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A week ago. In the gloom of darkness, the capital of the Kien Empire, Petrogard, glimmered.

Inside the soundproof security conference room, long rows of chairs lined up with several empty seats, while smoke from cigarettes wafted up from the occupied ones.

And at the head of the table sat a person.

The Director of the Imperial Guard HQ, Ilya Nikolaievich Kutuzov, offered a dry congratulation regarding the promotion to Manager.

“Congratulations on your promotion to Manager during this personnel reshuffle.”

As his calm eyes scanned the documents, Director Ilya Nikolaievich began reciting in an even tone.

“The royal family and the Imperial Guard HQ highly appreciate your contributions to safeguarding the tactical communication systems of our military from the intelligence agency in the Far East aiming to destabilize the Empire. If you hadn’t identified the communication vulnerabilities between the Juno and auxiliary nodes, all major communication centers, including the front and rear headquarters, would have fallen entirely.”

“His Excellency the Prime Minister has recently ordered a thorough investigation into the incidents and accidents within the military. This aims to rectify the disrupted discipline caused by lax military leadership and to establish a starting point for the prompt detection and countermeasures against potential attacks on our military’s communication and command systems in the future.”

“After discussions in the palace and cabinet, they wish to appoint you as the head of the special investigation department. Just like in the last investigation where you made significant achievements, they hope you can restore the discipline of our military.”

“…However, I personally would like to propose another option.”

With a click, a closed fountain pen was neatly placed in front of the head of the table. Murky smoke rose between the sparsely populated chairs, and a faint sigh followed.

“Ekaterina Andreevna.”

The Director, having shifted his gaze from the documents, clasped his hands together and suddenly raised his head.

“Bring one person from Shizuya.”

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Side Episode – Another Peaceful Day in Ashtistan

If you go straight down from the exit number 4 of Pajeski Station, you’ll reach a square that stretches east and west.

A palace that exudes a majestic atmosphere, symbolizing the authority of the royal family. In front of it stands the square of Robnoé.

Robnoé Square, one of the famous spots in Petrogard, boasts a thousand-year history and represents the Kien Empire, where splendid culture and arts breathe life.

Travelers, enchanted by its beauty, often find themselves captivated by the melodies sung by artists and bards as they meander aimlessly around the square.

The simple yet soul-stirring melodies and stories infused with joy and sorrow serve as a tool to tune the machine that is the soul; once you set foot in that square, it becomes clear why cultural artists are called the ‘repairers of the soul.’

However, if you venture just a bit, a mere bit, away from Robnoé Square,

your heart, once elevated with emotion, would chill instantly.

Upon reaching the street with the jade-colored statue, the world suddenly splits into roads and small squares, creating a dichotomous atmosphere.

A department store attracting attention with various child products and dazzling lights for innocent children.

And across from it, an 8-story public office boasting a faded golden exterior.

An utterly ordinary building that most foreigners would dismiss as just another common building due to its unknown inner workings. Yet, with a little effort to focus, peculiar features come into view.

There’s no sign to be found above the entrance meant as the main door.

Other entrances situated on all sides are shut tight with double locks, and the windows are universally adorned with curtains and blinds.

The outside wall, fortified with spiked bars, envelops the entire premises, making it impossible to peek into the courtyard through the densely planted greenery even if one approaches.

Walking along the heavy and suffocating building’s fence, you would eventually discover that a small entrance exists in the right corner.

A narrow door barely wide enough for a single person.

That is the entrance designated for outsiders with business here.

Occasionally, many tourists flowing in from Robnoé Square harbor suspicions about this ‘unknown purpose building.’

Curious individuals would grab passing citizens and ask, “What is this place?” but even an old man who has lived on Jerzhinsky Street for 60 years would shake his head firmly, saying, “I don’t know,” offering no clear answers.

Not knowing was normal.

To be precise, one shouldn’t know.

There were many truths one didn’t need to know in Petrogard, and stories one should never utter.

It was well-known in the Empire that those who violated those trivial yet significant rules all entered through that ‘narrow entrance.’ The fact that some of those individuals had yet to return to their families and friends was just as well-known.

Of course, no one in the Empire would carelessly speak of that fact.

Moreover, especially in the center of Jerzhinsky Square, where the watchful eyes lay hidden everywhere.

Thus, only a select few brave citizens and those unafraid to speak could openly mention this mysterious public office.

Its identity was none other than the sword and shield guarding the Smirnov royal family.

The Imperial Guard HQ.

