A Dark Fantasy Spy

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‘…Director. What’s the reason you’re giving this to me?’

‘Is this your first time witnessing cooperation between companies? You know everything if you’ve been around long enough, so why bother questioning it?’

‘I’m not in a position to be called a veteran by someone experienced in overseas operations. The Royal Intelligence Department and the Military Intelligence Agency are always at each other’s throats over their achievements. You know this too, don’t you?’

‘…’

‘What exactly do you want from me?’

A moment of silence passed.

For the first time, she turned her head from the window and looked at me.

A seasoned operative spoke to a young operative.

‘There’s just one thing I want from you.’

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

Most people don’t know that intelligence agencies have secret facilities scattered across the globe.

Safe houses, disguise offices, communications interception sites, and so on. Although their names vary based on purpose and operating methods, it’s clear they all operate for similar reasons. Supply arises from demand, doesn’t it? It’s a simple truth.

Among the many disguise facilities, there are those operated for interrogation and questioning.

People referred to those places as black sites.

Clients who arrive there include self-proclaimed revolutionaries, foreigners with multiple passports, locals cooperating with these foreigners, and shady industrial spies.

The staff attending to them are employees of the company managing the facility. Occasionally, employees from foreign companies also visit.

Typically, facilities that operate regularly are covered by military base tarps, while irregular operations may occur on ships or in commercial buildings, with most facilities known to the public falling into the former category.

Today, the place I visited clearly belonged to the latter.

“Welcome.”

“Long time no see, Gordon. How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine. Please come in.”

I entered the disguise facility, guided by a counterintelligence department staff member.

The person who came to greet me was Captain Aaron Gordon, whom I had seen at the research institute before.

Dressed in just a shirt after removing his jacket, Captain Erin Gordon opened the thick iron door and spoke.

“As you mentioned, we are all set up for the interrogation.”

“Is that so?”

Following Captain Gordon, I descended the concrete stairs. We were heading underground.

The art center I used to frequent was a ground-level building, but this facility definitely seemed to be subterranean.

As we descended the stairs, we chatted about various things.

“Is Subject 51 okay? I hit him a bit hard to knock him out.”

“Honestly, I’m worried about that. I’ve prepared a potion…”

“But?”

“He might have sustained a head injury. It doesn’t seem too serious, but it’s also not something we can address right now. There’s no time.”

Fabio might have gotten hurt on the head.

If he got hit with a baseball bat and collapsed onto the pavement, it’s quite possible. Unless he’s a half-witted magician encased in magical energy, special training wouldn’t toughen up his brain.

Information agents are human too. They get hungry and eat, feel sleepy and sleep, and if things are frustrating, they curse. We all live like that.

“…Hmm.”

“Have there been any directives from above?”

“It hasn’t been long since we started, so they aren’t pressing yet, but the old-timers are quite anxious. There are issues with the empire… and with our allies…”

“This is quite burdensome. I just want to finish this quickly.”

I nodded at the captain while hearing out his grievances.

“Have you done any interrogations yet?”

“You’re the first for the manager.”

So they haven’t done any yet.

“Well then, let’s take our time. There’s no rush for anything. I just came to talk, so everyone can take a break before the interrogation starts.”

“Yes.”

The captain rushed ahead to the end of the corridor and pulled open the half-closed iron door.

“We’ve arrived.”

—

The mission of Task Force 73 was to trace the lead of the spy infiltrating the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

In the process, they kidnapped the youngest daughter of Fabio Verati, made contact with an investigator posing as a special correspondent, and clashed with the reconnaissance command of the empire’s military intelligence.

Blood was spilled.

Two foreign military bodyguards protecting Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter. Five operatives from the reconnaissance command stormed the hotel. A total of seven.

One could offer lengthy explanations regarding the severity of leaked confidential information and the need for recovery, the violation of the Nastassia treaty, the safe return of personnel, my safety, and the unavoidable sacrifices for completing the mission. But let me be honest.

I killed seven people.

There’s no room for argument, and I don’t want to make pitiful excuses. The only people that question the purpose or reason behind murder are those murderers or terrorists looking to lessen their sentences. If you’ve killed a person, you’ve killed them. There’s no noble purpose to it.

Anyway, I killed people.

What matters is not ‘why’ I killed them, but ‘where’ I killed them. And now, I am at the Magic Tower.

Why am I at the Magic Tower? To catch a spy. More precisely, a shaman spy who infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

If you ask who sent the spy, I honestly have nothing to say. I truly don’t know.

The spy that infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute impersonated Giada Bianchi’s identity information and used it to pose as Giada Bianchi and infiltrate the institute. To clarify, this occurred ‘before’ they even attended the research institute, not ‘after.’

