

“It seems it’s time to carry a duke on my back.”

 

---