NOVEL WEB Chapter 120
The thugs dragged me out of the vehicle and took me somewhere.
Considering the texture of the floor, the noise, and the echo of sounds, it seemed to be the inside of a building, possibly a corridor.
It reminds me of SERE training.
The thug muttered something in a language I had never heard before. It sounded a bit like Pashto. It was probably a tribal language from Mauritania.
His voice was deep, likely belonging to a man in his forties. From a slight distance, I could hear it, and moments later, the thug who was holding me sat me down in a chair. I didn’t know the exact meaning, but it must have been a command to sit me down.
What on earth is going to happen now?
“…….”
Perhaps the thugs who kidnapped me are from the Information Agency of the Mauritania Continent. They might be a militant group acting under the orders of the Imperial Guard HQ or the Reconnaissance Command, or perhaps they are terrorists who just took me hostage to extort a ransom.
If they are the kind of people who cut off heads in front of a camcorder, then damn, that’s unlucky.
Any of those hypotheses could feasibly be true.
The key issue isn’t who kidnapped me, but how quickly the Military Intelligence Agency can pinpoint my location and send a rescue team.
The distance we traveled in the vehicle didn’t seem that long, so it shouldn’t take more than three days to track me down.
“……”
Voices could be heard.
One sounded like a significantly younger male, and the other, a much higher-pitched and awkward female voice.
“Take off your hood.”
“Yup.”
Suddenly, someone shoved aside the cloth covering my head. My vision brightened in an instant, and under the soft lighting stood Francesca Ranieri—
“Administrator?”
“Long time no see, Colonel.”
She greeted me with a smile.
—
Episode 6 – All-Knowing Spy Perspective
I genuinely have no clue what’s going on.
I was kidnapped on my way back to the hotel after clocking out at the embassy. I was stuffed under the backseat of a vehicle and dragged around for 48 minutes. Now, I’ve been brought to some unknown place.
And here, I met a colleague.
“It’s quite a busy day, isn’t it? Isn’t that right, Colonel…?”
“……”
Correction.
Not just a guy, but a gal.
—
Francesca Ranieri.
Administrator of the Economic Management Department at the Magic Tower Secretariat and an alchemist.
She looked at me, wearing a sorrowful smile.
“You look surprised. Not as much as I expected, though….”
The cape I was used to seeing was nowhere to be found. Francesca Ranieri sat comfortably in a bathrobe, looking at me with an easy demeanor.
“…When a person is too shocked, they can’t speak well.”
“That’s true….”
The alchemist chuckled softly and nodded.
I turned my head to check who had brought me here and where I was.
Before me was an upscale chair and table. Far off, I saw a bartender wiping glasses at the front bar, and right next to me was a swimming pool. And within arm’s reach stood men who looked to be from Mauritania—holding guns.
The thug and the alchemist exchanged words in a language of their own. A brief conversation passed, and the thugs cut my wrist ties before exiting through the door.
What a ridiculous situation this is. By the time I wished someone would just tell me how things were going,
Timing is everything, and the alchemist spoke up.
“Your journey here was a bit, noisy… wasn’t it…?”
…A bit?
“You openly committed an illegal act; you seem quite relaxed, Administrator. Are you not aware that kidnapping a diplomatic envoy is a serious crime?”
I could see the situation clearly. I didn’t know the details, but since this was the first person I had met after being kidnapped, it was clear that this alchemist was at least indirectly involved in the abduction.
And kidnapping a diplomat would be a severely punishable crime in any country.
“Me…?”
But Francesca Ranieri, still with her smile, looked around and said,
“It’s just the two of us here. The ones who kidnapped you are no longer around. It doesn’t seem like I’m particularly involved in my encounter with you, does it…?”
“The police might think that, but Abas certainly won’t.”
“If Colonel stays quiet, then I doubt there’ll be any issue…?”
“Do you think I’d act that way?”
Well, who knows?
Francesca Ranieri smiled nonchalantly and stepped to the front bar. She picked up a cocktail shaker from the shelf, gently shook it, and continued her speech.
“I’ve heard you don’t like alcohol, but…. I’ve learned how to make a new punch recently, so I hope you can try it today.”
“……”
What is this crazy woman planning? She kidnaps someone on their way home, displays armed thugs, and now she wants me to try her homemade drink?
What a unique kind of crazy.
Why is there never a normal woman around me? It’s incomprehensible.
