---

Zigmund looked out of Vanya’s window, puffing on a cigarette.

The once colorless, odorless steam that wafted through the air had long been replaced by an old, musty smell.

Inside the sauna, a hazy cloud filled with either cigarette smoke or steam enveloped the space, a frustrating blend of loneliness and stuffiness swirling around him.

It was the kind of odor that Helen detested, but after having exposed his patience to the elements for far too long, he felt it was nearly impossible to endure without lighting a smoke.

…Huff.

Right after blowing out a cloud of smoke mixed with a sigh, Zigmund muttered as if he were an angry person.

“What is going on here?”

High concentration, rock-solid patience, and honest confidence were virtues of an information agent.

Such was the advice left to his disciples by his former instructor.

Thanks to the deep-seated wisdom instilled in him, Zigmund had managed to overcome numerous crises since his days as a field agent. When agents were discovered, when enemies reached the front door, when the barrel of a gun held by someone he thought was a friend was pressed against his head.

Zigmund promised himself that he would not forget his instructor’s counsel as he narrowly escaped death on various occasions.

However, right now, that patience was being tested.

The Royal Intelligence Department, which regarded indecisiveness and duplicity as virtues, never failed to surprise him with their lack of decisiveness.

Having requested a meeting, they had yet to show their face even after thirty long minutes had passed.

At first, Zigmund wondered if he was being tailed, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

But after more than thirty minutes of waiting, the absence of the contact only served to highlight the Royal Intelligence Department’s poor resolution.

“Huff…”

They’d have the courage to kidnap a mother and daughter in the heart of enemy territory, but lack the guts to meet me at an imperial hotel’s sauna, it seems?

Zigmund snorted and took another puff, exhaling the smoke.

If only he could pick up the phone and say, “What kind of childish game is this?” But, instead, he resolved to squeeze the last bit of his patience and wait just a little longer.

Clearing his mind with cold water after sweating it out, he meticulously checked that no one was around to peek into room 3 and kept an eye out for his contact.

And only a while later…

*Rrrrring!*

A call came in.

—

Episode 20 – Who Was Threatening with a Knife?

When the internal phone for room 3 rang loudly, Zigmund had just stepped outside to the shared swimming pool to cool off.

“It’s really hot in the sauna. I used to be able to tolerate it for hours. Guess I’m getting old now.”

“Time waits for no one, right, Evgeny?”

With his lower body submerged in ice-cold water, Zigmund asked the man for affirmation. Evgeny, a Caucasian man, nodded his head repeatedly, affirming that indeed, it was true.

As his name suggests, this man was a citizen of the Kien Empire.

In Kien culture, it is customary to use both one’s name and an honorific that ends in ~vich or ~nova, but the man simply introduced himself as Evgeny.

There was no need to think too deeply about it. As Zigmund knew, Kien people often just introduced each other by name in relaxed settings.

It goes without saying that there was no need for formalities in a spa where everyone strolled around either completely naked or in swimsuits.

“Mmm—”

The middle-aged Kien man, Evgeny, took a gulp from his drink and exclaimed.

“This vodka tastes great. Drinking after sweating is the best!”

“Do they sell alcohol here? I’ve heard it’s prohibited.”

“Alcohol is sold only at hotels in Ashtistan. The laws don’t apply to foreigners. Just show your passport at the bar downstairs to buy some.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. But, it seems it’s not just foreigners who can buy it?”

Zigmund glanced sideways, making it clear, and Evgeny followed his gaze.

Near the Mandara Spa’s shared swimming pool were quite a few Ashtistanis gathered. They were clearly young and stylish.

They spoke Kien with impressive pronunciation, but Zigmund, accustomed to the accent, easily recognized it as an ‘Ashtistani Kien accent.’

Native speakers were evident.

“Hah.”

Embarrassed, Evgeny, who chuckled awkwardly, rubbed his neck, heated from the sauna and alcohol, and replied.

“Just because they’re Ashtistani doesn’t mean they’ll shy away from alcohol, right?”

“That’s a good point.”

“Go check out the casino in the basement. You’ll see how many people are down there.”

Zigmund couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in agreement with the Kien man’s jest.

He understood why the local youth were acting foolishly in foreign languages while indulging in alcohol.

