A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

“Alright, so where do we go first?”

I asked, nibbling on the edge of my eyeglass frame while sitting in the passenger seat.

“Anywhere you want to go?”

“Home.”

As I voiced a wish that came from the depths of my heart, Veronica let out a small chuckle and started the engine.

It was a blatant mockery, but I was too drained to retort. I threw the cheap sunglasses I had bought to hide my eyes into the glove box and asked Veronica, who gently pressed the accelerator.

“So, where’s the item you wanted to show me?”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t planning to rummage through all these containers just because you called a busy person over, are you?”

At those words, Veronica turned to look at me with a mischievous smile.

“You really don’t think I would, do you?”

“…No way.”

“I can totally see what you’re thinking, and you’re probably right.”

“……”

The lobbyist smiled broadly as she pointed to the mountain of containers.

“We’ll look at all of these today.”

—

Episode 6 – Omniscient Spy Perspective

—

Veronica’s claim of wanting to check every single container was no exaggeration. She truly seemed intent on opening every container in the Magic Tower today.

“These are cigars made from tobacco grown in Kamatra. Kamatra cigars are famous for their deep brown color and subtle flavor. And this one… it seems the leaves are grown in Bonét. The old-timers rave about it, but it doesn’t suit my taste.”

Cigars, tobacco leaves, rolling tobacco.

“Verdin chocolate! This is my absolute favorite. The best ones are made by mixing cocoa butter with milk! But thanks to the recent shortage of cows across the continent, they can’t make it.”

Chocolate, snacks.

“Patalia wine. It’s the most expensive wine sold in the world. Abas wine is nice too, but here there are plenty of wines with distinctive regional characteristics unlike Abas. However, due to the recent bad grape harvest, the price has skyrocketed. If I ordered two months ago and still don’t see the stock, even the wealthy can’t easily get their hands on it lately.”

Wines, including whiskey from various countries.

“Wow, a lot of clothes and shoes here? None of them are handmade, but they all sell well thanks to the brand names.”

“……”

“Oh, this is a limited edition! I had to send investigators to search the whole cult to find one of these, but they were all sold out.”

Veronica grinned as she held a pair of expensive-looking shoes close to her.

And she boldly asked, “Shall I take one?”

“…Are you sure you’re a priest? This is outright theft.”

“What does it matter? Just go to confession afterward.”

I was losing my mind.

“…Saint, please ease up on the nonsense.”

“I’m just joking, you know? Can’t a girl make a joke? What’s with being so uptight?”

“……”

I buried my face in my hands as I hung my head low.

With how brazenly she acted, I couldn’t bear to lift my gaze.

It was Veronica who was doing something embarrassing, yet I couldn’t understand why I felt humiliated.

“Veronica, do you have no conscience?”

“Oh dear. I’m still a representative of God, you know? Is it okay to say that to a saint? This is like a religious trial.”

“…You bought your way into sainthood.”

“As long as I won a seat, it doesn’t matter if it was through bribery or vote manipulation!”

Regardless of all this, Veronica continued enthusiastically rummaging through the containers for some time.

Some containers revealed items with fixed prices, while others contained artworks or crafts that were hard to price.

Veronica wandered around, appreciating the items as if she were at an exhibition.

But this wasn’t a refined museum; it was a mountain of stacked containers, which meant I had to trail after her without getting a moment’s rest.

And by the time Veronica found a luxury watch in one container and started swinging a golf club pretending to be an amateur golfer, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Veronica.”

“Yep.”

“Are you messing with me right now? You said you’d show me items, yet you’re only showing me strange things. Did you come here to shop? Huh?”

To be honest, I was annoyed.

No matter how much Veronica was a saint, I wasn’t someone who could indulge in her antics—I’m a diplomat, not a carefree person.

Yet, Veronica looked at me with a bright smile as if nothing was wrong.

“I’ve already shown you everything, haven’t I?”

“Shown me what?”

“What do you mean what?”

She casually tapped the watch on her wrist as she spoke.

“It’s a smuggled item.”

—

“So, all of this is smuggled?”

“Yup.”

“……”

I glanced at Veronica’s nodding head and then at the mountain of containers piled up before me.

“……”

All of this was supposedly smuggled.

“There are a few fakes mixed in, but most of these are legitimately produced goods.”

“……”

“I pulled a few tricks, though.”

I forced a nod and looked at Veronica.

“…So, they come from factory overstock? Leftovers that workers smuggled out?”

“Oh, how do you know that, Colonel?”

“How could I not know?”

It was impossible not to.

“Well, a while back, I had sent some cigars as advance payment for an undercover operatives. It’s a very expensive item if you buy it at retail…”

“And?”

“Well, it’s a socialist country, so even if you work hard, you only get paid a set wage. Workers smuggle out goods as side income. Since they are much cheaper than retail, I bought a huge amount and sold them to the operatives.”

“Oh, so you’ve used the black market before. But which country are you talking about?”

Cuba.

“Anyway, you wouldn’t know what that is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? How boring.”

Veronica seemed to be pouting, trying to make me notice it by puffing up her cheeks and mumbling nonsense.

I pushed her distracting self away and refocused on the conversation.

“Right. I know all this is smuggled, but why are you showing it to me?”

“You work for the intelligence department. Isn’t tracking stuff like this part of the job?”

“That’s for the Royal Intelligence Department or the Imperial Guard HQ. Why on earth would the military care about smuggled goods?”

Tracking smuggled goods clearly falls under the intelligence agency’s job in international crime investigation. But it’s the National Intelligence Service that takes care of that, not the military intelligence.

