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The Embassy of the Kingdom of Abas in the Jamria Federation has been busier than ever since its doors opened.

“Pippin. The Anti-Terror Unit is asking for an update on the tracking of cobalt and zerodium.”

“I knew you’d ask, so I just uploaded it to the company network.”

As is the case with all illegal high-value industries, the smuggling of raw materials that can be weaponized is a lucrative means of making money.

Additionally, having a system to monitor these activities is an essential requirement for any information agency.

Just as the South Korean intelligence agency monitors hazardous materials like alkali, fuel, explosives, and North Korea’s Uranium Ore Concentrates (UOC), the Abas information agencies are also screening the status of hazardous materials being smuggled around the world.

Pippin and Jake were precisely monitoring such materials.

“It’s outrageous, simply outrageous. I never imagined there would be so many illegal weapons floating around.”

“This is a war-torn area. With finished weapons roaming around, smuggling raw materials is just a matter of course.”

Since the military coup, various incidents have occurred in the Jamria Federation.

As soon as central government control loosened, clashes between several warlords broke out in local areas. Weaker warlords sought out their own patrons to change the unfavorable tide, and local landlords and foreign armed groups presented them with irresistible offers.

Coincidentally, the federal army had also fallen into a state of near death. Due to the failed coup, the local military replaced the now-defunct federal army.

Landlords needed to arm their tribal members to stand against the local army, which had transformed into their personal militia, and the battle-hardened warlords provided them with quite a decent combat capability.

Though their strength was weak, a warlord is still a warlord.

They sold the minerals handed over to them by the landlords to foreign terrorist organizations, and those minerals eventually flowed into some countries like the Republic of Ashtistan, which are under international sanctions.

This news reached the ears of the power broker who held dominance in the southern Jamria Federation.

It got to the leader of the Hassan Warlord, Nasir.

Through his ties with Frederick, Nasir provided information to the Military Intelligence Agency. The Military Intelligence Agency, upon receiving this report, leaked the information to the Royal Intelligence Department, and before long, friendly intelligence agencies and the Abas Intelligence Agency formed a joint surveillance network.

Of course, it was unknown whether this surveillance network was created to maintain peace in the international community or to prevent hazardous materials from flowing into enemy nations.

None of that was important at all.

What truly mattered to Pippin and Jake was something entirely different.

“Charnoy! What do you want for lunch today?”

Nymph perked up her ears with excitement, her legs resting on the footpad as she wrote a report.

“I want a hamburger…!”

“…Again?”

Jake muttered in astonishment, but Charnoy shook her head firmly, not understanding what he was getting at.

“Today I’m especially craving a Cajun fries and whole thigh patty burger set… I must have a hamburger!”

“You’ve been eating a lot of hamburgers lately. Last time you even begged that guy in armor for one.”

“The Land of Happiness never gets boring, no matter how many times you visit…”

Charnoy’s short legs wobbled on the footpad. While she passionately voiced her desires, all that was offered to the uncontrollable little troublemaker was a deep sigh.

“Alright. Delicious food is the best.”

“Don’t you worry about your health? What if you end up with cavities from all this?”

“I’ll just sell my rotten teeth at the Magic Tower auction… Ah, fine! I’ll stop joking around, Pippin.”

Anyway, today’s menu was decided: a juicy thigh chicken patty and Cajun fries.

It wasn’t the first time that overwhelming amounts of information pouring in had led to a hasty lunch, but who cared? As long as there was a delicious burger, fries, and a refreshing soda, that moment would be enviable, even over a five-star hotel buffet.

As they were enjoying lunch in the Land of Happiness today, an unexpected visitor infiltrated their peaceful routine.

-♬~

At that moment, Charnoy, jamming fries into her mouth and playing around, suddenly found her work mobile vibrating loudly.

“Yes. This is Pippin from the Military Attaché at the Jamria Federation Embassy of the Kingdom of Abas. Who is this?”

-‘It’s me.’

“…Manager?”

-‘Can I borrow the embassy line for a moment?’

—

Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?

In public office, rank is like a gang.

Especially in the military.

