Chapter 63
“Alright, the night is deep, so let’s save the chit-chat for later. Let’s wrap up this meeting first.”
As I sat there in a daze, caught under the gaze of my former superior who I thought was long gone, the Chief of the Royal Intelligence Department stepped in to lighten the mood.
“Let’s do that.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
With the top brass of the two intelligence agencies reaching a consensus, the meeting resumed. The Royal Intelligence Department was the first to grab the microphone.
“The reason we’ve brought all of you esteemed guests and the Colonel here is…”
The Chief of the Royal Intelligence Department cleared his throat and smiled gently.
Then he swung the bat, striking down at the Military Intelligence Agency.
“What I want to say is that we hope you can hand over this overseas project from the Magic Tower to the Royal Intelligence Department.”
—
**Episode 4 – Why Is It Only Me?**
The relationship between the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency is more complicated than one might think.
In some ways, it could be more convoluted than the relationship between the National Intelligence Service and the Defense Security Command.
Both the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency publicly uphold a stance of “protecting national security through mutual cooperation.” However, behind the scenes, they harbored the intention of “suppressing each other to climb above.”
Why do these two intelligence agencies maintain a relationship of rivalry and confrontation instead of cooperation?
The answer to this question is singular.
It’s all due to ‘the interest of the head of government.’
In authoritarian nations, intelligence agencies compete for the favor of the dictator, while in democratic countries, they compete for the attention of the president.
That favor and attention manifests in various forms. And the most direct way to demonstrate a leader’s attention is through the ‘budget.’
Intelligence agencies are state institutions and all funds they utilize come from officially allocated budgets. It’s a given that in order to receive these allocations, they must pass through the regular meetings of the parliamentary standing committee and budget reviews.
Like any other government department or state institution, without ‘achievements,’ it’s tough to receive generous budgets for the next year. Consequently, countless intelligence agencies around the world wriggle and struggle just to secure even a crumb of funding.
And naturally, this fact holds true in this neighborhood as well.
“Overseas project? You mean to say you want to hand over the mission of tracking the background of the spies to the Royal Intelligence Department?”
“Yes.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
It was a question that was, in essence, not really a question at all.
How the Royal Intelligence Department perceived the Military Intelligence Agency’s operations wasn’t important.
After all, they were an intelligence agency.
With the question from the head of the Military Intelligence Agency lingering, a policy maker from the Royal Intelligence Department adjusted his glasses and grabbed the microphone.
“I am the Policy Director of the Royal Intelligence Department.”
The Policy Director. The second-in-command of the intelligence agency overseeing administration, personnel, and inspections. He answered on behalf of the chief.
“Chief, what kind of agency is the Military Intelligence Agency? Military Intelligence. It’s an agency that collects information related to foreign troops. So, is it not more logical for the Royal Intelligence Department to handle matters involving spies?”
That was to say, you’re soldiers, so stick to dealing with foreign military matters.
This unsavory remark prompted the second-in-command of the Military Intelligence Agency, the Staff Officer, to express his discomfort.
“The case of the leaking of confidential information from the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute is currently under investigation by the military. It was the Military Intelligence Agency that detected it, that initiated the internal investigations, and it was our investigators who captured the spies. What authority does the Royal Intelligence Department have to demand the handing over of matters that belong to the Military Intelligence Agency?”
What he meant was to shut up and stop pestering us since we’ve already laid out our plans.
The microphone then passed back to the Royal Intelligence Department. A plump gentleman who introduced himself as the secretary waved a thick piece of paper with his huge hands.
“What about information regarding Giada Bianchi? Where did that come from? Isn’t that from our Royal Intelligence Department? This wasn’t a solo operation that the Military Intelligence Agency could claim success for.”
So, to summarize the situation:
The Military Intelligence Agency detected unauthorized communication from the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute, immediately recognized it was encrypted, and then requested cooperation from relevant agencies. The Royal Intelligence Department accepted the Military Intelligence Agency’s request for cooperation (sharing information about Giada Bianchi) and relayed that info. The Military Intelligence Agency then used that information to gather evidence and successfully capture Giada Bianchi (disguised as an unknown shaman).
Therefore, the Royal Intelligence Department’s claim was that “since we were partially involved in the operation to capture the spy, we shall take the subsequent operation (the pursuit of the background)”.
The response from the Military Intelligence Agency was straightforward.
“Stop joking. We cannot hand it over.”
Screw that.