Foreign hotels were lawless zones free from the Republic’s prohibition laws, and once money entered the bartender’s pocket, nationalities ceased to matter.

That meant they were slipping the bartender a little bribe to secretly buy a drink and were having their own party down here.

Of course, what they were doing was illegal.

If this fact were to catch the attention of the Law Enforcement Corps officers, the youngsters would spend tonight locked up in a jail cell.

Bumping shoulders in a cramped, unsanitary cell with over thirty people, the pretty girl could face harassment from officials, and the men strutting around would likely have their heads smashed by batons.

It was as obvious as the sun rising. Such was the typical treatment of citizens caught by the Law Enforcement Corps in the Republic of Ashtistan.

But these youngsters had nothing to worry about when it came to an unpleasant night.

More accurately, the Law Enforcement Corps wouldn’t be apprehending them whether they conflated it with drugs or anything else.

This was because how could a mere law enforcement member treat someone who could trade a bottle of vodka for six months of wages for a worker in the Republic of Ashtistan?

Even if they were caught, they could be out of jail in a matter of minutes, and slip a third of the vodka’s cost to the officers, and they would ensure the youngsters made it home safely.

Zigmund himself once escaped from a jail in Shizuya by paying bribes that didn’t even add up to 700 shekels. This was when he had been caught sneaking into a military facility.

“Good times.”

With a smile, Zigmund shook his head, watching the young layabouts and remembering the good old days.

Having worked as a field agent in both the Kingdom of Ashtistan and the Republic of Ashtistan, there was a reason he was acting like a first-time visitor in this place.

Officially, the alias Zigmund was using, ‘Dryman,’ had never been to Ashtistan before. He needed to act as a foreigner who seemed to be on their first visit to the place.

Of course, once the Royal Intelligence Department noticed his existence, the value of the identity ‘Dryman’ diminished somewhat; however, the organizations he needed to deceive included not only the Kingdom of Abas but also security agencies within the Republic of Ashtistan.

If the people of Shizuya realized he had entered, it was highly likely that another pursuer would attach themselves to him.

While it would’ve been a piece of cake to ask the Imperial Guard HQ for help escaping Ashtistan, leaving now would mean he could never see his family again, who would be at the mercy of the Royal Intelligence Department.

His play-acting was crucial for that reason.

“My wife loves vodka. It’s good to find out.”

Though he spent a tedious time waiting for a contact from the Royal Intelligence Department, fortunately, Zigmund was not the sort to hesitate to approach complete strangers.

Also, it didn’t match Zigmund’s temperament to waste time idly.

For the last thirty minutes, he had checked all potential threats existing within the Mandara Spa. He looked for anyone watching him from a spot that allowed him to see room 3 and the whole spa, monitoring passersby to see if anyone frequently entered and exited for notifications.

The middle-aged Kien man by the name Evgeny was the most ‘un-suspicious’ individual Zigmund had encountered throughout this process within the Mandara Spa.

“Your wife loves vodka?”

“Indeed. By the way, is it considered disgraceful for a woman to enjoy a drink in the Empire?”

“No! Of course not! I mean, nobody would like someone who drowns in alcohol, but vodka is something everyone enjoys. My wife does too.”

“Does she like beer?”

“That’s just a soft drink, not real alcohol.”

Holding a bottle of vodka under his arm while enjoying the sauna alone, Evgeny surprisingly turned out to be a mathematician teaching at a prestigious university.

Coincidentally, the university he worked at was his alma mater, a place Zigmund had heard many times while working at the Petrogard branch.

“What does Dryman do?”

“I work for a corporation. If I put it nicely, I’m a salaried employee, and if I’m cynical, just a wage slave. My company mainly operates in consulting.”

“Oh! Sounds like a fascinating job. I’ve only done research my whole life, so I don’t know much about corporate work. It always sounds so interesting to hear about.”

“What’s so fascinating about being salaried? What brings you to Shizuya, Evgeny?”

He explained that there was a conference gathering academics that he would be attending, set to be held in Ashtistan.

Zigmund double-checked that Evgeny was a safe person, meaning someone who had no connection with the intelligence agency. He also noted that Evgeny had become a regular at the Mandara Spa.

If Evgeny was knowledgeable about the spa’s situation, then he would easily guess why the Royal Intelligence Department chose this place for their meeting.