—

If there’s a grand principle that information agencies consider a destiny, it’s that ‘the end justifies the means.’

As an intelligence officer crossing the Iron Curtain in London once stated, a correct result justifies everything, even if that result stems from an incorrect process.

The Imperial Guard HQ was an organization that adhered thoroughly to that grand principle.

Whether illegal or unethical, as long as it met the results and standards demanded from above, the administrators wouldn’t hold employees accountable for anything.

The Empire’s judicial system also comically danced to the tune of the Imperial Guard HQ. The Foreign Ministry did the same. Even if the employees crossed a certain line, given the justification of protecting the royal family, even the cleanest officials had no choice but to comply.

Thus, fear for the employees of the Imperial Guard HQ lay solely within.

Especially directed towards superiors in higher positions.

When summoned to enter the 6th-floor conference room, the anticipation was overshadowed by tension for such reasons. That usually meant either significant responsibilities were being asked of the rank-and-file employee or there was talk of acknowledging their accomplishments.

However, there were also employees for whom curiosity overshadowed their tension. Those who had made remarkable achievements and felt no shame.

Ekaterina Andreevna was one such individual.

“……”

Having arrived at the 6th-floor conference room in response to the Director’s summons,

Ekaterina stood with her two legs firm while the esteemed higher-ups occupied the sparsely filled seats ahead of her.

“Are you telling me to rescue someone from Shizuya?”

Ilya Nikolaievich Kutuzov, the Director managing counter-intelligence, investigation, and security at the Imperial Guard HQ, nodded quietly like an elderly physician.

“Who am I supposed to bring back?”

“An Information Agent.”

The Director Ilya Nikolaievich added cautiously.

“A foreigner cooperating with the Anti-Terror Division.”

It’s someone we planted.

The Director murmured that and shifted his gaze sideways. The administrator sitting to the left of the head of the table smoothly pushed a clipboard across the desk toward her.

“It’s a specialist. Read this first while seated.”

The document glided over like a ball sliding on ice, halting right in front of Ekaterina. Accepting the clipboard cautiously, she read the content silently.

As the edge of the paper caught her fingernail and flipped up, the sound of tapping ash being knocked off a cigarette followed.

The administrator began to speak in an indifferent tone.

“This is a report from the Anti-Terror Division 1 from the day before yesterday. It reported that a liaison operating within Abas was arrested.”

As her fingers continued to turn the excited pages, background knowledge about the Anti-Terror Division played out like a panorama in her mind.

With 20 sub-divisions, the Anti-Terror Division is responsible for the overseas counter-intelligence work of the Imperial Guard HQ.

The organization rotates on a continental and regional basis, with divisions dedicated to specifically monitoring cults or organizations like Al-Yabd. Among them, Division 1 focused on the Kingdom of Abas stands as a core department within the Anti-Terror Division.

As implied by its name, the main duties of the Anti-Terror Division involve dealing with foreign intelligence agencies. Handling deceptive and counterintelligence, tracking returning agents from the Empire, following information agents meeting in third-party nations, and engaging in standoffs with foreign organizations as they interact with diplomats or delegations.

Basically, that’s how the work of the Anti-Terror Division goes.

And turning foreign intelligence agents inside out to become double agents is also part of the duties managed by the Anti-Terror Division.

“What do you mean by a liaison?”

“A go-between. Someone who connects the double agent abroad with the management officer at headquarters.”

“Such a person has been arrested.”

The Director of the Anti-Terror Division glanced at the esteemed member on the right. The tired-looking administrator gently cradled his teacup as he briefly summarized the intelligence acquired from the Anti-Terror Division’s agents.

“The liaison’s identity was compromised purely due to his negligence. He poorly handled eavesdropping, causing the Abas intelligence agency monitoring subversive communications to notice the signs.”

Ekaterina sensed what mistake the liaison made just from the text of the report and the words of the Anti-Terror Division chief.

In a situation where he couldn’t use a cipher system, the liaison must have prepared for eavesdropping by simply coordinating places and times. With constantly moving public transport and private cars entering and exiting intersections, along with the crowded streets’ public telephones.

He probably only made brief calls at scheduled times in places that were hard to track.

But the liaison carelessly continued communications, ultimately leading to his arrest. It was undoubtedly unfounded confidence that he wouldn’t get caught or a forgetfulness of rules due to over-familiarity.

One couldn’t help but know this all too well.

The former collaborators of foreign intelligence agencies they had captured usually made similar blunders and paid the price here.

