A Dark Fantasy Spy

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If you were to ask who the most famous group in the world is right now, nine times out of ten, everyone would unanimously reply that it’s the people who came from another world and their companions.

The agents of God. The first offspring of the Mother. Guardians of the Tenets. Apostles of the Foreign Press. Dragon Slayers. Non-Gods. Heroes.

The titles they are called vary according to cultural spheres, but currently, all these numerous titles point to just one person. And around her are three companions.

The priest Lucia, born in an orphanage and became the 59th Saint of the Cult. The alchemist Francesca, who experienced the family’s decline and a sort of exile to become an administrator in the Magic Tower Secretariat. And finally, the resident officer Frederick, who was simply serving in a normal capacity but was chosen by the gods and drafted.

The last person pales in comparison to Lucia and Francesca, as it really was so.

He couldn’t use magic, didn’t enhance his body with magical power, and wasn’t born with any mysteries. All that Frederick had was a major’s insignia and a rather superficial identity as a resident officer. His background wasn’t bad either, but it wasn’t a well-known aristocratic family like the Lanieri family, which had produced numerous esteemed figures in the government and society.

However, from Veronica’s perspective, such public evaluations were purely nonsense.

There weren’t just one or two ambiguous aspects to dismiss him as ‘an insignificant person.’

The Abas Information Agency was among the best on the continent, along with the Empire and the Cult, and that man belonged to it. The Government of Abas was providing substantial conveniences behind the scenes, and he even had a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Finance as a father and a mother assisting the Abas royalty. Above all, he had even sent a cardinal flying, outwitting the internal factions of the Imperial Guard HQ. According to Veronica, a seasoned information agent with over ten years of experience, that wasn’t something easy to achieve.

No matter what anyone said, that man had something extraordinary about him, and Veronica had long decided to place her bets on him. At the very least, he wasn’t a person who would cause trouble and inconvenience those around him.

“……”

And now, as she gazed out into the hotel hallway, Veronica thought, “Kyaaaaah! Help! Help! My colleague is chasing me with a stick!”

“Ah! I won’t hit you, just stop for a moment!”

“Am I crazy to just stand here!?”

“Geez! Just stand there!”

It seemed that judgment at that time had been mistaken.

“…Is he crazy?”

Episode 7 – Daily Life

Camila is undergoing foundational training to become an information officer. From simple techniques to theoretical knowledge, she’s learning what an information officer needs to know, which includes physical training.

However, Camila had a habit of munching on snacks, bread, and drinks even after having three square meals, and naturally, since she spent all day eating, it was no surprise that the training results weren’t showing at all.

So, after reaching an agreement with Camila, I promised to adjust her diet.

“No, do you think it makes sense to eat cake that you couldn’t wait to devour? And two slices at that?”

It was a disaster.

“If you keep eating like that, no amount of training will make a difference.”

“I’m sorry…”

Camila, looking entirely dejected, apologized in a barely audible voice.

I didn’t realize it while carving oak in the office, but now that we were face to face, it was awkward to scold her.

In the end, rather than scolding her harshly, I could only let out a soft sigh and admonish Camila lightly.

“If you can’t even run 10km properly, I’ll really be chasing you with a stick.”

“Yes…”

“Got it? Now go move some stuff.”

Today, my official schedule involved supporting a medical volunteer program. I’d be helping Lucia with her medical services.

To be precise, it was a suggestion from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to promote the activities of the resident officer (myself) and the 59th Saint (Lucia) to showcase how good the relationship between Abas and the Cult was, which the Ministry of Defense accepted and added to my schedule.

According to the foreign ministry employees stationed at the Magic Tower’s representative office, “The image of young men and women leading the future of the country and the Cult while working together in humanitarian activities is too good for public diplomacy,” but from my perspective, it felt like they’d offloaded their work onto me. Cute couple, my foot. At least I had the identity of being Camila’s colleague to lean on.

Although the foreign ministry’s proposal was clearly ridiculous, the Ministry of Defense seemingly thought it was a proper activity with sufficient justification, as they ordered me to accompany the medical volunteer service. Consequently, I was now stuck participating in an unwanted charity event.

Of course, the foreign ministry and Ministry of Defense would likely benefit from such events, but nothing trickled down to me.

“Should I report this to the Ministry of Labor…?”

I seriously contemplated reporting the Ministry of Defense to the Ministry of Labor, but the thought remained just that. I already had an excellent Hassan to work in my place.

I pushed a wooden box towards Camila.

“Work, Camila. If you don’t move this before lunch, you’ll be skipping it.”

“Hiiing…”

*

To cut to the chase, Camila never ended up skipping lunch.

The whole idea of adjusting her diet or seizing her lunch was, to be honest, without any enforceability. This wasn’t some transaction with money or something drawn up in documents notarized by a lawyer.