Perhaps it was because many foreigners frequented the hotel, meaning visitors wouldn’t be raised in suspicion if an information officer came through, or because there was something unique here not found at other spas.

The small bits of information he let slip would undoubtedly build towards a bigger picture.

—

Building rapport was what Zigmund needed to do first.

Through a brief conversation with Evgeny, he began pulling out information regarding this middle-aged Kien man’s job, hometown, family ties, interests, and tastes.

Evgeny, drinking vodka at the sauna, proved to be a true enthusiast. The devoted husband who had a wife and child, it seemed.

Zigmund wondered if he could form a friendship over the shared theme of family, but contrary to appearances, Evgeny didn’t seem to be the kind of husband who adored his wife.

Whenever Zigmund touched upon the topics of ‘home’ or ‘wife,’ the way Evgeny deftly changed the subject implied that he didn’t want to discuss it further.

With that, he switched topics.

Now it was back to alcohol.

The moment Zigmund lightly brought up the subject of drinks, Evgeny visibly transformed.

As if someone who couldn’t afford to buy cigarettes had just discovered a pack that he had tucked away in his coat, Evgeny scrunched his reddened nose and passionately recited odes to alcohol.

Zigmund also managed to identify a few more ‘un-suspicious individuals’ along with the drunken mathematician. A senior couple who were enjoying imperial bread while being pampered by a stick made of intertwined grass also made up part of the group.

The elderly couple, looking to be well over seventy, introduced themselves as scholars and researchers in academia, just like Evgeny.

The husband, who would have been around the same age as Zigmund’s late father, worked as a researcher in astrophysics, while the wife taught astrology.

Zigmund couldn’t resist throwing a question their way regarding the intriguing background of a ‘magician-scientist couple.’

“Your husband is a scientist, but you are a magician? I’m curious about how you two met.”

“He was late, and while jumping over the academy wall with a broom, he fell on my head. I was in student council back then. That was our first meeting.”

“Geez. He says he wasn’t late at all.”

“Oh, come on, I saw him jump over the gate after I had already locked it. Don’t deny it.”

“I shut it two minutes early. I could clearly see someone coming.”

“Then why didn’t you arrive a bit earlier instead? Otherwise, you shouldn’t have come at all.”

The senior couple, who had stopped by the sauna to unwind, instantly recognized Evgeny, who reciprocated their gaze just as swiftly.

They appeared to be quite the famous intellectuals. Perhaps they sparked interest in people like Zigmund.

Coincidentally, the couple was also set to attend the conference taking place in Ashtistan, the same one Evgeny had planned to join.

Astrologer, astrophysicist, and mathematician.

Zigmund had a hunch that the event these three planned to attend was linked to the universe or aerospace. Officially, they were set to attend a science-magic exchange event, but just looking at it, it was evident that the attendees’ research field was all related to aerodynamics.

Was the Law Enforcement Corps recruiting researchers from various countries to replace the Oqab, which was taken from Abas?

Or had they been attempting to develop a new weapon system long before the recent incident?

Whatever the reason, the fact that Evgeny’s attention had shifted to the newly appearing elderly couple was a good sign.

Even if he cautiously got up to leave, Evgeny would be so engrossed in conversation that he’d probably forget who Zigmund was and whom he had been talking to today.

“…”

Stepping away from the scene, Zigmund swiftly compiled the information gathered from conversations with Evgeny and the elderly couple.

First, the Mandara Spa was open to non-guests. While the cost differs, one doesn’t necessarily have to be a hotel guest to visit.

Evgeny mentioned he had initially stayed at a different hotel before moving to this one.

The implication being that outsiders could come and go with little suspicion.

—

Secondly, the primary guests of the Mandara Spa were foreigners. It served primarily those foreigners residing within the Republic of Ashtistan.

Officially, the spa, bar, and casino facilities operating in this hotel were all exclusive to foreigners. However, in reality, locals frequented it often.

Since the administrators in charge of verifying passports were corrupt, that had become the norm. Despite being part of an imperial hotel, the employees were mostly local hires.

It was highly likely that the person responsible for leaking information about the room Zigmund was staying in was also a hotel staff member.

That meant if the intelligence officer wanted, they could move about freely through this hotel.

And thirdly…

“Evgeny, since you’ve been here often, I must ask: Is there anything special about the Mandara Spa that the others don’t have?”

