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국가경쟁력 확보다.

“Then, what is it that you want to say?”

“Let’s step outside the hotel. There might be someone listening.”

“Isn’t it usually safer inside than outside?”

“This is a Magic Tower.”

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

—

A park located near the hotel.

Priest Rebecca of the Inquisition led me there.

“This seems suitable.”

“It doesn’t feel like the right place for a secret conversation.”

“At least it should be safer than inside the hotel.”

We walked along the gravel path in the park as we talked.

“There’s surveillance. Plainclothes officers.”

“I know. It’s more accurate to say they’re protecting us than surveilling us.”

Despite being under the watch of plainclothes police, Priest Rebecca remained utterly composed. It was as if she perceived the officers seamlessly blending into the crowd as merely a part of the background.

Anyway.

As I strolled through the park with Priest Rebecca, I contemplated her character.

A priest with mint-colored bobbed hair exuding an aloof aura.

The secretary standing by Inquisition Director Petrus’s side.

An agent who shows up at odd times to drag me into Petrus’s presence.

A double agent ensnared by an undercover spy.

A taciturn shadow who hardly ever speaks.

A puppeteer-like figure, whose true intentions are impossible to guess.

That was more or less the image of Priest Rebecca from the Inquisition. It meant I couldn’t quite put my finger on her character.

Generally, such individuals belong to a category that is challenging to deal with. I didn’t particularly relish interacting with someone like Rebecca who belonged to such a category. Establishing a relationship with someone whose true motives were unknown was a highly dangerous act.

Had she not been closely associated with Petrus, I would have avoided meeting her to the best of my abilities.

Using the sound of crunching gravel beneath my shoes as background, I inquired about Petrus’s well-being.

“Is the Director doing well?”

“He’s still in good health. He’s considering retirement due to his age, but even if a successor is appointed, he won’t retire immediately.”

“I heard he plans to stay on as an elder.”

“Yes, you mentioned that before. He’ll likely provide advice in a sort of senior advisory role.”

“That’s a relief.”

Rebecca delivered the news about Petrus’s condition in a calm tone.

Just as a side note, ‘Director’ was used casually. If I said ‘Inquisition Director,’ anyone would immediately understand I was referring to the head of the Inquisition.

Though saying ‘Director’ was an odd choice considering Petrus’s age, it was also strange to use terms like ‘CEO’ or ‘Chairman,’ so I just expressed it in a way that would be understood. After all, in the intelligence industry, names hold no significance.

Anyway, it seems Petrus is doing well.

As we continued our conversation, we wandered around the park. In the early evening, the park was always bustling with people, and no one cast suspicious glances our way.

There were various people in the park. Lovers taking photos against the backdrop of colorful maple trees, photographers out for the scenery, couples on an outing with their children, a magician drawing attention with tricks performed through some sleight of hand, and a bard singing along with an automatically playing harp, among others.

A myriad of crowds. Among them were two spies concealing their identities and plainclothes information police following closely behind.

“I didn’t expect this neighborhood to be so affluent. Is it because it’s an upscale area?”

“Trinity has always been the center of the Magic Tower. It still is.”

Though it might not fully qualify as a capital, Trinity is undeniably the heart of the Magic Tower. To be honest, I wasn’t very interested in the Magic Tower, so I didn’t really know what this place was about. Rebecca, on the other hand, seemed to possess a fair amount of knowledge, but considering she belonged to the Inquisition, it wasn’t particularly surprising.

“So, who searched my room?”

“As I mentioned earlier, it wasn’t us.”

Priest Rebecca vehemently denied that it was the work of the Inquisition.

Since it was said in a setting without other Inquisition agents present, the claim that the Inquisition hadn’t searched my room was indeed true.

“Hmm…”

Then that means someone else searched my room….

Since no important equipment was stolen and no listening devices were planted, it seems I’ll have to take my time investigating this issue.

Changing the subject, I slowly surveyed the surrounding scenery.

“Well, I understand. But what is all that luggage? Surely you didn’t bring it all in for a big showdown.”

“I believe I have no reason to inform you, Colonel.”

