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The imposing sedan, belching heavy exhaust, was anything but ordinary at first glance.

It was a truck loaded with mud and construction debris, and passersby, having only ever seen old clunkers that had been through nearly 40 years of wear and tear, couldn’t take their eyes off the glossy black sedan.

It was only natural. People driving such prestigious cars were a rarity in the Republic of Ashtistan.

Someone closely intertwined with the government or a wealthy individual enjoying perks from the government. The aura of that extraordinary sedan hinted to the citizens that the owner belonged to one of those two groups.

“……”

The gaze of passersby, the vehicles along the roadside. The black car that had arrived with much clamor starkly contrasted with its surroundings.

Simply put, the sedan was like a two-eyed person dropped into a one-eyed nation, a distinctly separate existence from its environment.

And it was very jarring.

– Vrrrrrrr! –

The car, kicking up a cloud of dust, came to a stop not in the parking lot but right on the roadside.

Coincidentally, Camila and I were standing near the road. The sedan halted right before us as if it had business with us.

I could capture the unusual features emanating from the car.

Deep tinting. Bulletproof tires that could withstand gunfire. A receiver nestled between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat.

“…Oh no.”

That combination doesn’t bode well.

I felt an ominous premonition creeping in, suggesting that things could go drastically wrong.

As the backdoor opened, a leg stepped out.

And then—

“?

I couldn’t hide my astonishment for a moment.

The suit man who emerged from the vehicle adjusted his posture and tidied up his front, approaching me with a confident stride.

“Long time no see.”

When did we ever become so chummy that he felt like greeting me?

It was so absurd that I couldn’t help but ask.

“…You didn’t come here to collect money, did you?”

He was the Ashtistan gambler I met on the very first day at the Azadi Palace.

The ‘that guy’ from the Security Committee.

—

Episode 20 – Who Threatened with a Knife?

The Security Committee Official from the Republic of Ashtistan was truly an outstanding figure, ranking among the ‘Top 5 Worst Humans’ of his ilk in my lifetime.

Wasn’t it quite a unique first encounter when he arrived with a gaggle of suit men and immediately started blabbering about ‘money’?

Right. An intelligence investigator could accept bribes. Even if the counterpart was a foreign spy, I could approach this with broader tolerance.

Why? Because I had encountered characters like him more than once.

Investigators who received bribes from families of petty criminals, public security officials who proposed delightful games like fining passing foreigners versus accepting bribes, and even informants shaking down their own civil servants.

A thriving economy is the basis of life, and bizarre folks exist everywhere. Most of the bizarre people I’ve met belonged to this category.

In this sense, I could understand the Security Committee official’s request for a bribe. Maybe he just felt the urge to collect some. I wasn’t sure if that’s a normal way of thinking, but still.

Nonetheless.

No matter how thick-skinned the guy is—

This is too….

“Leave this country immediately.”

Isn’t that a bit disgraceful?

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean get out of Ashtistan.”

In response to this sudden request to leave the country, I could only blink in disbelief.

What kind of nonsense was this, just popping up out of nowhere?

“Have your ears been acting up lately…. Camila, did I mishear that?”

“You heard correctly, I think.”

Camila looked at me with wide rabbit eyes and confirmed it precisely.

I couldn’t help but wear a sullen expression.

“…It’s only the third day, though?”

“Seems like it was a two-night, three-day trip.”

“Weren’t we supposed to hang around for about a week? I thought it was a package trip, but what is this.”

“Is the Korean unhappy again? Your schedule has been replaced with a departure.”

“Not going!”

I unceremoniously shoved a scoop of Bastani (ice cream made from milk, eggs, sugar, rosewater, and salep) into her mouth.

“Awaawawa!”

Camila began to savor the ice cream, making a strange sound.

The smooth Bastani boasted a dazzling color and melted away impossibly fast, as if it had just come out of the freezer.

“Is it good?”

“Yes!”

“Well, it’s not like you’d find something you dislike….”

The spoon that was scooping up the creamy ice cream halted abruptly.

A sharp glare pierced through me like a needle.

“…What did you just say?”

“I said you should order another one if you need it.”

“Can I order two?”

“No.”

As you can see.

We had just exited the hotel and were exploring Shizuya.

Having lounged around in the room, we felt sluggish. Camila begged to explore the city and find a gift for the Duke, while I gathered intel from hotel staff on good tourist spots.

Our first stop was the bazaar, known for its handicrafts. It was a market in the Arab-Persian cultural zone. By the way, the word bazaar comes from this place.

With Camila, who was overly excited, we poked around the bazaar, picking up nice items whenever we saw them. There were stores selling handicrafts and snacks, notably a unique shop run by an old woman and a young goblin.

Absorbed in the Arabesque atmosphere, Camila asked the elderly woman how she and the young goblin ended up running the shop together, and after about an hour of chatter, they bought a ton of goodies.

It was hilarious to see her stacked high with items, unable to see ahead, stumbling every step. The old lady and the goblin were sweating bullets.

After also checking out the few department stores in Shizuya and wandering around the old town that dates back to the 1600s, we paused at a recommended shop from the hotel staff to eat Bastani when—

“…Wait. Why are you here again?”

I glared at the unwanted guest with a sulky face. The Security Committee official who had appeared, kicking up dust.

We had been having a great time, and now, he showed up and ruined the mood, right?