“Well, there’s plenty. At other hotel spas, drinking is prohibited while here, it’s allowed.”

“Hmm… Any other peculiarities?”

“I just realized there is one other thing. The bulletin board right out front.”

“A bulletin board?”

“It’s the kind you’d see in old cafes, you know? Where young friends would leave notes saying when and where they would hang out, or ‘return this borrowed book’ back in the day before everyone had smartphones, and anyone could afford a recording device. Sort of a messaging system. Sometimes love letters would be stuck up there too. Contact them if you liked it.”

“…”

“Oh come on, were you one of those who found love on it? That just sounds like experience speaking.”

“Uh… Professor. That’s not my story. I absolutely have never done such a thing, so please don’t tell my wife.”

Zigmund opted for a light gown before heading to the spot Evgeny and the elderly couple mentioned.

It was a small space located in one corner of the spa. There, he discovered a not-so-large bulletin board.

The board was seemingly full of notes as many guests had passed through this place, and Zigmund caught sight of an exceedingly ordinary-looking note.

《8-11, Menvbashi Plaza, Shizuya, Shizuya Province. 35° 42′ 7″ N / 51° 26′ 42″ E. 0043.》

Fastened with a green thumbtack, the note pointed to a specific location within Shizuya. It was the subway station named after the great revolutionary leader. The instruction, to arrive at that location by 12:43 AM.

Having spent several years in Ashtistan, Zigmund immediately recognized it was a note the Royal Intelligence Department had pinned. Moreover, he realized that it was the time just before the last subway of the day would pass through the station.

“…Is this a plan or a change?”

Zigmund pondered. Why would the Royal Intelligence Department, who had summoned him as a spy, change locations?

They might never have intended to meet at the Mandara Spa in the first place and instead called him here just to determine if the Imperial Guard HQ had been tailing him from outside, like he had.

Or perhaps the plan had shifted.

If the Royal Intelligence Department had indeed chosen the spa as the initial meeting point and later altered it, the reason could only be one.

Someone was tailing him.

Someone he hadn’t noticed.

“…”

Zigmund instinctively thought that the ‘two customers, male and female’ the desk clerk mentioned could be the pursuers.

If the Royal Intelligence Department had been surveilling the Mandara Spa before the meeting and noticed two suspicious guests had booked out on short notice, that could raise their skepticism.

If those guests inadvertently triggered the Royal Intelligence Department’s alert, then two individual, suspicious associates may well be at the arranged meeting place of a double agent who had betrayed them. As the head of intelligence, Zigmund knew that “a team of two or three” formed the minimal basic unit for surveillance activities.

…What rotten luck.

Returning to room 3, Zigmund first contacted the desk clerk.

He needed to confirm who the guests had been that had booked at short notice and if they had already arrived.

“Yes, this is Dryman.”

—“Ah, sir! What luck! I was just about to contact you.”

Upon hearing the voice from the receiver, Zigmund sensed something was wrong.

You intended to ‘contact again’? Did that mean someone attempted to reach me while I was away?

Damn it.

“Ah, yes, thank you.”

Zigmund wiped his dry face and quickly questioned the clerk.

“I was inquiring about whether my friends had arrived. Haha. I was briefly away. Did they arrive in the meantime?”

Please, no.

If the others had come while he was on the line, he might have trouble slipping away without bumping into them.

—“Yes, they just arrived a moment ago.”

“How good! How long ago was it?”

—“Well, I would say… about a minute? Probably not even two minutes…”

Zigmund swiftly concluded the conversation and commenced moving to the spa’s exit.

With that little time, he could manage to hide and sneak out unnoticed.

Leaving behind the drunken Evgeny, the odd couple, and his youthful companions lost in revelry, Zigmund hurried across to the entrance.

As he calculated his escape route in his mind and timed himself, he grasped the handle of the door.

-Drreeeek!

Just then, someone on the opposite side opened the door and entered the spa.

It wasn’t an incorrect statement. If an Information Officer were to meet with an enemy Information Agency Agent, anyone would surely think of the possibility of a double agent, especially if the location were foreign.

However, the Imperial Guard HQ staff only blamed Zigmund as if hearing a bizarre noise.