Her willingness to undergo training as an information officer was purely Camila’s own decision, and whether to keep that promise or not was also entirely up to her. In other words, it was a matter of personal choice.

Even though I moved half of the boxes, Camila didn’t finish sorting them before lunch break, and according to our agreement, she should have skipped lunch… but I couldn’t refuse food given by the Saint of the Cult in a hospital with numerous eyes watching.

“Why don’t you both have something to eat?”

“Thank you, Lucia.”

“Thanks! Lucia!”

“Enjoy your meal.”

Camila, who was worn out from moving boxes, gratefully accepted the basket with a bright smile. She removed the white cloth covering it and took a hearty bite out of the sandwich.

“Nom nom.”

“…Is it good?”

“Yes!”

Oh dear.

“Take your time eating; I’m not going to take it from you. Make sure to drink your milk too.”

I handed her the milk, which still had warmth thanks to magic.

I had brought her along to burn some calories and provide various training opportunities through medical volunteering, yet it seemed she was gaining weight rather than losing it.

Reaching for the basket to grab a sandwich, I suddenly lost my appetite and grabbed cold water instead.

With a sigh, I took a gulp of cold water.

“Haa…”

It was frustrating.

From the moment I decided to train Camila, I had thought it wouldn’t be easy, but I bumped into obstacles I hadn’t anticipated.

And that wasn’t all.

The still tight-lipped Military Intelligence Agency and Clevenz, the suddenly vanished Imperial Reconnaissance Command, and the inscrutable Leoni sparked concern.

I worried Sophia and the National Security Agency wouldn’t pry into the relationship Francesca and I had, and I had headaches contemplating how to control Francesca, who might be harboring revenge fantasies against our allies. The Imperial Guard HQ, lurking in the shadowy alleys, remained a source of unease.

Moreover, there were two companions whose whereabouts remained unknown—Camila or Lucia, or possibly even Francesca—along with various countries and organizations that might be targeting them, tangled in a web of complex interests, and thoughts of these endless concerns flooded my mind.

Whether she knew of my anxious thoughts or not, Camila was busily devouring the sandwich Lucia had brought.

“Can you really get it down? I wouldn’t even manage to eat if I were in your position…”

“People need to eat to survive.”

“Talk about positive thinking. How many have you eaten?”

With a sandwich in her mouth, Camila spread her five fingers wide.

“…Have you eaten five already?”

After a moment of hesitation at my perplexed inquiry, Camila slowly moved her index finger that was holding the sandwich.

Six, it turned out.

“Oh my, good job, our little glutton.”

“Hehe.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

*

“By the way, weren’t we supposed to have some kind of training here today?”

That’s right.

I hadn’t brought Camila to the hospital simply to offload some work and exercise her. There was a real purpose behind it.

“It’s medical training.”

“Medical?”

“Yes.”

I lightly nodded my head in affirmation.

“When you join the information agency, you’ll get medical-related training. Not to the level of performing surgeries or examinations, though; we’ll teach you necessary first aid knowledge.”

“Ah, like TCCC?”

“Similar.”

Tactical Combat Casualty Care. In short, it’s emergency care.

It isn’t anything grand. It’s similar to how middle and high schools gather students in an auditorium to teach CPR or how to make a triangular bandage for stopping bleeding, and how to use makeshift splints for fractures—only a bit more specialized due to the nature of the information agency. The content isn’t particularly difficult.

Camila cocked her head as she began to speak.

“Is it really necessary to come all the way to a hospital to learn that?”

“I’ll be going over pharmaceuticals today. They’re tough to get quietly, so we’re having the training here at the hospital.”

“Pharmaceuticals? I’m not a liberal arts major.”

“No problem. I was a liberal arts major too.”

Perhaps because it was lunchtime, the hospital was sparsely populated.

After handing out a small gift (bribes in the form of snacks) to the nurses on duty and using the emergency stairs, I climbed to the upper floor to search for the pharmacy management room.

“Time isn’t on our side, so I’ll keep this brief.”

As I walked through the pharmacy room with Camila, I started my explanation.

“When you get injured, the best choice is usually to go to a hospital, but if you need to provide emergency first aid on-site, you should know how to handle pharmaceuticals. In a battlefield where bullets fly, there’s no time to complain and wait for an ambulance to arrive if an artery gets hit. Generally, if you’re providing first aid on-site, you’ll be using more tools than pharmaceuticals. In case of a laceration that requires stitching, methods like using a skin stapler to staple the skin or tying it with sutures are the most common. And if you don’t have any medical threads or needles, you can substitute with something else to stitch the skin.”

“Substitutes? What do you mean by that?”

“You can use fishing line or dental floss as a substitute for sutures; you could even glue the skin together with tape or super glue. If that’s not an option, tying it up with a bandage is also a way.”

“Oh…”

Camila gasped quietly and covered her mouth.

“Do we really have to go that far?”

