A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Crack!

The cassette player shattered with a terrible noise. The device, reminiscent of a dying breath, soon ran out of life and was discarded. I tossed the broken player under the table.

I sat quietly, closed my eyes, and swallowed my anger.

Whether the embarrassment of having broken the player was due to the fear of being eavesdropped, or if it stemmed from my fury at not having properly checked the communications network even after eating this dreadful meal, I couldn’t be sure.

What was certain, though, was that the contents of the call had slipped into someone else’s hands.

“…”

As I continued my silent contemplation, Francesca Ranieri across the table stared at me intently.

Then she began to chatter.

“I didn’t expect you to crush the player with your bare hands. You’ve got more strength than I thought.”

“…”

“It was quite a sturdy item, after all.”

Episode 6 – The All-Knowing Spy’s Perspective

There was a brief commotion, but the atmosphere quickly calmed.

Since I hadn’t intended to intimidate Francesca Ranieri in the first place, there was no reason or need for me to do so.

Although she appeared surprised, that was where it ended.

Thus, no one paid attention to the smashed player.

I remained seated, while the administrator of the Magic Tower Secretariat was sitting across from me, sipping on the punch I had made.

“…”

I took a moment to ponder how the call could have leaked.

“Who gave it to you? That tape. The Magic Tower? The Empire?”

The administrator replied.

Neither, she said.

“The Magic Tower and the Empire are both erroneous.”

“Then who? There aren’t many bold enough to eavesdrop on the call of an Abas diplomat in this continent.”

“Why do you assume it’s something I overheard…?”

With her legs crossed, the administrator posed her question provocatively.

In truth, judging by her expression and tone, it seemed less of a provocation and more of a genuine inquiry: ‘Why are you not suspecting me?’

I kindly answered her question.

“Because I know you lack the ability to do so.”

Eavesdropping? That’s not something just anyone could accomplish easily.

In the modern society of the 21st century, while various eavesdropping devices might be readily available from Amazon or eBay, such markets did not exist here.

More importantly, I wasn’t foolish enough to get caught by such low-level tactics.

“The call was made on a prepaid phone from a moving vehicle. Eavesdropping on a moving target is difficult unless you have mobile equipment.”

For instance, something like a satellite that can access civilian communication networks without being restricted by space and time, or signal intelligence reconnaissance aircraft capable of eavesdropping from a low altitude.

Those items were significant intelligence assets that even well-off nations found hard to handle.

In this reality, trying to use even one satellite owned by South Korea means getting a line up at the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Unification, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the police just to get through NIS approval.

“Operating high-performance intelligence assets is not something private enterprises can easily do. It’s a national strategic asset.”

Therefore, it was simply impossible for an individual to dare handle such items.

Unless it was a van equipped for signal intelligence collection owned by the 73rd Project Division.

“What if they overheard it from close range…?”

“That makes less sense.”

While the vehicle itself was on the move, eavesdropping from a close distance isn’t an easy feat either.

Unless it were a conversation directly held between Veronica and me, communications are hard to eavesdrop on.

Because,

“The telegraph poles and magic waves obstruct communication eavesdropping. Moreover, that area had a lot of telegraph poles and a significant amount of traffic which amplified the magic waves as well. Otherwise, every time that person called my number, it would imply that the base station was recording the call content.”

“…”

“Given how many prepaid phone SIM cards I’ve purchased from the Magic Tower so far, that’s even more absurd. If it were supposed to be this obvious, the Public Order Defense Agency or the police would have been alerted beforehand.”

Would a mere civil servant have better information collection capabilities than intelligence agencies and intelligence police?

That’s nonsense. Even third-world intelligence agencies that I had never heard of wouldn’t be that unqualified.

No matter how much the gap between advanced and developing country intelligence agencies might be as wide as Usain Bolt racing against a high school champion, they would not be so far behind an average person.

Thus, it made no sense for Francesca Ranieri to have better information collection abilities than the Magic Tower. It’s the kind of writing that would earn the author scorn if they did that in a novel.

It would be far more realistic to say that foreign intelligence agencies or the Magic Tower’s counterintelligence agencies passed information on to Francesca Ranieri.

And above all,

“I’m not an idiot.”

I wasn’t the kind of fool who would let my communication be tapped to that extent.

If I were, I would have likely already met my end somewhere off the western sea or the South China Sea.

When a person is upright, they bear no shame and have no hesitation, so my question was utterly lighthearted.

“Who gave it to you? That recording tape.”

The alchemist’s answer was no different.

“I heard your skills were commendable… but it turns out they’re much better than I expected…”

As expected.