“That would only be true if your identity hasn’t been exposed. From the moment William was arrested by the Royal Intelligence Department, you were practically half-exposed. You knew that and left for Shizuya, didn’t you?”

“…That was true. But that doesn’t mean it’s fine for us to meet here, in Shizuya.”

“Relax. I’m just here to enjoy the sauna. Just as you were leisurely sweating it out.”

“Why do I have to end up in Mandara with you?”

“Because it’s an imperial hotel. Even if a civil servant went abroad, would they let tax money flow elsewhere?”

“…….”

“I decide when and where to be. Not you. And….”

An Imperial Guard HQ staff member stepped closer to Zigmund and added.

“Since we’ve bumped into each other, shouldn’t I pass by like a customer? What do you hope to gain by dragging this conversation out? What business do two foreigners with no acquaintance have together?”

The Section Chief of the Imperial Guard HQ, Ekaterina, shot Zigmund a glance and finished her statement.

Zigmund gazed back at her.

In that moment, Zigmund took a deep breath and lowered his voice.

“You came in, I was about to leave; it’s an uncomfortable meeting, so let’s just pretend it was a mistake and apologize. Nobody else would think anything of it.”

“Alright.”

The two acted like guests engaged in a comically awkward moment over just one door, bowing slightly and forcing embarrassed smiles.

To any bystander unaware of the situation, it might have seemed like they were close enough to touch shoulders.

“My apologies, ma’am. I made a mistake in my haste to leave.”

“No, sir. I’m the one who should apologize. It looks like your clothes are dirty; would you like them cleaned?”

Cleaning was one of the safety signals established by the Imperial Guard HQ. It meant, “There’s a problem, and I need help.”

Zigmund immediately shook his head.

“It’s fine. Nothing’s dirty.”

He didn’t need help. Zigmund clearly stated that.

The real meaning was closer to “There’s no reason for the Imperial Guard HQ to assist, so just disappear from before me,” but Ekaterina simply smiled and offered a non-apology.

“I’ll treat you to tea when you come out of the spa later. I feel terrible about this.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Don’t refuse.”

“…….”

Ekaterina kept her smile, encouraging him to have that tea.

It meant “Let’s meet,” under the guise of kindness.

If he were to refuse the meeting, it was a signal that the guard would not help Zigmund. Of course, it could also be an over-interpretation born of stress, and the HQ might just mean to discuss Zigmund’s defection again.

After all, haven’t words always depended on interpretation?

Speaking and understanding, after all, are human jobs. And Zigmund was a man who had dealt with people all his life.

“…If that’s the case, then. Alright, let’s do it.”

Immediately after hearing his response, Ekaterina moved past him and entered the spa.

Zigmund noticed a group of men who came into the spa after her, but couldn’t tell who among them belonged to the Imperial Guard HQ duo.

The flocking group of young men all looked similar to one another, and they moved around in twos and threes. Some were chatting earnestly, while others just walked around without exchanging words.

If a Guard HQ staff member of nomadic desert blood was mingled in with the crowd, Zigmund wouldn’t have been able to spot him either.

Above all, it would look strange if the man who had just intended to leave suddenly started staring at these men.

“…This is quite tangled.”

Zigmund muttered shortly and hurried out of the spa for a drink of water.

Damn, he still had 50 minutes left on the timer.

*

-Splash, splash.

With every step on the floor, the sound of water was heard. A woman with black hair cascading over her white neck entered the room.

The warm heat lingering around the banya created a pleasantly cozy atmosphere. A strangely comforting steam tickled her skin.

Ekaterina entered the reserved room, taking her seat. She closed her eyes and began meditating to collect her thoughts.

Click, as she opened her eyes at the sound of the door. Standing before her was an imperial citizen, quite similar in appearance to a local from the Mauritania Continent. He was casually surveying the surroundings as he entered the room.

“Domoboy just left a moment ago. He should be back soon.”

The Interpreter from the Foreign Language Department of the Imperial Guard HQ, Kiril, informed Ekaterina of Zigmund’s condition.

The two Imperial Guard HQ staff members visiting Mandara Spa looked no different from regular guests. Dressed in swimsuits and casual wear, with large towels draping over their lower halves.

At first glance, they appeared to be nothing but ordinary tourists.

Of course, their purpose was not leisure, but work.

“Thanks for stalling earlier. I thought I was going to freak out when I ran into Domoboy.”