Priest Rebecca kept tight-lipped about the purpose of the weapons and bulletproof vests.

It wasn’t that I was genuinely clueless about their use. Logically, if an intelligence agency smuggled ‘firearms’ into the territory of an ‘enemy state,’ what use would they have for it? Naturally, it would be for killing someone or something similar.

However, I absolutely needed to find out why.

“The protection of the Saint is under our office’s responsibility at the request of the Inquisition.”

“…….”

“At the very least, if anything were to happen, we’d need to have a line ready to be able to respond, wouldn’t we?”

Due to the request from the Inquisition and the Cult National Affairs Council, Lucia is under the protection of the Abas Information Agency.

But what if a follower brought along by Lucia (posing as the Inquisition) caused an incident that made headlines? Then it would reflect poorly on us. Whether we liked it or not, we were implicitly carrying the burden of ensuring the safety of the Cult members.

So what I really wanted to express was not “don’t mess things up,” but rather “if you’re going to put me in a tough spot, at least give me a heads-up so I can prepare.”

After a moment of contemplation, Priest Rebecca began to speak slowly.

“After all, we have to achieve some results, don’t we?”

—

Words spoken by humans hold power.

The goal of every intelligence agency is to safeguard national security and enhance the nation’s competitiveness.

Domestic and international information gathering, covert operations, counterintelligence investigations, security information collection, protection of advanced technology, support for businesses entering overseas, and safeguarding citizens abroad, among many others.

While the work varies by department, the ultimate goal is to preemptively detect external threats to protect the nation.

And each intelligence agency has its own slogan.

Words carry power. A politician’s promises encapsulate vision, and a CEO’s motto reflects management philosophy. Then, what is captured in the slogan of an intelligence agency?

Their aspirations.

The ideals that an intelligence agency aims to pursue moving forward, the consciousness of purpose embedded in the slogan to reach that destination.

That’s why during the era of the Central Intelligence Agency and the National Security Planning Department, the National Intelligence Service hung the slogan “We work in the shadows while aiming for the light” at the main entrance of their headquarters. While most intelligence agencies adopt overly complicated and cringeworthy slogans, that of the Central Intelligence Agency and the National Security Planning Department truly penetrates the core of the intelligence industry. Perhaps because of the experience working in the intelligence bureau before the Korean War, Kim Jong-pil managed to come up with one hell of a slogan. For better or worse.

Anyway.

The goal of the intelligence agency is to safeguard national security and enhance national competitiveness.

The country’s competitive strength was fully recognized, and the first task to implement this was ‘Information Collection.’

“When a firefighter faces a fire, they put it out. When the police encounter a crime, they go after the perpetrator. Soldiers defend the country in times of war. However, information agencies exist to prevent incidents. They’re not agencies that simply respond to accidents.”

“I completely agree.”

Receiving a punch may leave you with a chance to fight back, but in information warfare, a single hit often leads to a fatal state. Often, the one getting hit doesn’t even realize they’ve been struck, and no matter how successfully they respond, the information sector’s tendency is to incur even greater losses.

Priest Rebecca pointed out this very aspect.

“We have detected suspicious activity at the Magic Tower.”

“Suspicious activity? What’s the source?”

“All-source.”

I quickly mulled it over.

All-source, huh?

That means intelligence has been gathered from various fields like human intelligence, technical intelligence, and open-source intelligence, cross-verified to create this report. Generally, all-source has a very high hit rate, given its robust basis. The real question is whether they have the capacity to collect and analyze it…

“The first detection came from the Consulate General in Nastasiya City.”

If it’s an agency like the Inquisition, they undoubtedly have that capacity. In fact, they might have an excess.

Priest Rebecca approached the stand with a serene demeanor.

“One locum, please.”

“Yes! Would you like it packaged?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly halting her words, she began to place a food order.

“Would you like one for yourself?”

“No, that’s okay. I just brushed my teeth.”

“Then how about a cup of tea? I’ll order one milk tea, two spoons of honey, one spoon of sugar, and please add some marmalade.”

After just brushing, what’s with ordering a tea loaded with sugar? She didn’t even ask what I wanted and just ordered what she felt like.

