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the Representative Office of the Magic Tower Abbas building.

On the 5th floor of that place lies the Defense Attaché Office.

At a glance, it looked no different from the offices on other floors, but security was undeniably tight. Not just any employees or even the representatives from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs with their proud shoulders could enter this place recklessly due to the strict security measures.

Only a handful of people with access permissions, including the Military Intelligence Agency staff, could enter.

And here were those who had received that permission.

“Pippin, I’ve finished the report.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Pippin, the Information Management Assistant at the Defense Attaché Office and the lead analyst from Military Intelligence Agency’s Project 73, took the document handed over by the civilian worker.

As soon as she set the document down, she automatically picked up a pen and signed her name on the cover page.

Then, all of a sudden, she thought it was quite strange what she was doing.

“…….”

She was sure she was an analyst, yet somehow she had become something resembling an information officer before she realized it.

Still, she had been promoted, so it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, but the feeling of wearing clothes that didn’t quite fit kept nagging at her.

“Well, I’ve managed to look into it. But I can’t find any official documents from the Human Resource Development Center. I think this will need to be transferred to another department…. Pippin?”

“…….”

“…Pippin?”

“…Uh, y-yes. What is it?”

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Snapping back to reality at the sound of her friend calling her name, she realized she had been spacing out. The pen she clutched remained still in her hand.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought for a moment. What were we talking about?”

“You seem unwell. How about calling it a day?”

“No, I’m fine.”

It seemed that both she and Jake needed time to get used to the unexpected workload they had suddenly taken on.

And Pippin reflected that among the people she knew, there was only one person who could handle this kind of workload and still be sane.

*Knock. Knock.*

“Come in.”

“Um, everyone’s doing a great job.”

“Manager?”

That would be the person who just walked through the door.

“By the way, where’s Pippin?”

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

“Here I am.”

“Oh, thank you.”

I visited the Defense Attaché Office located on the 5th floor of the Representative Office building.

In truth, I should’ve called it a visit since I was a Defense Attaché, but since I wasn’t actually in charge of Defense Attaché duties, this phrasing seemed the most appropriate.

“I’m still drinking the instant coffee I always have at the Magic Tower. It’s something else.”

“Well, it was made at the Magic Tower.”

“Oh, right.”

Pippin handed me a paper cup and took a seat.

Her desk was piled high with papers, and I sipped my coffee while scanning through the documents.

“Is all this material from the Magic Tower’s representative office?”

“Yeah. I’m currently searching for materials from the Human Resource Development Center. There’s just not much publicly available information.”

She mentioned being unable to find anything from OSINT.

If that’s the case, then either the Human Resource Development Center is small, and there’s little known information, or the Magic Tower is controlling the information about it. Most likely, it could be both.

“Take your time to find it. By the way, why is this coffee so sweet?”

“Our team likes sugar….”

“Don’t overdo it on the sugar. It’ll rot your teeth.”

“If I keep it under my bed, maybe the fairies will take it.”

It sounded like a tale suited for tooth fairy lore, but considering this was a world where fairies existed, it was a somewhat reasonable comment. Of course, they weren’t kind fairies that replace lost teeth with new ones, but rather mischievous little things that would sneak in at night to steal away new teeth.

Anyway.

“Pippin, could I ask you for a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“I need you to find some information. Publicly.”

Pippin’s information analysis team conducted information analysis and collected data from open sources, meaning they performed OSINT missions.

Press releases.

Academic journals.

Papers.

Daily newspapers.

Promotional materials.

National Assembly oversight materials.

Official educational materials, and so on.

The information I needed was somewhere within those. Hence, Pippin was the perfect person to search for it.

“Go ahead.”

“Please gather information on robbery, robbery homicide, or similar crimes focusing on local police and the Ministry of Justice. Types, methods, techniques, victims, perpetrators, occurrence areas….”

I mumbled while reading the information regarding Fabio Verati that covered one side of the wall filled with pinboards.

One hand scrolled through the information notes while the other sipped coffee, and Pippin, who had been quietly watching me from behind, asked me a question.

“Why are you looking for that information? Are you getting mixed up in something dangerous?”

“Not really.”

I turned to look at Pippin.

“I’m planning to do that.”

The moment I confessed I was going to kidnap Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter, an explosive reaction followed.

-‘Are you out of your mind?’

“Why do you say that?”

-‘You’re planning to kidnap a child? Right in the heart of the Magic Tower?’

Honestly, suggesting abducting a 17-year-old minor was a shocking statement even for me. Yet at this point, I couldn’t see any other way.

I managed to persuade Clevenz with plausible reasoning.

“If other intelligence agencies step in, and if they move first, our operation could collapse, right? The National Security Agency, the Imperial Army’s intelligence unit, or the Royal Intelligence Department might snatch everything away before we even get a spoon at the table.”

-‘Still, we can’t go for kidnapping. This is beyond politics or diplomacy.’

It was an uncharacteristic statement for Clevenz, who routinely captured spies by the hundreds, but I understood since that was his nature. If my superior were Leoni, she might’ve actually supported the idea.

Anyway.

Clevenz opposed my proposal from a moral and ethical standpoint.

However, it was a clear fact that we were lagging behind compared to other intelligence agencies and that time was running out. Consequently, the decision was pushed up from Clevenz to someone higher up the chain.

