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Rochelar Mining Company Kien Empire Branch Security Officer,

Market Evaluator of Esilu Motors Kien Empire,

Port Security Chief of Tuhermina Shipping Kien Empire Branch,

Resident Officer of the Kingdom of Abas Consulate General in Kien Empire,

Information Manager of the Defense Attaché Office in the Kingdom of Abas Embassy in Kien Empire,

or the 401st Brigade Commander of the Abas Ministry of Defense, Chief of Overseas Operations at the Military Intelligence Agency Kien Empire Branch.

Leoni has held countless titles, but there is only one that points to her now.

“It’s been a while, Director.”

“Hello? No need for pleasantries.”

Chief of the National Operations Division of the Royal Intelligence Department, Leoni.

I encountered my former superior, now a policy-maker at the national intelligence agency, in the Magic Tower.

She sat in the backseat of the van, looking extremely tired.

“You look radiant.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Take it as you will. By the way, what brings you to the Magic Tower? You aren’t returning to the field, are you?”

I wasn’t sure what the Royal Intelligence Chief was doing, but at that level, her duties were obvious.

Paperwork approvals, and policy decisions.

She might be considered an operative, but there’s no way she’d be rolling in the dirt out in the field.

Leoni stared at me, now looking ten years older.

“Do I look like someone who would be going back to fieldwork at my age?”

“You still seem sprightly.”

“At this age, they wouldn’t even suggest sending me to the field, let alone call me back.”

The seasoned operative gazed out the window. The heavily tinted glass acted like a magic mirror, cutting off the outside world from the van.

The glass that separated the world looked as if it were cast in shadow, and shadows seemed to loom over the reflection of the operative through that tinted window.

Whether she was intoxicated by the atmosphere or just lost in the passage of time,

Leoni stayed silent, deep in thought, before suddenly speaking up.

“You got shot, right?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Secrets don’t exist in this world, do they?”

Leoni deftly changed the subject, hiding her source. I didn’t pry any further either.

Because the truth is, there are the same number of secrets as public knowledge.

“Why are you here then? Surely you’re not here to offer me a job.”

“At my age, isn’t it odd to be job hunting?”

“That’s true.”

Leoni kept her eyes fixed outside as she continued.

“I’m just here for a brief field inspection. Promotions are just around the corner, so there’s a lot to do.”

A promotion from department head.

I nodded and congratulated her.

“Are you becoming a director? Congratulations, Director.”

“I doubt that’s great news for you.”

“…….”

I didn’t respond to her whimsical talk. There was no way Leoni called me just to chat about trivial things. If that were the case, I might feel slightly offended.

As I was mulling over this, Leoni, still quietly staring out the window, fixed her gaze and pulled something out from her pocket.

“What is that?”

“A gift.”

—

**Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy**

—

Dmitriya inquired about information.

Personal information, to be exact.

I flipped through a sheet of documents, reading them aloud. The information sent by Dmitriya had been processed and refined by analysts into an intel document.

“A graduate of the Kubinka Military School, Commander of the 547th Detachment of the Overseas Intelligence Division of the Reconnaissance Command….”

Dmitriya’s info was spot on. It appeared that the instincts of a social department journalist hadn’t dulled.

“Have you reviewed this?”

Pippin replied.

She was busy binding the intel document compiled with the analysts.

“I cross-referenced it with the intelligence agency’s database. It matches real units, and according to fixed reports, it seems they graduated from Kubinka too.”

“Really?”

The intelligence analysis team combined the information stored on the military intelligence agency’s server with the intel Dmitriya provided to create a concise intel document.

The testimonies of defecting spies, training camp photos taken by fixed agents, counterintelligence interrogation reports on long-term non-defectors, and a rough layout of the reconnaissance command compiled by information officers, along with detailed organizational charts extracted by operatives, and much more.

What Dmitriya brought was just a training photo and military college graduation records, but the analysts had produced a treasure trove of info.

“Looking at records from four years ago, there’s a record of them working as a travel agency employee in the Northern regions of the Lushan Federation. While the records are old, given that the intel was obtained directly by an information officer, the reliability is quite high.”

“How high, specifically?”

“At the lowest, around 40%, and at the highest, about 70%.”

Seventy percent.

Even considering the age of the records, that’s a solid reliability rating. Perhaps it’s because it came from an informant sourced by an actual officer, not a paid informant.

I quickly skimmed through the list of travel agency offices noted on the back of the intel document.

“Hand me a pen.”

“Here you go.”

Receiving a pen from Pippin, I crossed off the farthest offices one by one.

After drawing lines for a while, I finally returned the pen and the intel document to Pippin.

“Release the staff and start searching the closest place.”

It’s time to let the hounds loose.