“Did I stall? That was him who delayed things. He managed to slip in without getting caught, huh?”

“A bunch of locals swarmed in. Did you see those guys who just came in? They secretly followed us in.”

Kiril pointed at the local group that passed by Zigmund moments ago, chuckling at them. The cluster of men had been scattered around.

If they had been ordinary imperial citizens, he would have stood out among their brown skin, but Kiril had Ashthistani Kien heritage. In simpler terms, he was mixed-race.

His background meant a lot in this mission. The Imperial Guard HQ knew that differing skin colors attract attention, so the management strongly recommended Kiril, who was mixed-race and fluent in the local language, as Ekaterina’s assistant.

Ekaterina glanced at the group he pointed at and muttered.

“They’ve been eyeing me from behind since earlier.”

“I think it was lower than the back of your head.”

“You’ve developed a habit of sneaking glances at others’ backsides?”

“No.”

Kiril shook his head fervently in denial.

“It just occurred to me.”

“This idiot….”

Hearing the absurdity of his remark, Ekaterina began chuckling in disbelief. There had been rumors among the colleagues that he wasn’t interested in women or that perhaps Kiril was liking men instead; he seemed to play along with it.

While Kiril briefly faded away at these rumors circulating amongst the colleagues, Ekaterina kept her voice calm.

“Has it been around 30? 40 minutes since Domoboy entered the banya?”

Ekaterina asked.

“Has anyone suspicious come in or out?”

“There was a handler.”

Kiril replied, stating, “There was a foreigner who came in and left 30 minutes later.” He also subtly added, “Giorgi’s information agents are marking now.”

“The support staff from the 6th department have released their people to follow him. The rest are keeping an eye around this hotel.”

“Let them know to inform me if anything comes up. Don’t hesitate with the reward for the informants; we have enough of that.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“By the way, how’s Shandor? Did the communications department yield anything?”

Kiril nodded and confirmed.

“We’ve recruited the head of the state-owned telecom. If Domoboy uses a mobile phone, they can help us with cloning or eavesdropping. The same goes for the other guys’ phones.”

“Well, that was a surprisingly easy agreement. I expected he’d refuse a few times.”

“Shandor and the 6th department did their homework beforehand. We agreed to meet his demands.”

“For now, let’s only focus on Domoboy. Just like now.”

Ekaterina and Kiril were currently observing Zigmund, who was using the Mandara Spa.

While it wouldn’t be a problem if either Shandor from the 6th department or Giorgi, the intelligence support officer, entered the spa, if Zigmund spotted them, things would definitely become restricted. So, Ekaterina entered, taking the place of the two support officers.

An investigator from the Imperial Guard HQ narrowed his eyes, gazing toward the entrance.

“What do you think Domoboy did here all alone?”

The database stated that Zigmund had always enjoyed the banya.

As a double agent, he often met with Imperial Guard HQ officers at Kien-style saunas, having chosen establishments like Mandara Spa where foreign guests were abundant as major meeting points.

Kiril, glancing at Ekaterina’s profile, spoke up.

“Could he have been meeting someone? He worked in Shizuya, so he must have had plenty of informants? And he’s also looking for a gift that the higher-ups would like.”

What that gift was, none knew for sure.

“Or maybe he just came to relieve stress. After all, don’t agents from Department 2 also sometimes unwind their own way? Domoboy might want to relax in the banya since he was in charge of the overseas department.”

“It sounds a bit suspicious to me….”

Ekaterina immediately expressed her doubts.

His dual identity had been exposed, and his family had disappeared. So suddenly wanting to relieve stress by going to a sauna? Doesn’t that sound strange?

However, Kiril insisted that because of precisely those reasons, it was highly likely he came for that.

“I don’t see any reason for it to be unusual. Right? He was outed as a spy, his wife seems to have disappeared with the kids, and no one knows who might come after him. He must be under a heap of stress, on the verge of losing his mind; wouldn’t he want to take a quick breather?”

“…Hmm.”

There was nothing incorrect about his claim. Kiril’s assertion had some reasoning behind it.

Ekaterina contemplated the report she would write about Zigmund’s mental state back at the office and posed a question to Kiril.

“Did Abbas’ movements get checked by Counterintelligence? They reportedly intercepted communications from the embassies stationed in Mauritania.”