As the investigator that had directly arrested them, Ekaterina had often seen it over and over again.

“What kind of person is the collaborator?”

Ekaterina inquired. An administrator sitting in the middle responded fatigued.

“Zigmund. That’s his name. We call him ‘Domoboy.'”

“A spirit mentioned in mythology. The spirit that monitors whether the household runs properly.”

“A fitting nickname for a double agent. He has surely benefitted quite a lot in reality.”

The analytics administrator opened a thick file with a brown cover.

Wetting his fingertip, he flipped the pages, narrating Zigmund’s past.

“Zigmund is the head of the Royal Intelligence Department of Abas. He was born 46 years ago into an immigrant family in the south, and now he has climbed to the role of the head overseeing the overseas intelligence operations of the Abas intelligence agency. By the way, the area he oversees is the Eastern Mauritania continent. There, he commanded intelligence operations against our company.”

“Eastern Mauritania…”

The investigator nodded knowingly.

“That’s where the Republic of Ashtistan is located.”

“Exactly. The Republic of Ashtistan is right there.”

The administrator echoed Ekaterina’s comment and continued explaining about the collaborator.

Zigmund was one of the many lower-ranked intelligence officers of the Royal Intelligence Department over twenty years ago.

Officially, his first confirmed record was dispatched as a dauntless representative of a private enterprise from the Abas government, commencing intelligence activities in Shizuya during the still-existing monarchy.

“Zigmund, dealing with great imperial affairs in Shizuya, was in danger. The intelligence agents he had embedded in trade were exposed to us. Those in the Anti-Terror Division overseeing the area at the time tried to arrest the Royal Intelligence Department’s henchmen, but Zigmund disposed of all his intelligence network and fled. The next time he reappeared was two years later.”

The intelligence officer, who had disappeared in Shizuya, resurfaced there once more.

The revolution that swept through Ashtistan stripped its kingdom title, turning it into a republic, and the pro-Abas stance gradually twisted into an anti-Abas stance.

Once a collaborator attacking the Empire alongside ally nations, the intelligence officer now began attacking the Republic of Ashtistan, which had turned hostile, and the Kien Empire.

The fledgling Ashtistan Intelligence Agency fell under his control, and the intelligence officers sent to assist their blood alliance began to be eliminated one by one at Zigmund’s hands.

“At that time, Zigmund managed to gather intelligence about our military’s technical assets.”

In the back of the meeting room, an administrator seated at the end suddenly interjected into the conversation.

Looking extremely tired, the administrator recounted a past incident.

As if reminiscing its memories, I paused for a moment. Then, taking out a cigarette, I began to murmur softly.

“The listening posts set up all over the Mauritania Continent have all been exposed. Upon investigation later, I found that friends of Zigmund, who worked at the Information Agency of Ashtistan during the monarchy, remained at the Republic’s Information Agency. It so happened that our Defence Ministry’s information officer, who was assigned to communicate with them, let slip about the listening bases.”

There was no need to find out what happened to those so-called friends. I knew how obvious the answer would be without even asking.

What Ekaterina was curious about was something else.

“So that was the spy who shattered our information network. I had heard there were rumors of his death, so I didn’t realize. But… why did such an information officer switch sides to us?”

The counterintelligence officer chuckled lightly.

“What else could it be? It’s obviously for the money.”

“…….”

After the listening base of the Kien Empire’s intelligence agency in Mauritania collapsed, a letter arrived at the quarters of the Imperial Guard HQ officials who had come to investigate the situation in Ashtistan.

A single letter bearing three names, along with an account number opened in a country famous for tax evasion. The brief message at the end said, “If you want different names, wire 6 million sheckels.”

Ordinarily, I would have forgotten about the account after receiving the information, but in that moment, even the employees of the Imperial Guard HQ couldn’t bring themselves to tear up the letter.

The three individuals mentioned in the letter were government officials whom the Kien Empire had co-opted on the Eastern Mauritania Continent. Moreover, they were high-ranking officials of a fictitious state that maintains friendly relations with the hostile nation.

This was a red flag indicating that the towering edifice the Imperial Guard HQ had painstakingly built over the years could collapse. At the same time, it hinted that the sender of the letter was an employee of the enemy’s information agency.

Upon receiving the report, the Imperial Guard HQ held an internal discussion and then transferred the 6 million sheckels to the account. Shortly thereafter, a fax arrived at the Empire’s embassy in Shizuya.