Someone had delivered a recording file to the alchemist.

So,

“Where did you hear that from?”

“I wonder…?”

“…You sure did stick the straw in quite well.”

Someone had leaked my information externally.

“That’s quite something, huh?”

*

Francesca Ranieri has my call contents. It meant someone had leaked my information to her.

I had no clue who that scoundrel was.

It wasn’t the mood to ask that, nor did that person strike me as someone who would readily answer it, so I decided to postpone finding the answer to that issue for later.

“What will you do now?”

I asked the alchemist sitting across the table.

“Indeed, what shall we do…?”

The alchemist, draped in a bathrobe, looked at me with a grin. She was the real deal of a uniquely mad woman. She resembled Veronica a bit, but perhaps due to being slightly less mature, the complete resemblance wasn’t there.

If Veronica was a crazy woman where you could never predict where she might go, Francesca Ranieri was a mad woman whose thoughts were elusive. In this light, she shared some similarities with Camila in terms of being hard to read psychologically.

Located somewhere between Veronica and Camila, Francesca Ranieri occupied that ambiguous space.

“….”

By the way, I had no idea what this crazy woman, who was an administrator of the National Security Agency, was doing.

Could it be that Sophia was slacking off on her work?

That seemed unlikely. As far as I knew, Sophia was a person who always prioritized work. In other words, a workaholic. Sometimes it was so extreme that collaborators would commit suicide or informants would die, but even after causing such incidents, she returned to her duties without a care, so it would not be an exaggeration to say Sophia wasn’t the type to slack off.

Then, could it be that she had been apprehended by the Magic Tower’s counterintelligence agency or expelled?

That was a somewhat plausible scenario, but honestly, it wasn’t the case.

Sophia had been active in the Magic Tower long enough (having recently claimed to have been dispatched to cover Fabio Verati), and unlike me, wasn’t a formal disguise with guaranteed non-arrest privileges but an unofficial one, so if she had been caught by the Public Order Defense Agency, she would have been chased out a long time ago.

Then where could Sophia be?

Could it be that Sophia herself handed it over?

“…”

No, that can’t be. That would be utterly ridiculous.

Handing information to a monitored subject. And especially to a foreign intelligence agent, it didn’t make sense at all.

The National Security Agency that collaborates closely with the Abas Information Agency wouldn’t allow that. This would imply that Sophia acted unilaterally, but the Sophia I knew wasn’t the type to be such a troublemaker.

Then the answer would be that another intelligence agency leaked information to the alchemist.

But why?

“Alright, got it….”

The alchemist let out a deep sigh, as if wearied, and relaxed.

“What’s important to Colonel, isn’t that….”

“…”

Thump.

A brown envelope was tossed onto the table like a die.

“You need information about Ra Cardinal…? More specifically, information regarding the Oracle’s slush fund…”

“…Who told you about that?”

“Um… perhaps a passerby from Albas left it by your bedside…?”

I ignored the alchemist’s nonsense and opened the envelope. Inside were documents related to Ra Cardinal’s imports and exports. Specifically, paperwork regarding the flow of funds earned through smuggling goods into the Magic Tower via a shell company.

The accounting ledger.

“…”

I paused for a moment as I pushed the papers with my finger.

After some time, Francesca Ranieri tilted her head and spoke.

“Not looking at it…? It was a gift I prepared, you know….”

“How am I supposed to know if this is food you’re offering as a gift or a poison meant to kill me?”

“You haven’t even touched the punch I made…”

Then what reason do I have to trust it?

“Hmm….”

The alchemist, slumped over as though she would fall apart, rested her chin on her hand and gazed at me.

Her posture made it look as if she was looking up at me, but in reality, neither of us was looking down or up at the other.

We were sitting at the same level across the table, gazing at each other.

“You’re quite cautious as I’ve heard….”

Perhaps the gaze might be similar as well.

The alchemist was quietly observing me with a smile. The image was that of a discerning customer checking a product, which left me feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“Let’s not waste our energy. You seem to know everything.”

“What do you mean…? Do you mean I’m someone who fills the Oracle’s pockets?”

“….”

“Or that Colonel is actually a spy instead of a diplomat or a hero’s companion…?”

The alchemist smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes curling flirtatiously. A chasm of depth lay beyond. Violet eyes flickered.

Were those eyes felt as abyss-like, just due to my imagination?

Perhaps not.

“If I were to blow your cover of being a spy and you were to expose me as a smuggler filling the Oracle’s back pockets, who do you think would perish first?”

“I would perish first…? Colonel has a place to return to, but I don’t have a home…”

That was quite a candid answer.

