Chapter 109
The Nostrim family is a humble noble clan on the outskirts of Abas.
Due to a bizarre political system that uniquely blends constitutional monarchy and absolute monarchy, they enjoy certain benefits as nobles, but they aren’t notable enough to leave a mark in history.
Why? Because the Nostrim family is a clan of civil servants.
They served the royal family as civil servants for generations and received titles as a form of recognition for their hard work. They weren’t the type to produce politicians or amass power through remarkable business acumen.
Anyhow.
The Nostrim family received titles for their longstanding contributions as civil servants, and that trend has continued even to today, where the royal family is checked by the parliament. This means that, except for one member, everyone in the Nostrim family is a civil servant.
Father, Mother, Older Brother, Older Sister, and me.
Aside from my younger sister, who graduated from a prestigious university and is currently idle, everyone is living within public office.
Father and Brother work in the Ministry of Finance, Mother is a maid serving female royalty, and Sister is in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I’m just a career soldier.
Of course, while I’m called a career soldier, strictly speaking, I’m an Information Agent belonging to the Ministry of Defense, and my parents don’t know that I’m a spy. Only my Brother and Sister know. There’s no regulation or internal rule preventing me from hiding my identity from my immediate family, but I just didn’t say it because it was a bit awkward.
The very nature of Information Agencies is seen as shady, and in this town, the profession of spy is looked down upon a bit.
Honestly, in the 21st-century modern society, there aren’t parents who would applaud or be happy if their child says they’re a spy. I understand that feeling too. So, I didn’t say anything.
In any case, the only ones who knew I was a Military Intelligence Agency agent were my Brother and Sister.
The problem is,
“Hey, you bastard! What’s with calling me after three years and asking for classified information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs!?”
“Oh, when did I say that?”
My Brother and Sister also disliked my job.
Episode 6 – The Betrayer of the Revolution
I don’t have a good relationship with my family.
It’s indeed a sad and cruel thing, but there were quite justified reasons for it.
First off, being an Information Agent requires strict confidentiality, which is the first reason.
Due to the nature of the job, there are many enemies, and if my identity is revealed, there could be retaliation in any form, making it difficult to perform normal duties. As a result, many information agents hide their occupation, and there are instances where ‘security’ causes their relationships to sour.
The second reason is social perception.
I always consider myself a patriot, but information agencies have a rather uneasy reputation in the eyes of others. Even in today’s 21st-century society, the perception of information agencies isn’t very positive; imagine how it would be in this area during the Cold War.
Just look at Jake. After finishing his training as a new agent, when he told his parents, “I actually work for the Military Intelligence Agency,” the first thing they said was, “Are you beating people up?”
According to internal rules, one can disclose their agency, but they cannot share details about their duties or position. So Jake couldn’t disclose that he worked in the overseas division, and his parents still believe he’s a Counterintelligence Investigator. Even if he had mentioned working in the overseas division, things wouldn’t have changed much. It would have been the same as saying their child is a ‘spy.’
Information Agents, Operatives, Informants, you name it.
People don’t know or care about such distinctions.
With such social perceptions, it’s awkward to disclose one’s occupation anywhere.
Therefore, only my Sister, working at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and my Brother, working in the Ministry of Finance, know I’m a Military Intelligence Agency agent.
Every time they ask me what I’ve been up to lately, I squirm, and since my job keeps me busy and away from home, my family and I have grown distant. I guess it’s accurate to say I’ve slightly drifted away from my family since entering the Military Intelligence Agency.
I don’t even have contact at home. In the past, I almost got caught eavesdropping by some Chinese guys. My job as an advisor was just too busy.
That was the root of the problem.
“Where the hell have you been calling from?! Is it really that hard to make one phone call home after not contacting us for three years?!”
“Why are you cursing at me!”
“You little brat!”
I heard brutal curses over the receiver.
“I didn’t say anything, but how dare you show your face, not making a single call home? Huh?! Three years! Did you go to prison!?”
“No! I’ve just been busy and couldn’t contact you! Why are you getting worked up?! I got called abroad right after receiving the news, how was I supposed to contact home?!”
“Damn right! Do Mom and Dad have to read about your news in the papers!? Huh? I saw it through official documents!”