The second list contained the names of other individuals. Those were personnel associated with the high-ranking officials whose identities had been exposed. It didn’t take long for us to figure out that they were the eyes and ears of the enemy’s information agency.

After disposing of the exposed information agents and the enemy’s agents, the Imperial Guard HQ immediately attempted to contact the owner of the letter.

It was clear to anyone that this was a signal tossed out by a defector.

And the first moment I met the sender of the letter remains etched in my mind even decades later.

“It was Zigmund. That guy.”

“…….”

“The spy who troubled us the most appeared at Timarshak Park, as if he had simply come out for a carefree stroll.”

Right there, Zigmund hinted at his willingness to defect to the Imperial Guard HQ. The very information officer of the enemy nation who had risen to prominence by duping the entire Empire boldly extended his hand.

The officer carefully recalled the information officer he met in the park that day.

“He suggested we take a walk. He said there were too many eyes at the embassy and invited me to look around the park. At first, I wondered if it was a trap.”

Despite my considerable hesitation, my internal struggle didn’t last long.

And the fruit of that decision was sweeter than any other.

An employee from the Ministry of Civil Servants at 9 Estalanga, Shizuya was found dead with his throat slit in his home. He was an official working in the Ministry of Agriculture of Ashtistan.

Two customs officers managing the warehouse at Jasim Port were discovered dead, their heads crushed with a blunt weapon. Later police investigations revealed that they had received untraceable bribes.

A member of a delegation that had set out for the Duchy of Latwan was shot dead. While leaving the theater, someone had opened fire with a submachine gun, and on that day, a fellow of the delegation who was trying to cross over to the Kingdom of Abas via the southern border met with a fatal accident.

The Imperial Guard HQ had effectively eliminated the assets of the enemy’s intelligence agencies over the past several decades.

Patalia, Lushan Federation, Abas…

Every time they were eliminated, the amount was wired to the account, and letters piled up at the embassy.

Throughout this process, Zigmund hadn’t raised a single suspicion. Not when the Royal Intelligence Department’s Inspection Office raided the offices of his colleagues, nor when the double agents planted by the Military Intelligence Agency wreaked havoc in the Empire. All suspicion had bypassed him.

It wasn’t merely luck. Certainly, it couldn’t be denied that Zigmund had luck on his side, but he was also far more cunning than he appeared.

“He avoided any direct confrontation that might leave a trail and conveyed information only through a contact. Once we designated a contact, he would leave the files at an agreed location, which the contact would then retrieve and deliver to us.”

“Did you always use the same contact?”

“No. We rotated them periodically. Relying on just one would leave too many traces.”

The Imperial Guard HQ spared no expense for Zigmund. From the money he would use to the contacts he employed.

It was routine to discard people like a dry sponge, and everything else followed suit.

The HQ controlled the contact to ensure that Zigmund wouldn’t know his true identity, while Zigmund refrained from arresting the information officers of the Imperial Guard HQ to conceal his activities.

Although Zigmund, in charge of intelligence tasks, fabricated reports that uncovered overseas operations led by the Royal Intelligence Department, the overseas operations conducted by the Imperial Guard HQ were kept hidden beneath the surface.

The Imperial Guard HQ had to strain every effort to keep Zigmund hidden.

Sometimes, they would provide him with information that the Abas intelligence agencies wanted to know, and sometimes they even created double agents who existed only in imagination to mislead the eyes and ears of the enemy.

Thus, a love affair lasting a full sixteen years continued.

But now, that relationship was nearing its end.

“All this embarrassment, thanks to just one contact. Damn….”

“When the tail is too long, it gets caught.”

“Quiet.”

As the officials chuckled wryly with cigarettes in hand, the director at the top raised his hand to halt the conversation.

It had been a long prelude.

Now it was time to get to the main point.

“Domoboy is a very important figure. For the last 16 years, the only reason we’ve been able to stay one step ahead of the Abas information agency is not because their agents are foolish, but because Domoboy has been sitting above them.”

Although the Abas and Kien intelligence agencies had inflicted serious wounds on each other, neither had decisively broken the other’s lifeline.

Even if Zigmund had hidden crucial information, he was still just a human. In places where his reach did not extend, the Imperial Guard HQ had been engaged in fierce struggles against the Royal Intelligence Department.

Of course, that was now a thing of the past.

Zigmund’s exploits would remain a legend alongside the illustrious past of the Imperial Guard HQ. Just like the name Domoboy would only be heard in myths.

However, there was still one final passage left to put a period on that legend.

