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flames erupted in the hallway.

The activated rune stone emitted light, rolling and bumping against the wall, and the flame bird that sprang from the rune stone soared with a vigorous flap of its wings.

Of course, given that it was a hallway capped by the ceiling, it couldn’t fly up to the sky.

The flame bird darted around the hallway, tracing a fiery path. And as fire usually does, it spread in an instant.

The fire caught onto the interior décor like the carpet and wallpaper. The flames weren’t particularly large, but naturally, fire has a tendency to rise, and thus the first place the flame bird’s wings reached was the ceiling.

Finally, the overhead light fixture hanging from the ceiling exploded with a bang.

“Shit!”

An urgent curse echoed in the hallway. It was Kien. Just as I suspected, the thugs were from the Empire.

The thugs were yelling in panic, and I seized the opportunity to throw myself into the hallway.

I held a pistol in my right hand.

–! –!

No need for precision shooting. The sound of the suppressed gunfire rang out, and the thug standing to the right of the door fell to the ground, hit in the abdomen.

A jolt of pain shot through my left shoulder as it struck the floor. I tasted blood in my throat.

Grinding my teeth, I twisted my waist back and unleashed a hail of bullets with my pistol. The thug standing up collapsed with a hole in his chest, and the one leaning against the wall tipped over sideways.

Maybe I was lucky; it seemed he had been shot in the head.

“Guh…! Shit…!”

Just as I was about to rise up to check if he was truly dead.

A chilling premonition flashed through my mind. Sure enough, that bad feeling became reality. In the distance, the emergency stairs’ metal door was opening.

I thought of how the backup squad had arrived, but my body was already sprawled on the floor.

Naturally, it was hidden behind the thug’s body, which had a hole in its chest.

I used the fallen thug as a shield and support, taking aim at the backup squad bursting into the hallway. Gunfire rang out a few more times before it finally stopped.

Just as I was about to rise from the floor,

– Twitched!

The thug on the ground jerked.

–!

…

…

…

He’s not moving anymore.

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

It seemed a report had been made, as shortly after, an ambulance arrived with sirens blaring.

It appeared that a guest witnessed the fire and reported it. The police came briefly, followed by the paramedics and firefighters on a truck.

Thanks to the suppressor, or maybe because the commotion was on a floor with no guests, it seemed there had been no reports of the gunfire. The scant police presence was merely controlling the scene to allow the fire truck to enter.

I stood on the terrace, looking down at the road, and thought.

No way to clean up the scene now.

“…Are you okay?”

“Ah, yes. Yes.”

Fabio Verati nodded while adjusting his broken glasses. With his disheveled suit and soot-covered face, sitting on a one-seater chair, he looked rather pathetic.

“…Don’t stay here; you should go downstairs.”

“…Aren’t you coming down?”

“Go down first. Take this with you.”

I handed the pistol to Fabio Verati, the one the fallen thug had been holding.

Honestly, something like that wouldn’t be necessary anymore. With this mess, no operative would be sticking around. If I were them, I’d have already run away by now.

Carefully stepping over the fallen thug, Fabio Verati made his way down the emergency stairs. He left the bodies of the fallen thugs and embassy staff behind.

Naturally, they were already dead. There was no way the thugs would even think about recovering the bodies, and the same went for Fabio Verati.

I understand. I’ve been in situations like that too.

From the terrace overlooking the city center, I leaned against the railing and let out a deep sigh watching the crowd on the road.

“…Huff.”

With the police here, I had to clean up the aftermath.

I stepped back into the hallway to pick up the rune stone and entered the next room, which I had reserved under an alias, to recover all the recording tapes.

Then I stuffed all my equipment into my bag and stashed it in the piping compartment. I could either retrieve it myself later or send someone for it. Or I could go through the hotel staff connected by the Information Officer.

I had gathered about everything I needed.

I rubbed the rune stone that had regained its light to summon the flame bird again.

The flame bird soared with a mighty flap, tracing a fiery path once more.

“……”

I pocketed the rune stone and stepped back into the hallway.

Soon, everything would be engulfed in flames.

The room I had stayed in, the one reserved under an alias, the blood on the floor, the items I had touched, the towel slung over my shoulder, and even the listening devices I hadn’t managed to recover.

The police would find nothing.

*

Unfortunately, there was no one waiting for me.

No one to catch me, either.

Even though my black suit had a bit of blood on it, it wasn’t visible on the surface, and I had washed off the blood on my face and hands well enough that I was hardly noticeable.

The police and paramedics did try to stop me for witness statements regarding the cause of the fire and for potential first aid, but I presented my Diplomat identification and brushed them off. As for where Fabio Verati was, he was searching the hotel lobby.