“Damn punch, you go drink it yourself.”
“If you’d like, you can return to the hotel anytime. The distance is quite far, but I won’t stop you.”
“Of course, you should.”
I attempted to get up from my seat.
But wanting to stand up wasn’t the same as turning around and returning to the hotel.
What held me back was, of all things, the voice of the alchemist.
“But if you leave now, you won’t ever hear the answer you seek.”
“What nonsense is that?”
“La Cárdenal.”
“……”
“……”
“…What do you want?”
Suddenly, the alchemist dragged her chair closer, smiling at me.
“Shall we have a seat first?”
—
Francesca Ranieri guided me to the table. Under the soft lighting, she served me an exquisite cocktail she made herself.
“Aren’t you going to drink?”
“I have no intention.”
I hadn’t touched it, but—what made me trust that the alchemist would mix a drink without any tricks?
Of course, it wasn’t just the ingredients in the cocktail that made me hesitant to drink. There was an underlying reason I chose not to consume what she offered.
“What did you bring me here to say?”
“Kidnapping? This is an invitation instead.”
“I don’t recall accepting it.”
“But you didn’t refuse either.”
Francesca Ranieri casually sipped the punch she made.
“What about those people earlier? Mercenaries? Criminals?”
“They are individuals contracted to assist with maintaining public safety and streamlining administrative procedures at the Magic Tower.”
PMC, huh. So they’re contractors from a Private Military Company.
Contractors can be gracefully described as heavily armed quasi-military personnel, or less charitably, mercenaries taking on dirty and troublesome jobs for money.
The hiring entity is the Magic Tower government. The official reason is to assist the Magic Tower Police in maintaining public order, but in reality, it serves to alleviate the burden from the insufficient human resources of the police and to obscure accountability. The amount of information I had about PMCs operating in the Magic Tower was about that much. To be specific, I knew this from basic information briefings based on materials from the Military Intelligence Agency and related organizations, as Pippin explained it that way.
It was common for local governments, foreign governments, and private enterprises to hire PMCs in the Third World, so I just shrugged it off.
The crucial point was that Francesca Ranieri was the one orchestrating the PMC.
“Looks like the Magic Tower really hates me. Even hiring mercenaries.”
Although PMCs work for money, the standard is that a formal contract is signed and the payment is received.
And based on my experience, even hiring a low-tier, struggling company in the industry cost a tremendous amount. No matter how mercenary they were, they were still people, and people take home what they earned. Be it salary or security expenses. Adding bonuses or risk pay, along with company premiums, shoots the price sky-high.
Governments hire mercenaries mainly to alleviate political pressure from public opinion and the international community, not to reduce economic costs.
Therefore, it became clear that it wasn’t Francesca Ranieri who commanded the PMC, but the Magic Tower government. She wasn’t just an alchemist; she was an administrator in the Secretariat.
“It seems the Magic Tower knows nothing, Colonel.”
No, that’s inaccurate.
“The decision to hire a mercenary and to bring you here was all mine.”
“You have quite a nerve!”
“So if you keep quiet, Colonel…”
“……”
“Today’s events can remain our secret… right?”
I chose not to respond to her. Ignoring her question, I sought another topic of conversation.
“Where did you hear about La Cárdenal?”
Francesca Ranieri didn’t answer; instead, she raised her hand to summon the bartender. He approached our table silently, placed a brown envelope down, and left.
For a moment, I worried that at this distance, he might overhear our conversation.
While I was glancing around to gauge the distance between the bartender and us, perhaps sensing my intentions, Francesca Ranieri slowly tore open the brown envelope while saying,
“The bartender is a deaf-mute. He can’t hear.”
“I never asked.”
“I figured you might be worried. Hehe.”
Francesca Ranieri, who laughed in a way that might offend someone nearby, pulled out an object from the envelope and placed it on the table.
It was a cassette player.
She pointed to it and raised her glass.
“Listen. The answers you seek are there.”
“……”
I looked at the cassette player with suspicion, then back to Francesca Ranieri.
However, the alchemist merely wore a peculiar smile, revealing no emotions. So I pressed the play button, stuffing down a nagging anxiety in my chest.
—Click!
As the button pressed, the tape started spinning, and soon, a recorded voice flowed from the player to the table.
[Hey, what’s going on, Merlo?]
[Aren’t you still in the Empire?]