—
The atmosphere in the meeting room soured in an instant.
It was a palpable tension, so hostile it could only be described as a battlefield. Anyone watching would be trembling.
“Joking? Does this look like a joke to you? Is intelligence operations a game to soldiers?”
“It’s laughable that you want to hijack a perfectly functioning operation. Why can’t you understand…”
“What’s happened to those so-called ‘functioning overseas operations’ now?”
“Hey.”
Someone picked a fight and clung on stubbornly.
“Regardless of whether the situation is appropriate or not, I cannot help but harbor suspicions about the capabilities of the Military Intelligence Agency. The number of failures in your operations towards the Empire and the Magic Tower over the past three years surpasses previous incidents…”
“Why is that our fault? It’s already been clarified through internal audits and debriefings that the officers aren’t to blame.”
“But the failures remain unchanged.”
“Just a minute. Let’s be clear here. Were our operations rumbled by foreign adversaries due to negligence on the part of our officers? A double agent infiltrated the Cabinet Security Office and leaked the information, fooling everyone else, didn’t it?”
“The aftermath of that caused a lot of injuries for the Royal Intelligence Department’s employees. Not to mention the loss of our intelligence network.”
“Excuse me, but the ones rotting in prison right now are our employees, and the ones dead face down in the ground are also our employees. The losses sustained by the Royal Intelligence Department can’t compare to those of the Military Intelligence Agency…”
Someone raised statistics and achievements as an argument.
“Is it even possible for the Royal Intelligence Department, which doesn’t even measure up to half the scale of the Military Intelligence Agency, to successfully take on the project?”
“Then how about we work together?”
“Trying to force together people who don’t see eye to eye will only bring headaches. And we’ve already finished preparations and begun creating favorable conditions, so you think inserting outsiders into this would be good? That’ll sink the ship before it even sets sail. Who takes responsibility then?”
Someone brought up accountability.
“If you’re talking about the available human resources, we have the upper hand. The Military Intelligence Agency is a colossal organization that combines both domestic and overseas parts, right? And you know better than anyone that having more bodies doesn’t necessarily translate to effectiveness, right?”
“There are doubts about the command capabilities of the Royal Intelligence Department. This is practically a quasi-military operation presuming on military-like conflict, right? And you expect to hand that over to those who haven’t even served in the military….”
“…What?”
“Did I say anything wrong?”
Someone belittled their counterpart based on the size and nature of their organization.
Reason and emotion, logic and absurdity intertwined to create discord. Fact bombs and personal attacks flew, while loud voices and pointed fingers crossed the table. The Policy Director and Staff Officer, who should have mediated this situation, merely glared at one another, and the heads of the Royal Intelligence Department and Military Intelligence Agency did not flinch.
Amidst all the operatives raising their voices as if ready to flip the table,
only two people remained calm in this chaos.
One was Colonel Clevenz, the Chief of Counterintelligence at the Military Intelligence Agency, who sighed and rubbed his neck, and the other was Leonie, my former superior from the Royal Intelligence Department, who was examining documents while propping his chin on his hand.
“….”
I quietly closed my eyes, lost in thought.
The Royal Intelligence Department trying to hijack a project from the Military Intelligence Agency.
The Military Intelligence Agency struggling to create results at all costs.
An unknown shaman infiltrating undetected through surveillance equipment.
The organization behind the infiltration of the spies.
The hidden information surrounding the spy incidents that I was unaware of.
The enmity between the Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency.
The real whereabouts of Giada Bianchi.
The independence of the Magic Tower.
The division of the Empire.
The two Saints.
The international community.
The intricately woven web of interests.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that all these events were gradually and subtly connecting. Something—something was brewing in my mind.
Suddenly, I recalled what Clevenz had said to me.
“Earn trust; there’s no one else, so you must do it.”
You must become indispensable.
Absolutely.
“….”
Thinking it over, I realized that what he said wasn’t just limited to the Military Intelligence Agency.
As I reflected on Clevenz’s words, our eyes met for a brief moment.
“….”
“….”
As a fleeting moment passed, he quietly turned his head forward, while I cast my gaze downwards, fixing my eyes on the floor.
No words were needed.
That was enough.
—
The meeting concluded without yielding any meaningful results. The agreement was that we needed time to cool our overheated heads and discuss more practical matters.
It was simply astonishing that a meeting lasting over two hours had devolved into a battle of nerves between the two organizations. It was a relief that nobody had grabbed each other by the collar.