—

I began tracing the higher-ups of the mysterious thugs based on the intel Dmitriya gathered. No doubt the once-prominent social department journalist was sending useful intel.

Of course, payment was expected.

The military intelligence agency contacted a senator affiliated with the intelligence committee to present a resolution regarding “Human Rights Conditions in Kien Empire” to the upper house sitting.

Considering diplomatic relations, it was a rather burdensome political move, but given that the senator belonged to the opposition party, was a hawkish figure with a military background reaching to general rank, and that it had been proposed to the upper house—which is relatively less important than the lower house—there wasn’t as significant a stir as one might expect.

For the record, the Prime Minister’s approval had already been received. Specifically, the Military Intelligence Agency Chief had suggested it to the Prime Minister for approval.

On the surface, this incident was cast as an initiative by the opposition rather than the ruling party, and while it had been proposed, it hadn’t passed the floor yet. Therefore, the Abas government could dismiss this as a ‘spontaneous act’ by the opposition senator.

And really, how long has the Empire been condemned for human rights violations? Though there was some initial outrage, the Empire’s diplomats regarded this incident as merely a “show to gain nominations.”

After all, it’s the intelligence agency that pulls the strings behind the scenes, not the foreign ministry.

Ultimately, the group that took this resolution seriously was solely the empire’s intelligence agencies, who promptly began collecting information.

– ‘What nonsense is this again?’

“Mind your language. How can someone like you, a saint, be spouting nonsense?”

Veronica called the hotel early in the morning.

It was past nine, so surely, whether civil servants or company employees, everyone ought to be at work. However, surprisingly, Veronica seemed to have tossed her work aside to reach out.

“Where in the world are you? Why do I hear music? You’re not calling in during a mass, are you?”

-‘I’m at my usual spot. Not at the cathedral.’

“Why are you there?”

-‘Is it wrong to come?’

I’m losing my mind.

-‘Tsk… Anyway, don’t dodge the question…! Explain what’s happening here.’

“What explanation is needed? Don’t politicians know the political landscape? Clearly, it just looks like they’re scrambling to be nominated for the next election.”

I relayed the Abas government’s stance verbatim.

Originally, diplomats are supposed to represent their government’s views, so it was unavoidable. Upon reflection, the defense attaché is also a diplomat overseeing military diplomacy, isn’t he?

To be precise, I’m a spy, not a diplomat, but still.

“They explained it that way upstairs. And right now, I’m at the Magic Tower, so how would I know the ins and outs of political matters? I’m not even a politician. I’m busy, so I’ll hang up and call you back later.”

At any rate, I wrapped up my discombobulated excuses using the rigid rules of the diplomatic and intelligence communities before passing them to Veronica.

It didn’t take.

-‘I found out about that person. Graduated from Kelsir Military Academy and a general…

“You’re a council member, been working at the Ministry of Defense, even dispatched to the Military Intelligence Agency, and now sitting in the information committee’s secretary position. I can’t believe you didn’t know that!”

“Uh…?”

I couldn’t understand why he knew so much about the political scene in another country.

Hearing him list off details so specific that even I hadn’t heard, I momentarily stumbled over my words.

“Is it that obvious that it’s falling apart? Just say it! The construction project’s a mess, the attaché is all up in arms, and chaos is erupting. I’ve got to get there before it blows up!”

Veronica snapped at me in a furious voice.

She’s totally lost it!

“Uh, uh, uh, it’s really loud near the hotel because of the protests! Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you loud and clear. What nonsense are you talking about? And didn’t you just say it was the representative office?”

“Uh, Veronica! I’m busy so I’m hanging up!”

“Wait, hello? I can hear you! Hey— you little—”

Click!

With a bang, the call disconnected.

Did I slam down the receiver too hard? Looking around, I found everyone in the office had turned to stare at me.

“…Sorry.”

I bowed my head to those around me, pretending nothing had happened, and picked up the receiver again.

How embarrassing.

*

The Empire Information Agency was on high alert due to the Senate’s sudden actions, yet the operation was decided to proceed without a hitch.

The first reason was simple: the entire activity of the 73rd Business Unit hadn’t triggered the Empire Information Agency’s detection system.

Secondly, the Magic Tower’s counterintelligence had shown no signs of activity either.

The Empire Information Agency’s movements fell within expected error margins. The Imperial Guard HQ wielded immense power based on their intelligence, and considering the recent significant setback to their overseas information network, it wasn’t particularly strange. However, the situation with the Magic Tower was suspicious.

Since the signing of the Nastasia Treaty, the Magic Tower had effectively become a playground for intelligence agencies from various countries, so this was undoubtedly odd.