“Bring it here.”

As the first director gestured, the counterintelligence officer tore off a piece of memo paper and handed it to Ekaterina.

“This is the last message Domoboy sent us just before escaping from Abas.”

[Shizuya. One week later. Gift purchase planned.]

Ekaterina’s gaze diverted from the memo. She carefully opened her mouth to ask.

“What exactly does ‘gift purchase planned’ mean?”

“It means that there’s still information left that Zigmund is going to extract from Abas.”

The last piece of information.

The investigator of the Imperial Guard HQ murmured softly, lost in thought.

Typically, the escape process of a double agent is urgent. Most of the time, the need to flee arises when their identity is exposed. The enemy would inevitably notice the presence of a traitor and immediately pursue them, leaving no choice but to flee for their lives.

Yet, to be bringing out information at the last moment?

“…….”

Ekaterina alternated her gaze between the counterintelligence officer and the director at the top. The director, who had been silent, gazed into her eyes for a brief moment and then ordered the officers to step out of the meeting room.

As the senior officials began to rise from their seats and exit the conference room, the soundproof door was locked tightly once they were outside.

Finally, the director, Ilya Nikolaevich, who had been maintaining his silence, answered softly.

“What we want most.”

“…….”

“You’ll probably find out if you go check.”

Ilya Nikolaevich didn’t ask if Ekaterina could bring Zigmund back safely. He knew that if it was Ekaterina, she would be the one to set everything aside to lend her support.

She was someone who could never suppress her curiosity. That was why she even took off her military uniform to go fetch him.

So, the director didn’t bother asking about any medical advice.

Instead, he merely offered a suggestion.

“Ekaterina Andreevna, if Domoboy wants something, grant it. My guess is that it might take a bit longer, so keep that in mind as well.”

“…….”

“And remember that securing Domoboy is our top priority.”

The director then asked.

“Do you understand what I mean?”

*

Awakening to the plush sensation of a bed, I blinked my eyes open.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ekaterina tidied her disheveled hair.

“…Any contact?”

The colleague on standby replied.

“The information officers have arrived at the nearby border. Although there are still places they can’t escape from as the operation isn’t over yet, two teams are on standby.”

I continued what I was saying while munching on the bowl of warm oatmeal soaked in milk.

“But are you sure this will be alright? It’s still a military confrontation within Ashtistan, even if we are allies; the locals won’t just stand idly by.”

“…They should stay quiet. If they want to continue exporting magic stones to us next year.”

“What a warm alliance we have.”

“What about Domoboy?”

“He’s tidying up at his original accommodation and moving to another place. He’ll head to an imperial hotel. For now, he wants to gather news of his family before starting.”

“…….”

Ekaterina pulled back her bangs and approached the window.

The sky was filled with dull, gray clouds.

It looked as if it would pour down rain at any moment.

*

“How do you plan to catch the double agent?”

Frederick asked Matt while flicking the ash from his cigarette.

“I’ll have to set a bait.”

“Bait?”

“The mother and daughter you were chasing after. They’ll be the bait.”

As Matt strolled over to the terminal stored in Hadrick, he returned with a few sheets of paper.

“Here’s the information you had requested from Jake.”

“Where did this come from? No, more importantly, are you confessing that you eavesdropped on me?”

“Surveillance would be one way to put it. It was already prepared, to be honest. I wouldn’t have been able to find it without you.”

“Oh my…. What a shameful thing to say.”

Frederick laughed briefly before grabbing the documents and studying them closely for quite a while.

“…….”

Frederick removed his gaze from the documents, tidied them up, and returned them to Matt while asking.

“Zigmund? Is that the man who’s targeting me?”

“Correct.”

“The mother and daughter you captured this time are his family?”

“Yes, they were the women who fled when you fired your gun down there.”

“…….”

Suddenly, a quiet chuckle was heard.

Matt glanced at Frederick, who was snickering softly.

“What’s so funny? Is it absurd to threaten someone with their family as hostages?”

“No. It’s just that I started thinking about it all of a sudden.”

A corpse marked for death isn’t the same as an old man wondering what kind of unexpected event he could orchestrate at the end of his life.

Perhaps he wanted to destroy everything he had built with his own hands.

Frederick mumbled absentmindedly toward the Azadi Palace visible beyond the window.

For your information, ‘Azadi’ means ‘peace’ in Persian.

“He really does seem to love peace.”

Side Episode – Another Peaceful Day in Ashtistan – END –

 

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