After the meeting, the Chief of the Royal Intelligence Department called me in for tea time. The official reason was that the shock must have been great and I should take a moment to calm down, but in reality, he surely aimed to gauge my assessment.
By the way, Clevenz waited for me until I got out. He drove me away from the Royal Intelligence Department building. The atmosphere was rather grim, so we didn’t exchange many words until we reached the capital, but just before getting out of the car, I was able to hear him remind me not to forget what he had said.
Only around midnight could I finally clock out.
“…Colonel, no. Frederick?”
“Yes, nice to meet you, Camila.”
“Why are you here?”
Camila Lowell, or rather Camila, tilted her head as we met in the hotel hallway.
“I just got off work. I came to see your face before going home.”
“You just got off work? It’s the early morning, you know?”
“Overtime.”
I had neither the energy nor the will to explain.
I had gone through an overwhelming amount of situations in such a short span. Two months spent buried in paperwork seemed like a fairy tale now.
Anyway, I was in a state where it wouldn’t be strange if I just collapsed right then. I wanted to lie down in bed and sleep, but my previous accommodation was no longer available. The Inquisition found out about it.
I couldn’t exactly sleep in the dormitory or the quarters of the Military Intelligence Agency either. After all, it felt more like a workplace than home.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure. But is something wrong? You look really pale.”
“….”
I chose not to respond.
I had gone through too much in too short a time. A series of events even I couldn’t comprehend. The intricacies of power struggles between intelligence agencies, spy incidents, violations of the Magic Tower treaty, and the declaration of independence…
I wondered if she would even understand if I explained everything to her. And I fundamentally couldn’t speak of it. It was all classified information.
So, as I always did, I flashed an awkward smile and moved past. Thankfully, Camila didn’t press me for details and led me inside the guest room.
It was surprising that she was still awake at this hour, and when I asked if she wasn’t tired, she said she was wide awake because she was talking with Lucia.
Thus, I said hello to Lucia, who was with Camila, and entered the empty room to lie on the bed.
“….”
Current time: 01:07 AM.
As I stared at the green glowing clock, I couldn’t help but think desperately.
I don’t want to go to work.
—
Something feels off. A red light filters through my dark eyelids. Some vague humanoid shape swims through a crimson sea toward me.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, feeling a familiar yet utterly uncomfortable headache. The world around me seemed hazy.
“What the…”
As I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, the vague view gradually sharpened. The figure before me had black hair…
Wait a second.
Black hair?
“……!”
In an instant, my mind went blank. I snapped to attention and carefully observed the person in front of me. It was someone I recognized.
“V-Veronica?”
“Get a grip. Quickly…!”
“W-What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here….”
“We’re dead, we’re dead right now…!”
Veronica muttered in a panic, tugging me from the bed into the living room. A sense of urgency radiated from her movements, signaling that something was terribly wrong. For someone who remained calm even with the Imperial Guard HQ on her tail, this clearly meant things were spiraling out of control.
Upon arriving in the living room, I found Camila and Lucia gathered together.
They were glued to the news blaring from the TV.
-‘…The representative from the Magic Tower is currently giving a statement, yes, let’s bring up the visuals.’
The announcer I’d seen countless times at the cafeteria of the Intelligence Agency made a series of blunders as he gestured into the void. The screen changed. In a press room filled with sporadic shutter clicks, a man stepped up to the podium, gripping the microphone.
A caption rolled across the bottom reading “Spokesman of the Magic Tower Representative Office.”
-‘…The Chief Spokesman of the Magic Tower Representative Office announced in an emergency briefing that they will not permit the entry of the 59th Saint, Saint Lucia.’
“…….”
-‘The Chief Spokesman expressed strong regret regarding the recent string of inquiries from the Inquisition and indicated that the organization, which proposed the Nastasia Treaty decades ago, is currently failing to uphold the treaty…’
“…….”
-‘Just like a hundred years ago, we will not give up fighting against the unjust oppression of foreign powers…’
“…….”
-‘When asked about the reasons behind Saint Lucia’s entry denial and whether the Nastasia Treaty was being violated, the Chief Spokesman dodged the questions…’
“…….”
-‘Simultaneously, Colonel Frederick Nostrim, who was supposed to take on the role of the Defense Attaché at the Magic Tower, has had his agrément rejected. The Chief Spokesman clarified their stance that while they won’t prevent entry in a personal capacity, they are blocking the entry based on diplomatic credentials.’
“…Oh, for real.”