It was so unclear whether it was a lie or her true feelings.

The alchemist smiled mournfully as she continued speaking.

“The Oracle receives absolute support within the Magic Tower… and since the current Tower Master is from the Empire, politically supported externally, it wouldn’t be easy for him to fall…”

The alchemist began reciting the domestic and international situation of the Magic Tower with a mournful smile.

“The problem is the economy… There’s some corruption in the upper echelons, whether in a democratic or monarchic nation… and while there is a self-correcting mechanism, it’s not a significant risk, but the Magic Tower is different… Here, in a magic society, the situation is dissimilar compared to other countries…”

“…”

“Of course, even if such risks exist, companies wouldn’t easily pull out… Given the infrastructure and transport networks, if one wishes to distribute goods to the Empire, this place is the most attractive after ships… and they have so many invested businesses that pulling out investments would feel a waste…”

The alchemist spoke without interruption.

“Other countries can impose economic sanctions to restrain the Oracle, but… no matter how much the Ministry of Finance and Ministry of Foreign Affairs suppress trading and commerce… the market generally doesn’t always align with government interests…”

“…”

“There’s no chance the Magic Tower would collapse economically… Honestly, politically speaking, the same goes…”

The alchemist had now become the administrator of the Magic Tower Secretariat.

“Then, in the end, I’m the only one who ends up with a head bashing against the dragon’s bones… Colonel is well protected by the country, as you mentioned earlier…”

And she transformed back into the alchemist.

“…”

Francesca Ranieri sipped her punch, resembling my grandfather who enjoyed his soju without any snacks.

Saying so makes her sound older. That crazy woman was still in her mid-20s.

“…”

Now I see, she’s quite adept at self-objectification. She understands her station in life.

So I ask this.

“What’s your reason for choosing such a reckless gamble?”

So what do you want from me, damn it?

“If you want to commit suicide, go see a counselor or jump off from your place. I don’t understand why you’re sticking your neck out here asking to be killed, all while providing such expensive punch.”

I meant for her to state what she wanted directly without dragging it out unnecessarily.

I asked.

“What do you want?”

The administrator replied.

“Well…?”

“If you keep this up, I might genuinely end up killing you.”

The alchemist stated.

“At times like these, isn’t it more appropriate to ask not what you want…?”

“…”

“But rather ask what you wish to do…?”

I glanced at the alchemist’s remaining punch and my untouched punch.

Then I questioned.

“What exactly do you wish to do?”

*

As the cloudy sky began to drizzle at 2:37 AM.

Someone urgently knocked on the door of the Abas Representative Office stationed at the Magic Tower.

“Who is it?”

“Representative. It’s Lieutenant Jake from the Defense Attaché Office.”

Once the representative’s permission to enter was given, Jake hurried into the representative office.

Then he turned and closed the door behind him again.

“Lieutenant Jake. What business brings you here at this late hour?”

“I’m sorry for the bold intrusion at dawn, Representative.”

Having verified that the manager was missing after a morning spent spinning radar while everyone else was asleep, Jake rushed to the representative office, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as he prepared to speak.

“So, what is it?”

“Actually, Colonel Frederick is missing—”

He stiffened.

“Hey?”

The person who was said to be missing waved his hand while sipping whiskey in a corner of the representative’s office.

What on earth is going on?
“Wha—what the hell?”

As Jake, who endured a sleepless night, struggled to maintain his composure amidst the shock, the operative emptied the whiskey glass and walked over, draping an arm around his shoulder.

“Had a great time, Representative. Please say my regards to the administrator.”

“…”

“What are you doing, man? Let’s go.”

The operative delivered a greeting that was hardly polite and exited the room.

Recovering from the state of disbelief, Jake’s attention snapped back to the representative’s deliberate cough, prompting him to rush out and follow the operative.

“Where have you been, sir?! Huh?!”

“Ah, come on. Keep your voice down. All the neighborhood dogs will start barking.”

“Where were you?!”

“I was briefly kidnapped nearby. Did a roundabout trip.”

“Excuse me?”

“I went to meet an informant and a collaborator, you bastard.”

The senior operative strolled down the stairs nonchalantly, while the junior operative hurriedly followed behind.

“Kidnapped? Where were you?! The staff members were in a panic looking for you at this hour—”

“Can you get in touch with the staff members?”

“What?”

“Can you contact them?”

“Well, of course, I can, right?”

“Well then. Gather the staff members to a designated location, pick up the analytical team, and bring them here.”

What the hell is going on?

Jake stared at the operative in astonishment.

“…Why?”

Why, indeed.

“What would spies gather to do?”