“If you don’t want to die, yes. Of course, tying it up with a bandage is the standard method. Anyway, it’s crucial to address immediate life-threatening bleeding first. If an artery bursts, you’ll usually die in around five minutes, so you must stop the bleeding before transporting them to the rear for antibiotics and painkillers and proper surgery. If the situation permits, you should be able to procure your own antibiotics and painkillers. So for today, let’s just look through the antibiotics and painkillers here.”

I navigated through the pharmacy, explaining one by one to Camila.

“There are various types of antibiotics. Such as iodine, chlorotetracycline, fusidic acid, mupirocin, gentamicin, metronidazole, and so on. The most frequently used is iodine. It’s often injected or taken as a pill or applied as an ointment. But remember, don’t use ointments on wounds that need stitching. Also, be cautious of some antibiotics that could trigger allergic reactions.”

“There sure are a lot of types of antibiotics.”

“There are many painkillers too. The most commonly used is a drug called Ketamine, widely used in military hospitals and emergency rooms. The U.S. military particularly favored Ketamine during operations in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

“But don’t painkillers have narcotic components? And anesthesia is similar?”

“That’s right. So, drugs like Ketamine can also be misused for crime, and in South Korea, Propofol is sometimes used as a substitute for narcotics.”

This is why these medical narcotics are stored separately in the pharmacy management room, accessible only to authorized personnel. Of course, this town had loose security, so it was easy to slip in.

I was showing various pharmaceuticals to Camila in good spirits. Some were familiar from previous uses while others I only remembered by name, and there were even completely unfamiliar drugs.

As I continued my explanation while rummaging through memories, Camila picked up one of the medicines.

“What’s this? It seems like eye drops.”

“Oh, don’t touch that. It has side effects.”

Side effects? Camila mumbled, staring at me intently.

“All drugs have side effects, don’t they?”

“What you’re holding, Camila, is a paralyzing eye drop. If it goes in your eye, you won’t be able to see anything for several hours.”

“Eww.”

Camila hurriedly set the drug down and rubbed her hands. I examined the eye drops she had placed down and provided a short explanation.

“It’s an eye drop with anticholinergic properties. Have you ever had an eye procedure done at the eye clinic?”

“No? I haven’t.”

“This eye drop is used before eye examinations for procedures. It’s an anticholinergic drug that inhibits the action of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine, limiting eye movements while dilating the pupils for easier examination.”

“You seem surprisingly well-versed in pharmaceuticals?”

“I was educated about it.”

For reference, one of the anticholinergic drugs is Atropine.

“The military in South Korea has a nerve agent antidote kit named KMARK-1, which includes an Atropine injection. When chemical bombs fall, it’s the first thing they inject. That’s an anticholinergic drug. If I had gotten that injection when I collapsed from nerve poison at the cult, I would have been fine.”

“Do they teach that in the military? Chemical bombs aren’t used anyway.”

“When North Koreans start a war, they’ll fire chemical bombs first. Can we afford not to train for that? They’ve stacked chemical bombs in their artillery ammunition depots… Ah, by the way, such anticholinergic drugs are also used during torture in information agencies. Keep that as common knowledge.”

“Torture?”

As the topic piqued her interest, Camila reacted. I nodded and took out a bottle of eye drops to start explaining.

“As I said earlier, anticholinergic drugs inhibit eye movement and dilate the pupils, causing blurred vision as a side effect. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“When capturing spies or terrorists, if you need to extract information urgently, torture is usually employed. Among many types of torture, there’s a method involving intimidation with the eyes.”

“Intimidating with your eyes, you say?”

“Threatening them with a knife, saying you’ll pluck out their eyes. It’s not like you actually pluck them out; it’s just a scare tactic.”

That’s when such drugs are used.

“Anticholinergic drugs, along with antipsychotic medications containing Atropine, can suppress neurotransmitter actions, dilate pupils, and restrict eye movements. If you beat up a spy or terrorist until they faint and then give them such drugs, they’ll genuinely believe they’ve lost their eyes. Some of these drugs have side effects lasting beyond a week. From there, if you grab their other eye and threaten them, they’ll likely spill the beans.”

“Is there a reason to do that…?”

“Don’t overthink it; just keep it simple. People fear a life worse than death, and information agents, at the end of the day, are still human. They wouldn’t want to live blind for the rest of their lives. Thus, in torture, threatening to make someone lose their vision often works better than simply threatening to kill them.”

It’s easier to die than to endure and hold on when you know it’s inevitable.

Having finished my explanation, I turned to Camila to take questions, but her reaction was rather peculiar. Camila was glaring at me with her brows furrowed, casting a doubtful glance.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know, but isn’t it a bit much to say that openly?”

“Oh, come on! It’s just training! Don’t look at me like I’m Hitler or something!”

“Hey! Anyway! Just keep that in mind for future reference; you never know when it might come in handy.”