A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

“Raniere works in the Economic Management Department of the Secretariat. The Ministry of Justice is nominally responsible for the international trade, import, and export of the Magic Tower, but in reality, it’s a department that earns foreign currency through trafficking in Taklons, Shillings, and Ducats to create and manage slush funds.”

“Slush funds? Are you talking about funds for governance?”

“Yep.”

—

Episode 6 – All-Seeing Spy’s Perspective

—

“We’re currently considering that as the Oracle’s governance fund. The Magic Tower circulates that money internally and externally to exert influence over political parties, civic organizations, associations, public enterprises, private enterprises, public institutions, and the military. Furthermore, we suspect that part of that money is secretly flowing into the activities of the Talent Development Institute.”

Sofia, an investigator from the National Security Agency, continued speaking with a calm expression. To an untrained eye, it looked like she was explaining something trivial.

But reality was different.

“So far, it appears they have gathered funds legally. It’s possible that they might have accumulated some illegally. However, that money is undoubtedly being used as the Oracle’s governance fund.”

“…….”

The National Security Agency investigator stated that the Magic Tower had crossed the line.

“From the Magic Tower’s perspective, that may seem like legitimate lobbying, but from a third country’s point of view, that’s political manipulation.”

What the Magic Tower was doing could be kindly termed as lobbying, or negatively, political maneuvering.

Buying off political parties and civic organizations, coaxing politicians and bureaucrats. The relationships built like that could be utilized everywhere. The ways to leverage it were limitless.

For instance, they could steer foreign governments toward favorable policies for the Magic Tower or loosen import/export regulations to monopolize the market, or maybe even siphon off classified information only handled within foreign governments.

The problem was,

“I haven’t heard any such news.”

“What news?”

“That Raniere works in such a place?”

It was precisely the type of thing that intelligence agencies loathed the most.

Didn’t the Republic of Korea also exploit Korean-Americans for lobbying in the U.S. Congress during the Fourth Republic, leading to diplomatic issues? Because of that incident, there were even hearings in the U.S., pressures for troop withdrawals from Korea, budget cuts for the deputy minister, the CIA wiretapping the Blue House’s office, and the Korean Central Intelligence Agency assassinating former heads of the intelligence agency, leading to a complete breakdown in Korea-U.S. relations.

And now, the Magic Tower was doing just that.

After a moment of thought, I asked the question.

What should we do about it?

“It’s already far beyond a level that can be resolved internally.”

It was something an intelligence agency couldn’t handle.

Narrowly, it meant the involvement of the executive branch. In other words, it required discussions with other government departments, while broadly, it had to be directed by the legislature, judiciary, or the president.

Sofia gave a small, apologetic smile. At least that’s how it appeared.

“I’m sorry, Merlo. I have no solutions either. Just letting you know this is the best I can do.”

—

The walk back to the Magic Tower was heavy.

It wasn’t just because of fatigue.

I already knew that my new colleague, the alchemist, was a public servant of the Magic Tower. However, I hadn’t expected that the alchemist managed the Oracle’s and the Talent Development Institute’s backdoor funding.

I also already knew that the National Security Agency had been monitoring her for over 20 years, but today I learned for the first time that they had critical information regarding the Magic Tower.

What should I do?

“…….”

They say the Magic Tower is earning foreign currency to create slush funds.

This wasn’t exactly shocking information. It was a common occurrence for government departments in authoritarian countries, especially those in third-world areas like Africa or the Middle East, where slush funds are made for the elite. Southeast Asia was no different.

Right now, the Red bastards were also robbing foreign currency using Room 39, the Foreign Ministry, and intelligence agencies. It was an open secret that North Korea’s intelligence and special agencies used every means possible to fund Kim Jong-un’s slush funds. Joint ventures with foreign companies, operating overseas restaurants, exporting specialties and minerals, weapon parts smuggling, drug trafficking, hacking cryptocurrency exchanges, insurance fraud, and so on.

Since Kim Jong-un took power, Room 39 and the Foreign Ministry earn money legally, but the Reconnaissance General Bureau and the Ministry of State Security still involved themselves in illegal activities like drug trafficking, arms dealing, and hacking.

Because of that, the Chinese Ministry of State Security apprehended Bureau of State Security agents smuggling drugs in the border area, causing diplomatic issues. In 2010, the National Intelligence Service collaborated with the CIA and MI6 to track down and freeze Kim Yong-chul of the Reconnaissance General Bureau’s overseas hidden accounts.

So, it wasn’t surprising that the Oracle of the Magic Tower was accumulating foreign currencies to create slush funds. I’d seen worse before. Such practices were common in this line of work.

“…….”

If I were a journalist, I could write an article immediately to expose this fact to the world. The right to know. Freedom of the press. I could slap such labels on it.

If I were a politician, I might use this information for national interest. Or expose the Magic Tower’s corruption to change the world. Perhaps I could even exploit it personally to prepare for the next election or to fill my pockets. Elected politicians in democratic societies had that kind of power.