“Yeah, it’s clean. Nothing has come out.”

“To such an extent that it raises suspicion….”

“It’s so clean it seems suspicious.”

A double agent. Especially a high-ranking Information Officer, a defector meant to safeguard the intelligence aspect.

Under normal circumstances, by now, secret communications should have been flooding into the embassy regarding whether anyone knew Zigmund’s location, if anyone had met or spoken to him recently, and so on.

But the Royal Intelligence Department remained silent.

Ekaterina crossed her arms and mumbled to herself.

“…Aside from William, other contacts have gone silent.”

Originally, the contacts assigned to Zigmund by the Imperial Guard HQ were not William, who was just arrested. Zigmund had been working for the HQ long before William betrayed Abbas.

The HQ had assigned him countless contacts, most of whom were now untraceable.

Now that their employment relations were severed, there was no reason to reach out to those stray contacts again. They were merely errand boys collecting classified materials left behind by Zigmund to pass on.

Both officially and unofficially, they were all foreigners, unrelated to the Empire. And they had to be.

But immediately after William’s arrest, the officials tried to reactivate the long-dormant network of contacts to check on their status, but the expected responses never came.

The higher-ups were considering the possibility that all the contacts had been captured or executed.

Of course, that possibility mostly seemed like a certainty to Ekaterina.

“But how could there be no orders from the Royal Intelligence Department? Something feels off.”

“I think so too, Ekaterina. The higher-ups are thinking the same way.”

The possibility arose.

Ekaterina claimed that Zigmund’s suspicious behavior, the Royal Intelligence Department’s silence, and the disappearance of his acquaintances might all be connected. There was a chance that Zigmund had defected again for some reason.

Kiril agreed that it wasn’t a completely impossible scenario but insisted that they shouldn’t suspect Zigmund until they found solid evidence.

To put it precisely.

“Being cautious is good. But Ekaterina. What if Zigmund finds out that we suspect him? That could lead to no one knowing what could happen.”

“That’s true.”

“Let’s be careful, then. At least let’s not show it in front of him.”

The two decided to closely monitor Zigmund’s movements while at Mandara Spa.

After all, that had been their plan from the beginning.

Kiril said, “It looks like Domoboy might return soon, so I’ll head out,” and left the room. By the way, the 6th department support officers were set to inform them about what Zigmund did outside. Specifically, Shandor and Giorgi were keeping tabs outside the spa.

They could have gone directly outside but Ekaterina lingered a little longer. To ensure that no other guests would notice that she had been in the same space as Kiril, she exited into the shared area after enough time had passed.

“Ahh.”

Once outside the banya, the cool air cooled her warmed skin. Perhaps it was because she had just used a birch broom to pat herself down thoroughly. She felt her skin had become somewhat smoother, and her face was swollen red like an apple.

Ekaterina entered the public swimming pool to release the heat further. Kiril was idly checking around while munching on food he purchased from the spa.

“Who’s drinking during work hours?”

As she entered the water and then climbed out, Ekaterina lightly reprimanded her colleague.

Regardless, Kiril looked elsewhere and naturally brought a beer to his lips.

“It’s gone lukewarm. It definitely was an ice cube when I bought it. What kind of beer is this….”

“Drink some water.”

“Buy it with your own money. Or drink the pool water.”

Ekaterina shook the ice-filled water bottle, contemplating. To be honest, it wasn’t bad.

It would have been better if there had been snow or an ocean instead; however, this was a desert where even the oases were scarce, so it was unavoidable.

-Creak.

Just as she was about to prepare to return to the banya after soaking in the cool water, someone opened the door and entered the spa.

Kiril glanced over at the entrance and muttered as he looked down. “Domoboy.”

Ekaterina confirmed via the clock on the wall that not much time had passed since. If Shandor and Giorgi had been monitoring precisely what Zigmund had been doing outside, the situation would be utterly flawless.

“Let’s borrow a light.”

As Kiril was about to split off in the opposite direction, Zigmund approached him to speak, using unnaturally perfect Ashthistani.

Kiril pretended not to notice Zigmund standing in front of him. He took out a lighter and handed it over without a word.

Zigmund took the lighter, lighting a cigarette with it. The cigarette dangled from his lips as he exhaled thin wisps of smoke.