To the Military Intelligence Agency Chief.

-‘I’ve received your report. However, there are problems with the interim report, and it’s not a matter to be hastily concluded. Please come up with a detailed plan first.’

“Understood.”

He clearly appeared somewhat sullen, but he did not dare to voice any objections to the Director’s command. Once Colonel Clevenz ascends to the Director position, such brazen and reckless handling would likely become impossible.

But for now, I had received the permission.

Therefore, my task was now crystal clear.

“…So, I need to start gathering information from now on.”

-‘So, you want Pippin to find out whether it’s a robbery or a robbery-murder, correct?’

“Yeah.”

Pippin and Jake showed reactions similar to Clevenz’s. They weren’t too keen on my idea.

It wasn’t exactly an appropriate response for subordinates to show to their superior, but I understood. I used to feel the same way back in the day. Admittedly, I’m a bit uneasy about this now, but having to make a living from such antics has made me somewhat accustomed to it.

“Jake. Go with the staff to rummage through the trash near the academy.”

-‘You mean trash?’

“Yeah. Just don’t bring back anything weird. Focus on papers, especially documents.”

Every organization uses paperwork—private companies, public institutions, banks, educational institutions, military, prosecution, police, and embassies, among others.

Countless sheets of paper are consumed each day. The next day, and the day after that, the same volume of documents is generated.

Naturally, no place has enough space to store all of it. Even if there were space, they’d have to shred or dispose of it regularly to make room.

And that paper contains a variety of information. The information I’m after is included there as well.

-‘Why do you need that?’

“Communications, meeting materials, inter-departmental documents. We need to check if there’s any schedule for students going out.”

This technique is a classic used by the KGB, the embodiment of the Red Menace, when they’d sneakily gather intel from Western diplomatic missions. They’d charm janitors and low-level staff into doing their work, but given the time constraints, I had to dive in myself this time.

“I’ll identify the schedules for students going out and plot the routes. I can’t make a plan based solely on the movements of the person connected to Room 51, can I?”

-‘So you mean you’ll create a Plan B. Understood.’

For the time being, Jake and the human intel team dispatched to sift through the paper documents (or rather, rummage through some trash).

I turned off my communication device and stepped into the office.

What I needed was not just that information.

“Excuse me.”

“Who are you— Oh, it’s Colonel!”

A police officer seated at the desk got up and greeted me warmly.

“You’re the police dispatched to the embassy, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m from the Foreign Affairs Bureau.”

Foreign affairs police.

They investigate crimes involving foreigners, expatriates, or anything associated with foreign countries. Referred to as police attaches, unlike the agents who engage in espionage under the guise of intelligence agencies, they genuinely handle investigative work.

“By the way, what can I do for you…?”

“Do you have any data related to crime hotspots around the Magic Tower? I’ve heard you’re in close contact with the local police.”

“Of course, we do. But why do you need it?”

“Well, you know, there are those who are extremely devout.”

“Oh, you mean the ones who do medical volunteer work?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, of course, we should provide it! I heard from the news that it’s a pretty dangerous area.”

As it turned out, the police attaché was a believer. I didn’t know if they were a genuine believer or a fake one, but since we were discussing the saint’s security, they eagerly pulled out a document from the vault for me.

“As you were trained before your deployment, you’re aware that this is not to be loaned out or taken out, and no photographs are allowed. Copies can’t be made either.”

“…Is it classified?”

“No, not exactly, but this isn’t entirely our material… however, as long as it doesn’t get lost, I think we can figure something out.”

“Thank you.”

The police attaché accepted the backhanded money I slipped and gave me the go-ahead for the transfer. It was illegal, but then again, we’re both civil servants, right?

“Oh, by the way.”

“Yes?”

“Could you find out about these individuals? It’s a similar issue, but I’d like to make this a bit delicate. Given the circumstances.”

“Of course. I can do that.”

I handed the photographs of Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter’s bodyguards to the police. Deceiving someone with strong beliefs was as easy as pie.

While the police made calls, I copied all the materials and tucked them under my arm as I browsed through the office.

“I got the materials.”

“…Where did you get all this?”

“It’s from the foreign affairs police. I noticed some documents related to robbery in here as well.”

“I’ll take a look. Thank you.”

The intel analysis team began analyzing the documents I received from the police.

Given that these were diplomatic documents exchanged between governments, the quality and quantity of the information were both high. Naturally, it would reduce the time needed for intelligence gathering, and we’d also be able to cross-verify it.

After that, I spent some time running around gathering intel from here and there.

Special Activities Department, Technical Information Division, Counterintelligence Department, Defense Attaché Office, Magic Tower Embassy, Magic Tower Police, Inquisition, and so on.

With the identity of a diplomat and as a hero’s colleague, no one stopped me. After all, the Inquisition would not turn me away since the Senior Priest Rebecca had had multiple interactions with me before.

I consolidated all the gathered information, compiled it into a report, and sent it off to the Military Intelligence Agency.

Then that evening.

-‘The approval came through.’

The Military Intelligence Agency Chief granted his permission.

“Thank you, Colonel.”

-‘Right. It’s spilled milk now, so do your best to wrap things up. Stay safe.’

The state had allowed a crime.

It was now okay to kidnap someone.

 

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