Honestly, why would the military be worried about crimes? The military intelligence only focuses on matters related to the military.

They might be aware of underworld organizations’ movements, but if they get information on smuggling operations, they just hand it over to the Cabinet Security Office or the Special Investigation Bureau.

It’s the same in South Korea.

The NIS and police collaborate to trace smuggled goods; military intelligence wouldn’t care unless it was something leaking from North Korea.

In other words, this was not my problem at all.

“Wrong number. The military doesn’t deal with smuggling or drugs.”

“I know that much too.”

“Then why are you showing me this? Also, how did you know those were smuggled goods in the first place?”

How did the saint know there were smuggled goods here?

Knowing where the smuggled goods were located; okay, I could accept that. But knowing the exact location and containers filled with smuggled goods felt unnatural.

It was as if someone had pointed it out to her.

I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on as I looked at her questioningly, and Veronica offered a light smile.

“Can’t I know something like this?”

“Whose cargo is this?”

“All owned by private enterprises. More specifically, paper companies. There are several, so it’s hard to pinpoint one, but the one with the most cargo belongs to a company called La Cardénal, registered in Alandirus.”

“La Cardénal?”

“It was originally a Patalian company but moved to Alandirus in between. Well, they went bankrupt in the business and just relied on the name.”

So goods owned by ghost companies.

“Saint, I’m asking this seriously, do you have ties to criminal organizations?”

“No, Colonel, what on earth are you thinking of me? Do I look like the kind of woman who mingles with that sort of thing?”

Yes.

“…You could be that kind of person.”

“You just stuttered.”

“I did not.”

“Look me in the eye and say it. Did you stutter? Did you not stutter?”

“Oh, that’s not what’s important right now.”

I pushed away Veronica’s glaring face.

What was important wasn’t this.

“Where’s the person you said you’d introduce me to earlier?”

Veronica was a person who gathered information through her connections.

If a lobbyist like Veronica had a friend in the Magic Tower, there was a huge chance she had spilled some information about the smuggled goods to her. And based on the vague hints I’d been given, it seemed that person was that someone.

“It seems the person you wanted to introduce me to is your information agent.”

“Well, it’s a bit too familiar for that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Hmm, a close sibling? Anyway, it looks like they’re busy right now.”

“What kind of work makes a close sister call without showing their face?”

“Because they are a civil servant.”

“Oh.”

If they were a civil servant, I could see why.

“These days, the Magic Tower has been lively. I understand. With the current situation, civil servants can barely even get off work…”

“I’ll definitely schedule a proper meeting next time. I’m sorry.”

“Please refrain from contacting too much. And next time, don’t just say you’re sorry, try showing it on your face too.”

Looking up at the sky, I noticed the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon.

Other than finding the smuggled goods owned by ghost companies, today hadn’t produced any notable outcomes.

I figured I could just about make it back to the hotel in time for dinner.

“Then, we’ve seen everything for today, right? I’ll be on my way now.”

I stretched my stiff body and turned to leave for the hotel.

“Oh, wait a moment…!”

…Veronica had detained me.

Veronica anxiously grabbed my hand and said, “What’s wrong? You mean there’s still something left to see?”

“Yes.”

“…….”

“Oh, Colonel, I know you must be tired, but there’s just a little bit left…”

“…I want to rest now.”

“I get that… but please, just this one thing, then we can go…”

—

Veronica led me to a container. It was a rusty, bright red container with assorted patches of rust.

As I stood there, tired and dazed, Veronica placed her hand on the thick steel door.

“Here we are.”

As she swung the container’s unique steel doors open, a cloud of dust rushed out.

That was the difference between this rusty red container and the ones we saw earlier. It was so poorly maintained that dust piled thickly on the wooden boxes and all over the insides of the container. It was evident that it hadn’t been serviced for years.

But Veronica seemed unfazed. Whistling, she walked inside the container.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

“…You want to breathe in the dust pit?”

“Heal once with a heal spell! Now come in quickly before someone sees us.”

Reluctantly, I covered my mouth and nose with my sleeve, waving my hand as I entered the container after her.

As Veronica carefully glanced around and closed the door, I crouched down and scanned the wooden boxes stored within the container.

Given the box size, it didn’t seem like anything huge was packed inside. The quantity was small, too.

However, the boxes were devoid of any markings or symbols, leaving the ownership and contents a mystery.

“What’s this all about?”

“Want to guess what it is?”

Here we go again.

As I stifled a sigh, afraid of inhaling dust, Veronica smiled as usual and opened a wooden box. She began fiddling with something inside the box.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a second… Oh, found it!”

Veronica exclaimed something and quickly raised her upper body to extend a finger in front of my eyes.

“Suck on this!”

I stared blankly at the outstretched finger.

“…You want me to suck on your finger?”

“Yup.”

“…….”

Every time I saw her, it was like she was completely out of her mind.

I could simply pull out whatever was in that box and directly taste it, but with how dusty it was, everything about it felt tiresome. I just wanted to leave soon.

In the end, I held her wrist, embodying the spirit of a president chewing on a Fukushima cucumber, and closed my eyes to lick her finger.

“…….”

The first thing I felt was saltiness, followed by the dustiness, and then a late-arriving intense bitterness and sourness.

As I grimaced, I rolled my tongue, savoring the unique bitterness and sourness that filled my mouth. That bitterness and sourness felt curiously familiar.

I mentally battled against the rising nausea as I tried to remember where I had tasted this before.

And finally, the moment I recognized the taste from distant memories—

“…What the hell?!”

Coughing up the remaining powder, I panicked.

“This is meth!”

It was drugs.