In a group that adheres to a single, vertical command system, the principle of hierarchy is essentially inviolable. After all, there’s a saying that if you’re not happy, you should’ve joined the military earlier.

In that sense, the major who gave the brigadier general a headache was quite an extraordinary character.

“…….”

Before the device connected over the secure line, Leoni pressed her throbbing temples. Perhaps it was because she had just woken up; her head ached considerably.

“You received a letter from that old priest?”

-‘Yes, that’s right. It was more of a memo, though.’

A remarkably composed voice came through.

As if it were no big deal.

Leoni leaned her head against the chair and asked,

“You said this was all the information?”

The coded message used within the Military Intelligence Agency floated on the screen of the device.

The message was sent from the Jamria Federation Embassy of the Kingdom of Abas. It had passed through encrypted materials prepared in a soundproof room filled with various paints and materials before reaching the Military Intelligence Agency.

Of course, the individual who sent the message wasn’t there.

“…….”

Leoni’s dry gaze read through the message. There was no need for careful consideration; the contents quickly caught her eye.

The message was incredibly simple.

Name. Location. Time.

To elaborate, it included the company name, the name of a quasi-military organization, along with specific locations and times.

As Leoni scrutinized the message, her jaw relaxed.

“What does this mean?”

The manager asked.

It was an order to report on the investigation.

The information officer replied,

-‘The first is ‘Canicular Holdings Co., Ltd.’ A holding company based in the Dalriya Kingdom. The employee count is approximately 390. It mainly owns stakes in overseas IT and financial companies.’

“What about the armed group?”

Leoni’s eyes scanned the second line of the message. Frederick provided additional details in a flat tone.

-‘Wali Al-Dadun’ are guerillas active in the Al-Yabd Republic of Balekistan. It’s a group consisting of minority ethnicities united by the tribes led by ‘Mehregan Zulfiqar Khan,’ and they attacked foreign-flagged vessels traveling the maritime trade routes around August and October while previously having dispatched combatants to various locations throughout the Mauritania Continent to support civil wars and terrorism.’

“…….”

-‘And they were the ones I ran into on the train too.’

The holding company and the terrorist group.

Whether combined or separated, it was hard to find significant connections between the two.

However, the point that the holding company is headquartered in the Dalriya Kingdom, a well-known tax haven, and that the terrorist group had previously been involved with company employees posed a problem.

Leoni slowly spoke up as she placed her hand on the table.

“The Dalriya Kingdom is famous as a tax haven.”

It was common knowledge that the royal family received bribes from wealthy foreigners and corporations, luring them with low tax rates. Even the media, not just intelligence agencies, had sniffed it out.

The company called Canicular Holdings, based in a tax haven, did not necessarily raise any concerns, in other words, it might not be an issue for the intelligence agency.

It was highly likely that it was a ghost company that didn’t deserve any attention at all.

But the source held me back.

“…….”

Leoni tapped the table, lost in thought.

The Priest of Al-Yabd had sent a letter to Frederick. Though the Duke was involved, the Empire’s Archmage had temporarily taken on the role of the messenger and claimed to know nothing of its contents.

The problem was why the priest had informed the employee about this dubious company, foreign terrorist organization, and the baffling location and time.

“Were there any other details?”

– “No. The contents of the letter ended with three pieces of information.”

“Then is it possible that this information is related to the ‘request’ you received from the priest?”

The head of the Military Intelligence Agency’s overseas department asked if the government of the Republic of Ashtistan was connected to this company and the terrorist group.

To be precise, it was a question of whether they had found a link between the Law Enforcement Corps and ‘Canicula Holdings’ and ‘Wali Al-Dadun’.

The response was firm.

– “No confirmations as of yet.”

…No confirmations yet, huh.

This implies that something might come to light upon confirmation.

“…….”

The chief pondered for a moment. What was the leader of the Republic of Ashtistan and Al-Yabd’s intention in delivering a letter to an enemy information officer?

What connections did the parent company and terrorist organization possess, and what did the location and time signify?

There were still no clear answers. As Frederick had indicated, no confirmed facts existed.

Thus, the information officer asked.

– “…Shall we look into it?”

The chief cautiously responded while reviewing the document.