It felt rather peculiar, but fortunately, the owner prepared the milk tea properly without goofing off in the clearly visible kitchen.

I accepted the milk tea with a blank expression. What mattered now wasn’t the tea.

“So, what were you looking for?”

“We’ve detected suspicious movements centered around immigrants.”

“Immigrants?”

“Yes. Businesspeople, students, scientists, office workers. Their statuses are diverse, and their nationalities vary, making it hard to find connections, but many seem to have ties to the Magic Tower.”

“…….”

This sounds eerily familiar.

I spoke up, holding onto a sense of unease in the back of my mind.

“Is it information collection?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“We wouldn’t have come here without evidence.”

“That’s true. Then what kind of information did you gather?”

“Various types. Science, magic, economy, society, politics, diplomacy, defense, security, and so on. It’s understood that most of the information pertains to economics and industry.”

Her tone was filled with absolute confidence.

“The higher-ups want to dig into this incident and build some results. That’s why we’re here.”

A sigh slipped out of me.

“Oh dear….”

It seems the magic folks have been playing globally. Not just one incident, but multiple. The Military Intelligence Agency, the Royal Intelligence Department, the National Security Agency, the Imperial Guard HQ, the Imperial Army intelligence unit, the Inquisition. So many different intelligence agencies are sniffing around the Magic Tower.

Honestly, they should just try to stay under the radar. What kind of operations did they carry out that now intelligence agencies are holding conventions here?

Rubbing the sore spot at the back of my neck, I shook my head.

“So, are you here for an investigation?”

“First, we’ll establish a network and hand it over to the neighboring country’s diplomatic mission. It’s not something that can be wrapped up in a short time.”

She was saying they’d recruit information agents from the Magic Tower and link them to the nearby embassies, setting up a spy network. The most difficult undertaking, indeed.

“Creating such a network must be a tough job. Isn’t the Magic Tower a no-man’s land for the Cult?”

“We’ll figure out a method as we go along. It’s just that we don’t know how yet. Even if we fail, we believe all of it is God’s arrangement.”

“Ah, sure….”

That was truly a religious person’s mindset. Even if the operation fails, it’s God’s will.

Like the saying that you can rent an Arab but can’t buy one, people who follow their beliefs belong to a tough crowd to recruit. But they managed to bring one on board. What on earth did Petrus use? Some kind of hypnosis app?

While my mind drifted with all these thoughts, I wondered if perhaps even this manifestation might be a guise for a greater purpose.

…A guise?

A hypothesis flickered through my mind.

“Was the supply attack incident today staged?”

“Well, I can’t answer that as we’re still investigating, so it’s a tough question.”

Priest Rebecca, with her usual expressionless face, neither confirmed nor denied. Given how many people were around, she was simply being cautious, but considering her status, she essentially acknowledged this was the work of the Inquisition.

“…Impressive. What are you planning to do about the aftermath?”

“It’s merely a precaution for unforeseen circumstances. It’s wise to have at least one insurance policy, isn’t it?”

Priest Rebecca rarely raised the corners of her mouth but managed to smile slightly.

“Just like now.”

“…….”

She wiped her smile off her face, picked up a locum, and popped it into her mouth. Then, she turned toward the stand and made the sign of the cross.

“It seems I’ve said all I can. It’s getting late, and there are many eyes around.”

“…Should I prepare a seat?”

“Just as the river flows toward the sea, if our fate doesn’t end here, there will surely be another chance. I’ll head back now.”

With some odd cult-like words, Priest Rebecca walked toward the hotel, saying something like, “Be sure to sort out the trash properly.”

I watched her figure receding into the crowded park and then shifted my gaze to the untouched milk tea.

After looking around the paper cup, I separated the cup holder from the disposable cup.

“…….”

Staring at the cup holder for a long moment, I finally turned my head to gaze at the stand where I ordered the milk tea. The owner, tidying up the store, met my eyes and quietly drew a small sign of the cross, tapping their chest.

Seeing that made me chuckle incredulously.

“…Fate, huh?”

Inside the paper cup holder, there was an address and a password for a storage facility written down.

 

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