Investigations revealed that the spy who impersonated Giada Bianchi was identified as a shaman, and they are currently being interrogated at the Military Intelligence Agency’s facility. The real Giada Bianchi is missing.

In other words,

The answer to all questions boils down to ‘where did Giada Bianchi disappear to.’

The Military Intelligence Agency found a hint in official materials related to national scholarship at the Magic Tower. Giada Bianchi, having graduated, left for national scholarship at the Magic Tower, where she went missing.

And,

According to the information provided by the Royal Intelligence Department during the investigation of unlicensed communications security incidents,

There was only one person who had the closest relationship with Giada Bianchi at the Magic Tower.

“Long time no see, Fabio Verati.”

“….”

Fabio Verati.

“Did you sleep well?”

“…Are you insane?”

He glared at me. His wrists were handcuffed, and those cuffs were chained to the center of the iron desk.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

“Well…?”

I approached the interrogation desk with a broad smile.

“What I did isn’t important. What matters is the future. What we’ll do moving forward is what counts.”

“….”

“Do you know who I am?”

There was no answer. I kept smiling and placed a disguise bag on the interrogation desk.

The bright lights illuminated the interrogation room, where only the turned-off recording magical tools and stands remained.

There were no investigators or interrogators in the room. Aside from the staff recording beyond the magic mirror, there was no one else observing the situation inside.

I glanced at my wristwatch to gauge the time and then looked at Fabio Verati.

“Do you know what this place is?”

“….”

“Exercising your right to remain silent will do you no good. This isn’t a criminal investigation agency, you know that?”

I ignored his piercing glare and opened the bag.

“Before we get to the main topic… let me ramble a bit. I like to talk. You might be bored, so just take a look at this.”

Thud.

A document dropped in front of Fabio Verati.

In it, he saw a younger version of himself from at least a decade ago.

“That’s an old performance evaluation record.”

“….”

“Overseas counterintelligence officer, information officer of the Magic Tower. This is a recent record, officially disguised… You originally worked in the Mauritania region, but noticing the lack of foreign ministry documentation, it seems you were unofficially disguised at that time.”

“….”

“But are you really not going to say anything? It’s kind of sad if I’m just talking to myself here.”

“….”

“Well, if you don’t want to play with me, you can just listen quietly.”

I laid out the national security personnel record for ease of reading.

Then, I took off my jacket and laid it over a chair, rolling up my shirt sleeves.

When I rolled my sleeves up, my gaze met Fabio Verati’s.

“I’m not going to torture you, so don’t look at me like that. It hurts my feelings.”

“….”

Fabio Verati didn’t respond. I held his gaze and stared into myself.

The lights were off, and without lights on our faces, we could meet each other’s eyes.

His pupils were still steady. They appeared intact.

So, he wasn’t feeling uneasy, it seemed.

In this bright interrogation room, the two of us, I started pacing in front of the desk, breaking the silence.

“Given it’s the National Security Agency, it’s a national intelligence organization of sorts. You must have received some training, right? Survival, psychological warfare, torture resistance, interrogation response principles, and so on.”

“….”

“Every intelligence agency has protocols. But anyway. I’m with the Military Intelligence Agency. The title of Defense Attaché might suggest I belong to a diplomatic corps, but in reality, I’m attached to an intelligence unit, as you might know given your background.”

“….”

“But.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked at Fabio Verati.

“As you know, when an intelligence agent gets captured, they almost always undergo some form of torture, don’t they? Why would that happen to someone trained like you?”

“….”

The answer is simple.

Because they can’t handle it.

“Resisting torture is far more difficult than it sounds. Both the one administering it and the one undergoing it are aware of this.”

“….”

“So typically, if you’re in a position to torture, there’s a strict target level in mind. You’ll say you want everything out, but in truth, you only want specific information. Who did you meet? What did you do that day? Who’s the target? Who’s the higher-up?”

“….”

“And as you fumble along, gradually the outlines begin to take shape, like espionage work. In a way, this is a form of guided interrogation….”

“….”

“Honestly, I find that method tiresome. It takes too long.”

I flashed a big smile.

In the absence of emotions, that was the aspect of myself I wanted to show Fabio Verati.

“I’ve heard some can make a person spill everything within ten minutes just by making them drink from a 500ml bottle, but I can’t do that anymore. I won’t. Why go through that hassle? It’s bad for mental health.”

“….”

“That was a long-winded tangent, anyway. What I want to say to our intelligence officer is that we should take this easy and smoothly. Smoothly.”

I sat down across from Fabio Verati. My mouth remained smiling while the corners of my eyes crinkled gently.

“If you cooperate sincerely, I’ll make sure you get treated and released without a hitch. I guarantee it.”

I pulled out a document from the wide-open bag and placed it in front of him kindly.

And I kept my folded hands resting on my knees.

“Now, shall we start with the research institute?”