But I wasn’t a journalist, nor a politician.

I was a soldier. An intelligence agent at that.

The only thing I had to do, the only thing I could do, was one.

I sorted through all the intelligence I gathered and sent it to the Military Intelligence Agency.

The encrypted materials were coded so that nobody could see them, and the protected messages rode the magical waves to the headquarters’ communication room.

And then, I got a reply.

[Message confirmed.]

Read it.

There were no commands or directives included, and the encoded message unraveled was all there was.

“…Is this it? Was there no other content?”

“None recorded, Colonel.”

“…I understand.”

The operator bowed and closed the door to the area assembly room. According to regulation, the document containing the message was sent to the shredder, and I trudged down the corridor. I exited the representative office building.

Since I had taken a day off today, there was no need to deal with work.

People might have found it strange for someone on a day off to suddenly come back and write a report, but nobody really cared. The Defense Attaché Office was an area not accessible to just anyone, and the ones working inside didn’t pay me any mind. It was the principle of compartmentalization.

Intelligence agency personnel didn’t know what others were doing next door. Nobody told them, and they never tried to find out for themselves. So when the office next door became noisy, most simply assumed something must be happening and let it go.

That’s why nobody found it odd that I had been to the representative office. After all, it was someone else’s business, and if you meddled in it, you’d only end up with a headache.

I walked through the streets of the Magic Tower with a heavy mind.

“…….”

A wizard flew above me, perched awkwardly on a broom. Garbage thrown by the wizard landed with a thud in a tin can put out by a goblin.

The homeless goblin stared at the can for a long time in silence, before spitting a curse after the wizard disappeared. The green arm protruding from beneath a rag was riddled with syringe marks.

In the back alley beyond, a beastman was tearing open a trash bag. Its triangular ears stood straight, but it seemed to be missing its tail, as if it had been cut off.

Across the road, a wizard with a cape pulled low anxiously thrust a bag forward, while an orc police officer patrolling in pairs began rummaging through it, starting a stop-and-search. The other orc stood back, hand resting on his pistol, keeping a watchful eye on the wizard.

Perhaps in an effort to save on taxes, the nighttime scenery in the center of the Magic Tower was not what it used to be. Even though it was still early evening, the shopping street was engulfed in darkness, and the merchants were shutting down one by one, returning home. The faces of the merchants cleaning up were grimmer than I had expected. Perhaps it was due to the recession, or maybe it was because of the riots that had escalated to a near-outburst level.

I took in each scene with my eyes while wandering through the streets.

Perhaps due to heightened patrols, I didn’t spot any robbers even when passing close to the slums. Instead, it was brimming with police, who were stopping and searching the passersby.

Of course, I wasn’t among them. The police, wielding batons and gesturing, stepped aside quietly as I flashed my diplomatic passport.

Thanks to that, I was able to continue my train of thought without any interruption.

“…….”

People managed to live on, while the world did not.

The Magic Tower faced an unprecedented political crisis. Protests were escalating daily, and public opinion in the international community was not sympathetic.

The Empire seemed poised to make a move. Operatives from the Reconnaissance Command had been dispatched en masse, and confidential communications flooded the diplomatic missions based in the Magic Tower. It was clear there was something brewing, but I didn’t know what.

The National Security Agency was deliberating on how to deal with the Magic Tower. They seemed at a loss on how to address the governance structure of the Magic Tower and the Oracle’s slush fund issue. It was something that couldn’t be resolved on the intelligence level; it had to be coordinated with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or the Ministry of Defense, requiring approval from the president and the legislature, but they hadn’t disclosed what precisely was needed.

Prime Minister Abas was in the same boat. He too was wrestling with how to deal with the Magic Tower, yet he offered no clear answers either.

The Royal Intelligence Department’s intentions were unclear, while the Military Intelligence Agency had checked the message but issued no orders.

Saint Veronica, who had predicted something interesting would unfold in the Magic Tower, continued to remain silent. She mentioned introducing someone but didn’t say who or when.

I kept attempting to piece together something. The psychology and interests I didn’t know, international affairs, diplomatic policy, national defense and security, economy and foreign relations, upcoming elections, candidate selections, slush funds, alchemists, Lucia, Camila…

“…….”

It felt like everything was just out of reach, frustratingly mismatched. Not a single thing I thought of was certain.

Well, when has anything ever been certain?

There was so much I didn’t know, but I could learn little by little, and if there was no answer, I would just need to search for one.

As I thought that, just when I was about to trudge back to the hotel,

“Frederick…?”

“…Camila?”

At the sound of someone calling my name, my head turned as if by instinct. In the direction of that familiar voice stood a familiar person.

Camila.

“…….”

“…….”

“…Why are you looking at me like that? Hehe.”

“…What on earth have you been doing to change from a white person to a black one?”

She stood before me, covered head to toe in black soot, looking awkward.