I was making a phone call somewhere.

I turned my steps and vanished into the crowd.

I didn’t receive any first aid. If I poured a potion or got healed with a bullet lodged in me, the wound would close up completely. That would mean I would have to dig into my flesh again to get the bullet fragment out.

If this were Abas, I would have gone to the hospital or willingly received emergency treatment from the paramedics, but unfortunately, this was the Magic Tower.

Not only gunshot wounds, but if I treated cuts, stab wounds, or lacerations at a hospital, the police would get involved.

There might come a moment where I would have to show up at the police station and give a statement about the shootout, but I couldn’t let the Magic Tower Police discover that I was shot. If the police found out, someone else could also catch wind of it.

Like the Empire Information Agency, for example.

If I asked Lucia for help, security would be ‘almost’ guaranteed, but considering the Inquisition was hovering around her, that wasn’t a good option either. No matter how good our relationship was, and how well I got along with Military Intelligence, I needed to be cautious for a while.

In the end, I stopped by the pharmacy and bought a bunch of medical supplies like potions, antibiotics, painkillers, gauze, IV fluid, syringes, burn ointment, saline solution, medical tweezers, medical scissors, sutures, needles, and bandages, and trudged back to the hotel.

Of course, even then I entered the underground parking lot and took the emergency stairs to avoid running into someone. It wasn’t exactly pleasant climbing ten floors with a gunshot wound and a few burns.

Only after sneaking into the hotel room could I finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“…Ha.”

When I turned the bag upside down, the medical supplies spilled out onto the table. I sat on the single sofa and used my intact right hand and teeth to tear open all the packaging.

The first thing I did was disinfect. I poured saline solution into a plastic cup I had just bought and submerged the sutures, needle, tweezers, and scissors. Then I opened a pill bottle, bit into a painkiller, and with my head shoved into the sink, I swallowed it down my parched throat.

Even so, the pain wouldn’t subside, so I took a few more painkillers before I could begin first aid.

I washed the burnt skin with saline solution, slathered on the burn ointment, and then took out a potion to apply over it. I had to do it this way since it wasn’t one of those magical potions that healed wounds instantly upon drinking.

Such high-tier potions are banned from pharmacies, and they always go first to public institutions, government agencies, or emergency medical facilities. There simply aren’t many companies that can produce them. That’s why people around here go to churches instead of hospitals when they’re sick.

After roughly treating the burn, I was left with the gunshot wound. Minor wounds could be treated with ointment, and the rest could be solved by drinking the leftover potion. As the medicine began to take effect, I tried to take off my blood-soaked dress shirt.

But it wouldn’t come off easily. In the end, I had to use the saline-dripping medical scissors to cut the shirt off.

Now exposing the wound, I grabbed a few items and headed to the bathroom.

Next to the dry sink, I placed the plastic cup, gauze, antibiotics, and syringe, and looked at myself in the mirror as I started treating the gunshot wound.

Visually, there were no foreign objects, so I went straight for the bullet.

“……!”

Using the tweezers, I probed the wound and gripped the bullet tightly to pull it out.

Even after taking a few painkillers, a horrible pain surged through me. Since it had been a while since I last did this, I dropped the bullet a few times, inadvertently digging into my own flesh more than once.

How much time passed? When sweat and blood thoroughly soaked my dress shirt, I finally succeeded in extracting the bullet that had been lodged in my shoulder.

Clunk.

The bullet, smeared with blood and bits of flesh, rolled onto the sink.

I used saline solution to clean the wound thoroughly, grabbed a bunch of gauze to stuff into the wound and stop the bleeding, and administered an antibiotic injection to prevent infection.

Now, I just needed to cover the wound with gauze, lie down with IV fluid until the bleeding stopped, and then I could focus on stitching it up.

“…Ha.”

More than anything else, I had to get my body back in shape to handle all the things scheduled for tomorrow. Whether that was tracking down the bastards who shot me or finding Fabio Verati again.

After finishing first aid on the gunshot wound, I applied potion to the minor wounds, stitched up the major ones, and ate all the remaining potions to prevent any potential internal damage or worsening of my injuries. Of course, I swallowed a few painkillers along with them.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, communicating through a secure terminal instead of the broken communication device wrapped up my ordeal nicely.

Clevenz.

Military Intelligence Agency.

Defense Attaché Office.

Project 73.

Pippin and Jake.

After sending messages to everyone I could contact, I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I had done all I could.

Thinking that, my eyelids grew heavy.

“…….”

I guess it’s time to rest.

 

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