“Why was the official document sent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?”
“They sent an official document to the office, you bastard!”
After three years of not being in touch, my Sister unleashed a torrent of curses at me over the phone.
The scolding of a 32-year-old civil servant in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was hard to endure.
“They sent suits to the office in groups, demanding we fill out a security oath without even knowing why, and when I signed without knowing, they said it was your problem!”
I held the receiver and pondered.
I recalled when they asked me who knew about my identity as my party member while preparing for overseas deployment. I heard they would hand it over to the Cabinet Security Office or the Royal Intelligence Department…
“Uh, did they not give any explanation?”
“Didn’t hear a thing, you jerk! I saw it on the news with Jerry!”
Jerry, Jerry Nostrim.
That’s my Brother’s name. So, my Brother who works in the Ministry of Finance.
“Safe house? Why did you and Sister go there?”
“I was confined to the office without being able to leave! For a week! Got it?!”
So they must have spent a week in the safe house.
It seems the government was protecting my Brother and Sister. Or maybe confining them. Either way, it’s a good thing. At the very least, it meant the government was looking out for my family’s safety.
I don’t know if it was simply because I was Camila’s companion or because I was an Operative. Probably the former. Other people don’t receive such treatment.
“Anyhow!”
I cut through my Sister’s shouts and continued the call.
“I’m at the Magic Tower right now, you know I’m aware you’re in charge of the Magic Tower. Please help me out just this once.”
The reason I was begging my Sister, whom I hadn’t spoken to in three years, was simple.
Adela Nostrim.
My sister is a civil servant in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Adela is working at the diplomatic office of Abas.
To be precise, Adela isn’t the kind of diplomat people often think of who works on the ground; she works from the headquarters, known as the desk.
Her job is information collection. She doesn’t sneak around gathering top-secret information like a spy; she simply collects diplomatic information necessary regarding the political, economic, cultural, and industrial conditions of the countries she’s in charge of. When issues arise, she also provides the gathered information to other departments or agencies.
That’s why the National Intelligence Service and the Intelligence Agency sometimes receive basic information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs when they send their own staff members, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs also receives shared information from the National Intelligence Service, which is ‘good to know.’
There’s a reason the saying goes that spies and diplomats are just a hair’s breadth apart.
Anyhow, Adela is a level 5 civil servant at the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs. By the time I was commissioned, she was already working there, and when I entered the Military Intelligence Agency, she was preparing for an overseas assignment and undergoing training. Her work location was, ironically enough, in the Kien Empire.
Thanks to having a diplomat sister, I received help a few times. Of course, I got her approval.
But since I’m an Information Agent, I couldn’t disclose my identity overseas. So, I deceived my sister all the way through while she was working in the foreign office, and when I returned after finishing a mission, I finally told her that I worked for the Military Intelligence Agency. While giving her a token gift (a white envelope) funded by the Military Intelligence Agency’s activities.
That way, she became my informant.
“Is that something you can say to family?”
“It sounds a bit awkward, but it’s the truth. Plus, I send you a bonus worth my quarter salary, don’t I? You need to work for what you receive, don’t you, Adela?”
Of course, I’m still sending money regularly. The ‘labor costs’ I send to my sister sometimes come from my salary, and sometimes from the funding we received.
For reference, while I was working as an advisor under Clevenz, most of it came from my salary. Even though I stepped away from the overseas division, managing informants remained standard practice. I might have been able to save enough for a small house in the countryside if I had collected that money.
Thanks to that, my sister fulfills a good number of requests.
And that’s exactly why I can brazenly go for a work-related chat after three years of silence.
“I need some information. Specifically, anything related to the Magic Tower that’s being stored at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”
My sister, as if she hadn’t shouted before, replied in a voice that had clearly calmed down. Indeed, money is the best.
“Isn’t that easy? If you’re at the Magic Tower’s representative office, you can just access those materials.”
“Not the information collected by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”
“Then?”
I adjusted my grip on the receiver and calmly replied.
“The documents sent from relevant agencies to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The Ministry of Finance, the Exchange Association, some foundations, companies, there’s a ton, right?”
“…….”
On the other end of the line, my sister fell silent.