An employee from their foreign ministry had been killed, and our Defense Attaché got caught up in a shootout. It was even orchestrated by the Intelligence Department. This was a clear violation of sovereignty by any nation’s standards.

If a civil war broke out and the government was teetering, that would be one thing. But to pull this stunt in the middle of someone else’s country was bound to draw diplomatic claims.

Yet the Magic Tower had yet to make a statement, even after all this time.

‘Something… something’s happening here…’

After ten years in the intelligence agencies, I sensed something strange about the Magic Tower, but the Military Intelligence Agency took it as a good sign.

“Just do what you were doing.”

“Is that really okay?”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

Colonel Clevenz spoke in his usual nonchalant tone.

“Technically speaking, doesn’t the Magic Tower bear more responsibility? The foreign department thinks it’s fine to push on like this. You do want to get revenge, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Revenge sounds nice.”

The mention of revenge sparked old memories, making my mouth feel slightly bitter.

“But, isn’t this technically a violation of sovereignty? If we get found out, our faces will be all over the papers, privileges or not.”

“Not getting caught is what operatives are for. Besides, if this keeps going, a confrontation is inevitable. We either strike first or solidify our position.”

“Yeah, got it.”

“And you’re off defense duty for a while. Don’t worry about it, just take it easy.”

That’s how the call with Clevenz ended. I barely registered his last words.

I gathered Pippin and Jake, and relayed the directives from the Military Intelligence Agency.

“…So, that’s the situation.”

Pippin and Jake looked at me with utterly baffled expressions, like they had just been dragged out of work.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No, we appreciate the heads-up, but did you really have to tell us this at ten o’clock at night?”

“If you don’t like it, you can be the operative.”

“No thanks, I appreciate it.”

I sat on the sofa and disinfected my stitched-up wound. Unlike the murky brown iodine solution, the clear disinfectant shimmered.

Using sterile tweezers, I picked up cotton and soaked it in the disinfectant, carefully cleaning the cut. It didn’t hurt as much as I expected, but felt odd, like patting someone else’s shoulder.

While I was disinfecting, Jake, who was wearing a mask and gloves, threw me a question.

“Who did the stitching? It’s surprisingly well done.”

“I did it.”

“Pardon?”

I pointed with my chin at the corner where my medical supplies were hidden.

“I bought and treated everything myself. Help? Who’s helping?”

“No way, you did your own stitches on a gunshot wound? Come on, don’t tease me.”

“Come here. I’ll stitch you up real pretty.”

As I twisted my body to prettily wrap Jake’s mouth, Pippin looked at us with an expression of disbelief and sighed heavily.

“Ugh…”

“Why are you like this?”

“You got shot, and you’re making jokes? Just finish the disinfecting.”

While Pippin kicked Jake away, I completed the disinfection and applied new gauze to the wound.

Taking the familiar painkillers and antibiotics, I was about to open a bottle of water when the fact that I had drank with Dmitri came rushing back to me.

…Eh, it should be fine.

“So, what’s the plan now?”

“What plan?”

“I mean for the operation. The higher-ups are granting a lot of requests, but the manager hasn’t said anything.”

As I listened to Pippin, I opened the fridge.

As I swung the door wide open, a small, cute creature that looked like a dragon greeted me with a burst of cold air. I tossed a bottle of water, and the creature rolled around the fridge with the bottle tucked close like a plush toy.

Having treated the water bottle as a toy, I pulled out a potion from the bottom shelf instead.

“Have you searched all the travel agency offices?”

Jake, who was incinerating the cotton and gauze with a rune stone, replied.

“No, there are still a few left.”

“Really? No updates?”

“No.”

I reached out, and Pippin promptly slapped a chart into my hands.

In a neat format like Excel, the table indicated that the offices already searched were all crossed out with red lines.

“We’ve searched 11 out of a total of 17 places. Nothing turned up.”

“Why not get to the other six?”

“We went to them, but there were staff on duty, so we couldn’t search.”

“Is that so….”

Pop!

The potion cap popped open with a cheerful sound. It looked just like a health potion from a game, but judging by my past experiences, it probably wouldn’t taste that great.

Must be made from monster blood or something. Kind of gives me the creeps.

Bottoms up—I downed the entire potion. It was slightly expensive because it was flavored, after all.

“…Mmm.”

Tastes like grape.

I tossed the empty bottle into the trash and issued orders.

“Get prepared to search the remaining six.”

“Yes, we’ll start searching by tomorrow.”

“No, we’re searching now.”

“…Huh?”

Pippin and Jake, looking utterly dumbfounded, glanced at the clock simultaneously.

Current time: 23:56.

“Gather all the nearby staff and get ready to move.”

This was the perfect time for spies to be active.

 

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