*

The commotion that began with a single letter brought about a twist with another letter.

The inscrutable sage had laid out three keys, but it remained uncertain which path they would lead me down.

“…….”

In the late afternoon, I strolled slowly through a park in Shizuya.

The sunshine was warm and the breeze was cool, making it a perfect day for aimless walking in the shade.

Blending in among the local people out for a day out, I sat on a bench reading the newspaper. True to the Republic of Ashtistan’s commitment to a free press, the front page featured an article celebrating the achievements of ‘Menbashi’.

“…The Prime Minister of the Republic of Ashtistan met with the president of a friendly nation.”

The great revolutionary who had taken the seat of Prime Minister had long since evolved into a fully-fledged politician. Together with the priest, the national mother of Ashtistan, he had been referred to as the father of the nation and had successfully renewed his term six times about two years ago.

What remarkable skill! Both as a politician in a democracy and as a dictator in a dictatorship.

It hardly mattered what he was. The fact that the first Prime Minister of the Republic of Ashtistan would remain in that position until his death stood unchanged.

The soft sound of the newspaper pages turning marked the end of my glance at the convoluted text.

“…….”

Information regarding Canicula Holdings and Wali Al-Dadun was to be investigated by the headquarters. Personnel dispatched from the headquarters joined with local information officers.

It had already been confirmed through numerous intelligence operations that the Law Enforcement Corps was circumventing international sanctions through a front company.

Similarly, the long-standing tracking of intelligence agencies had clearly revealed the reality that the Law Enforcement Corps was forming a tight bond with armed groups on the Mauritania Continent during last year’s maritime inspections.

It wasn’t difficult to suspect that the parent company and insurgent groups had ties to the Law Enforcement Corps. Even though specific information remained elusive, it was something I could instinctively sense.

Of course, I couldn’t understand the significance of the time and place mentioned in the priest’s letter.

“Hmm….”

The most famous attraction in Shizuya, a tourist site featuring an appealing Persian-style garden.

Timarshak Park at 1 PM was an ideal spot to meet people.

I set aside the newspaper for a moment and basked in the tickling sunlight on my skin.

It was a slightly intense warmth. Like that sun I felt in Algeria. The warm and glaring light was dazzling.

I muttered in a low voice.

“I wonder who will come crawling out.”

My jacket, which hung a bit loosely, felt particularly heavy today.

*

A city of freedom and prosperity. The headquarters of Al-Yabd and a merchant corridor linking East and West.

When I was studying at the Academy, the professor of the ‘History of the Mauritania Continent’ course, recommended by a friend, taught it just like this.

However, while gazing at the body cradled in the arms of a compassionate mother and the martyrdom glorified by the propaganda mural, I couldn’t help but doubt whether this was indeed that Shizuya.

“…….”

This place, once touted as a beacon of freedom and prosperity, turned out to be somewhat desolate rather than what I had expected.

Women wrapped tightly in veils. Morality police wearing gray armbands. A police officer halting ordinary vehicles with hand signals, while a van zipped past.

The moral police gathered in the park called over young men and women, reprimanding them for their violations of ‘Al-Yabd’s values’. Painting the knees of a man dressed in shorts and pointing out a woman’s stray hair.

The revolutionary leader’s portrait looked down upon the scene of the detained young man and woman getting into the van. The composition of the propaganda mural, perfectly put together, seemed to solemnly admonish the spiritual decline of the younger generation.

The man staring blankly at the propaganda poster pulled his hat down low.

“Let’s go, dear.”

“…Uh-huh.”

The man quickened his pace, and the woman, clutching her small hand, followed behind him.

Two girls, holding ice cream, gazed at the man’s back, then licked their melted ice cream and looked up at the woman.

“Mom, where are we going?”

“Won’t our friends come?”

A warm gaze touched the child’s face.

Kneeling down, the mother softly cupped her daughters’ faces.

“We’re going to a good place with Dad.”

“A good place?”

“Yes. Henya, Lucy. Do you trust Mom?”

Bright smiles broke out on the faces of the two girls.

In response, a small smile appeared on the lips of the woman, too.

A very, very small one.

It was a smile that looked subtly bittersweet.

 

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