This call was on a regular phone line, not a secure line. In other words, it meant there was a risk of eavesdropping.
And most international calls are intercepted by counterintelligence agencies. Even if it’s not real-time interception, the telecommunications company records the conversation and sends the recordings to the counterintelligence agency.
Countless intelligence agencies, including the National Security Agency, have abused this method, and they still use it.
So, my sister and I always had the habit of speaking ambiguously. Due to our job nature, one or the other of us was always abroad.
“…Do you want the ‘overseas business’ data from private companies?”
She was asking if I needed information shared with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by the intelligence agencies.
“Yes. There’s a new person I met named Francesca Ranieri, who works at the Magic Tower Secretariat, and it seems there are some political issues around here. It looks like I’ll have to stay here for a while.”
“…I saw it on the news. She’s an alchemist from the Elemental School, right? It’s probably due to the Oracle election issue. That data you’re talking about?”
“Yeah. I think I need to study up on the Oracle election too. Political, economic, social, diplomatic, you know, stuff like that.”
“…Are you really planning to get involved?”
That was her question regarding whether I was going to get involved in the political scene within the Magic Tower. In other words, it meant she was asking if the Military Intelligence Agency was going to engage in political maneuvers at the Magic Tower.
I couldn’t just say it’s because I think a coup might break out, so I navigated around it.
“A foreign public servant is here to help? I’m just trying to grasp the situation of what’s happening. If there’s any change in the Oracle, I need to be prepared. The government and I both need to.”
“…How long will you stay?”
“Not long, as it’s a short-term assignment. Anyway, I want to help over there, but I have no idea what might happen at the Magic Tower. I need more information.”
“…It’s going to involve complicated political content that you won’t understand. There’s probably a lot of data.”
That was slightly ambiguous.
I wouldn’t know what the content was unless I received the data, to begin with.
“Just send everything you have. I’ll give them a heads up over there; please send it by pouch.”
“…Alright. I’ll send it as soon as possible. It should arrive within two days.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Take care of yourself.”
The request for sending it by pouch was a euphemism for asking to send it via diplomatic bag.
Diplomatic bags are untouchable unless the Ministry of Foreign Affairs gives consent, and they’re an unmonitored transport method free from all inspections.
That’s how agents transported bombs in their diplomatic bags when the reconnaissance department executed assassinations in Burma, and how VX was used to send Kim Jong-un’s half-brother, Kim Jong-nam, to join his father. There were even been allegations that a person was shot dead in the UK and the firearm was smuggled out in a diplomatic bag.
Moreover, there’s no real restriction on size or quantity for diplomatic bags.
North Korean diplomats used this to smuggle ivory, gold bars, and dollars into North Korea. Israel and Nigeria have even put people inside their diplomatic bags. Ultimately, they were caught by customs, though.
Anyhow.
The item I requested from my sister has arrived.
Countless documents packed in a diplomatic bag reached the Abas representative office at the Magic Tower. Now, all that was left was to analyze it.
“…What’s all this?”
“What do you think it is? Work.”
“……”
I handed all the materials to the information analysis team.
“Cross-reference everything here with the information from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Military Intelligence Agency, Royal Intelligence Department, and police to filter out only the critical bits. Remove anything that overlaps.”
“…We already filled out the overtime pay for this month. If we pass that, will we still get paid?”
“That’ll have to be checked with the general affairs department.”
“……”
Pippin, who came into the representative office with the analysts, began stuffing a massive bottle full of coffee upon seeing the piles of documents that filled the office.
Even I thought this was a pretty cruel thing, but this is the military. And in the military, rank is everything.
“Anyway, hurry up and extract the information. I’ll make the report, so just ensure there’s a record.”
“…What kind of information do you need? There hasn’t been any instructions from above, so I thought.”
“It’s nothing major. Just something simple. I need to know how the situation at the Magic Tower relates to the Oracle election and the Magic Tower’s government and what problems might arise from that. That’s what I need.”
It was a clumsy way of putting it, but they understood it perfectly.
After hearing my vague instructions, Pippin started to generate information using all sorts of materials with the analysts.
I moved to the window and began to watch the slowly moving scene of the Magic Tower’s cityscape.
“……”
Now, with patience, I just needed to wait for the answer to come up soon.