“Were you alone?”

Zigmund asked while inhaling the gradually rising smoke.

In that fleeting moment, Kiril assumed that Zigmund may be suspecting him. Thus, he deflected by denying.

“I came with friends. Just some buddies.”

The investigator casually glanced at the group he had secretly mingled with earlier. The men who had been grouped together were now scattered throughout the spa.

The seasoned Information Officer followed Zigmund’s gaze, examining the faces of the men, and then returned the lighter.

He naturally needed to leave the scene. Since he had intended to rise from his seat just moments ago, the investigator wasted no time exiting the area.

In the seat where the investigator had just departed, a half-drunk beer bottle, an ashtray with no ashes, and a plate with food crumbs remained. It was a seat he had marked, as if he would return at any moment, but the Information Officer didn’t concern himself with such things.

Zigmund then took the seat vacated by Kiril.

“Stepping outside just made the back of my head feel oddly hot—how embarrassing.”

Ekaterina, neither too close nor too far, quietly spoke up.

“You must think they’re just guards.”

Zigmund surely knew they were tailing him. Even if he hadn’t yet realized it.

Ekaterina chose to acknowledge rather than deny. After all, if Zigmund had truly confirmed the guards, he would figure it out as soon as she denied it, and if they failed to locate the guards today, it would be only a matter of time before he found out.

Shandor and Giorgi couldn’t have been discovered as they were monitoring Zigmund from a distance, not physically tailing him.

If they were caught, it would be the fault of Giorgi’s errand boys loitering outside the hotel, who made a foolish mistake.

In that case, it would be better to admit it and show sincerity.

“Isn’t it excessive to have guys who are either cops or thugs among the guards?”

Zigmund spilled out what could be interpreted as a grumble or sarcasm. Ekaterina responded effortlessly.

“They’re mainly police from the royal era. Some of them are from the military or information agencies too.”

“I’m aware those guys loafing around the main road and the back entrance are folks who threw in the towel after being police. Their movements clearly resemble those of secret police.”

The cigarette ember flared, and smoke poked through his lips.

“Maybe because they fell into dire straits after the kingdom collapsed. I’m not sure if they can handle an intelligence department.”

“At least they won’t just fill numbers and leave it at that.”

Through the wavering smoke, the investigator’s eyes tracked Ekaterina.

“…If it comes to it, use them as shields?”

The investigator shrugged, casting Zigmund a sideways glance.

“Weren’t you thinking of that anyway?”

The Information Officer remained silent. He kept his silence.

The investigator did not question further. She too held her tongue.

There were no additional words to offer.

Both found their own answers.

“If you have need of it, call for me.”

“Do as you please.”

A cigarette was stuck in the empty ashtray. Seizing the timing to end the conversation, Zigmund stood up without hesitation.

Chatting with a woman younger than him just felt like a waste of time, and he could even risk becoming suspicious.

Ekaterina didn’t even glance towards Zigmund as he moved toward room three. Her gaze shifted to Kiril, who was monitoring Zigmund from the opposite side.

Kiril placed a hand on his right shoulder and turned his neck and arms significantly. Exactly two turns.

This was the signal that Zigmund had not contacted anyone.

-Splash.

As Ekaterina left the swimming pool, she naturally moved toward the room. Zigmund also headed toward room number three without unnecessarily going outside.

-Slam!

Suddenly, a woman and what seemed to be her entourage barged in, raising their voices, and all eyes quickly turned in that direction.

Naturally, the focus of the three individuals who were most wary of the intruders was also directed at them.

Kiril felt something familiar from the red-haired woman shouting loudly and looked at his colleague with a questioning face.

Ekaterina was staring at the entrance in sheer disbelief.

And Zigmund doubted his own eyes.

“Whoa! Why are you slamming the door around like it’s a riot?!”

“Huh…? I’m sure I was trying to open it gently?”

“Gently? Who do you think you are, trying to smash the hotel door like its the Indochina Peninsula?!”

“Why is the conversation about India coming up here?!”

“Because it’s the baggage of white people. Just carry it willingly.”

“That’s America!”

“America is the lovechild of England and the result of not using condoms, as noted in the Louvre’s collections of the Mesopotamian stele, the Code of Hammurabi, and the watermelon.”

“That’s outright nonsense!”

 

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