That’s why I was grimacing with distaste.

“Oh, I’m not buying anything. I don’t believe in any god because I’m not religious. Just please, go on your way.”

What on earth…

I wonder if I picked up some rumors.

Even the first line ghost, who used to preach the salvation theory of ‘Jesus heaven, hell disbelief’ to foolish mortals, never bothered people this much.

Even during my commutes to the Seoul headquarters (the Information Command was based in Seocho District until the 2010s), it only played gentle background music like a bio-surround speaker, never chasing after me to torment me like this.

Anyway, he’s just like a leech. Seriously annoying me.

“Leave while I’m still speaking nicely.”

“…Excuse me?”

Now he’s even threatening me?

I shot a look filled with dissatisfaction at the Security Committee official. Where did he recharge his confidence to boldly threaten me in broad daylight?

The official spoke in a low voice.

“You have 12 hours. Leave Ashtistan.”

“…”

“And don’t come back again. Don’t even let me see your face.”

His voice was smooth but lacked any distinctive features.

Though the man’s tone seemed calm, thinly veiled anger lurked beneath. Thus, his warning felt like the seething heat of a burning flame.

“…Huh.”

As I slowly picked apart his words, I realized that the emotion wasn’t just in his voice. His expression held emotion too.

Anger or hostility. No matter how I expressed it, the feeling was intensely strong, and it was clearly aimed at me.

So, I couldn’t help but think.

Why is this guy making such a fuss about me?

“…”

There were many points that made me suspicious.

Perhaps someone saw him asking for a bribe and reported it to the Security Committee, leading to him being reprimanded. Or maybe he was just irritated by the sight of a foreigner just wandering around without even paying him off.

But none of that mattered. Not at least at this moment.

What was important was that I was being asked to leave by an employee of the Security Committee.

And the fact that I was being coerced into leaving without any lawful procedure.

“12 hours.”

“…”

“Hmm… Let’s just go with that for now.”

I casually gathered my shopping bag and stood up.

The Security Committee guy continued to glare at me. Whatever, I just shoved some ice cream into my mouth and returned to the hotel with Camila.

“…Is this really okay?”

Camila, with a worried look, asked me, seemingly unable to comprehend the situation.

“This is illegal, right? Just telling me to leave without any reason?”

“What should we do, then? Should we grab him by the collar and fight?”

“We should report it. Well, more like lodge a protest… Anyway, we should do something to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or wherever—”

“You sure know your stuff.”

“…Huh?”

I nodded willingly.

Camila’s eyes widened in surprise like a rabbit.

“We definitely should report it, as you said.”

“…Are you really going to do it?”

“Of course. We have to report it.”

Hoo.

I added with a light sigh.

*

No matter how corrupt a third-world information agency may be, it still represents a state institution and an agency.

Additionally, under the laws of the Republic of Ashtistan, receiving bribes was unequivocally a crime, especially when it came to civil servants, which was deemed a serious offense.

“Camila, come help me translate this.”

“What should I do?”

“Just write down what I say. ‘To the civil servants who work tirelessly for the normalization of the Republic of Ashtistan, I appreciate your efforts. Today, on the streets of Shizuya….'”

I crammed all of today’s events onto the letterhead.

It was a form of whistleblowing.

Naturally, the recipient of this letter was the Security Committee of the Republic of Ashtistan—the workplace of ‘that guy’ who had been harassing me.

For the record, all reports in this country were made verbally or through letters, as it was a region with underdeveloped industries, making it impossible to submit reports or tips via online means like South Korea’s National Reporting Center.

Anyway.

With Camila’s help, the letter was prepared. After all, I could only speak Persian, and I didn’t even know how to write the alphabet of Ashtistani.

But it was no problem. Walking Google Translate, Bio-Papago was able to write down even the wiggliest of characters with exquisite penmanship.

“But isn’t the wording too stiff? It’s a letter going to an enemy state’s information agency, and ‘tirelessly’ sounds a bit off…”

“Well, should I write ‘I hope the Republic of Ashtistan collapses soon’ instead?”

“Uh… Now that I look at it, it’s actually a beautiful piece. I’ll use it as is!”

In any case.

She did her best to write the letter as I dictated, and I sent it to the Security Committee.

“It’s good that we reported it, but… will they really send inspectors? I’m worried they might just ignore it.”

“So, in the postscript, I wrote that if they mess up, I’ll tip off foreign media and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. These locals can endure corruption but can’t stand being embarrassed.”

“Oh!”

It was truly a protest letter packed with essence.

I firmly warned them that if they protected the employee who caused this mess, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs would lodge a complaint, and the media would also dig into this scandal to humiliate the nation.

I assure you, within a week at the latest, the inspectors would turn that employee’s office upside down.

“One more case solved today!”

Camila, excited and happy, jumped up and down as if she couldn’t contain her joy. Though I sighed at my disciple’s over-exuberant behavior, who could say otherwise?

The Duke was in a good mood accepting his disciple’s gifts and antics, Camila had a thrilling spectacle to enjoy, and I handled the annoying weirdo without lifting a finger.

It was a great situation.

“I got it, so stop jumping around. The hotel might collapse like this…”

That evening, we held a small celebration party to commemorate sending away the temp worker.

It was a truly delightful and happy day.

*

And the next early morning.

Employees of the Security Committee came to the hotel.

Along with the letter we had written.

 

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