A Dark Fantasy Spy

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To communicate with the outside, a signal must be reachable. This is something that anyone with a secondary education should know.

However, there is no signal inside the department store at the moment. I need to somehow get outside to call for help.

There’s no reason to hesitate now that there’s something to do.

I headed straight for the back door with Camila. I thought about either getting Camila to safety or calling Colonel Clevenz to send in a mechanized unit from the police SWAT team or the capital defense unit.

The problem was.

“What is this?”

“…Why is this place blocked?”

A black something was blocking all access to the outside.

—

Episode 8 – Say Hello To My Little Friend

The passage was blocked. A black something was obstructing the way.

Just from looking, the suspicious and uncomfortable thing was covering the entire building like blackout curtains from a movie set, severing the connection between the outside world and the department store.

“Can we even get out of here…?”

“I don’t think so…?”

Camila couldn’t even look straight at the curtain, glancing fearfully and shivering, complaining that she felt goosebumps. She murmured that her stomach was starting to feel bad again, even though she was a little better before.

Perhaps it was related to Camila’s unusually strong magic power compatibility or her fainting symptoms. Her condition had worsened drastically just thirty minutes prior.

In any case.

Out of curiosity, I took my mobile phone out of my pocket to see if I could catch a signal.

“No signal here either.”

It seemed that the black curtain surrounding the department store was blocking the signal.

I couldn’t tell whether it was merely cutting off contact with the outside or if it was preventing communication even within the building. But one thing was clear: no mobile signal was coming through.

I had to change my plan. I put the mobile phone away and drew my pistol from my waist.

“Camila. Take this.”

“A pistol…? Why are you giving this to me…?”

Originally, I had planned to send you outside to call for support, but the plan needs to change.

The first thing we need to do is gather more people.

Realistically, two people can’t rescue all the hostages captured by the terrorists, but we can at least move civilians who aren’t captured somewhere safe in the building.

Or at the very least, find Lucia and Francesca to protect them.

So, what we need to do now was clear.

“We need to go into the building.”

“What…?”

“You’ve shot a gun before, right? Since you mentioned getting a firearm license, I figured you’d know how to use it.”

As I firmly placed the pistol and a few magazines into Camila’s hands, she looked startled as if she had just grabbed a hot potato.

“N-no…! How could I shoot someone with a gun? I’ve never had military training…!”

“Do you think they get proper training in the Third World? They’re practically a militia there, and the training’s a mess.”

“But I’m not a rebel…!?”

“If a militia can do it, so can you, Camila.”

After all, I was going to have to teach her how to shoot someday anyway. Information officers should basically know how to handle a pistol.

“It’s not like doing it a little earlier is going to change anything.”

“You’re driving me crazy…!”

“Stop whining and stick close. We’ll talk as we move.”

Fortunately, it seemed that her claim about having a license wasn’t a lie, as Camila immediately showed no interest in pulling the trigger.

I grabbed the shotgun and led the way. Camila, being the diligent type, held the pistol in her right hand, while her left hand closely followed behind me, nervously checking me over.

I scanned around while giving her some cautions.

“Once we enter the building, try not to use magic if at all possible. If you lose consciousness or collapse during a fight, your life will be in danger, and if a fire spreads throughout the building, not only will the hostages be in danger, but so will we.”

First, don’t use fire.

“If you encounter a terrorist, check if there are hostages first. If civilians get hurt, there could be legal issues. While it might be okay if it’s deemed self-defense, you could find yourself in a tough spot if you have to go through the courts. Since this isn’t the British Embassy, if you shoot, only shoot if I shoot first.”

Second, watch for civilians.

“Be very attentive to civilians. Terrorists could be disguised as civilians and mixed among the hostages. There could be collaborators hiding among the hostages in the department store. If you encounter anyone who looks suspicious, let me approach first while you keep an eye out for anyone nearby.”

Third, be careful of civilians.

As Camila vigorously nodded her head, she suddenly poked her head out and asked.

“Be careful of civilians? What do you mean by ‘internal collaborators’?”

I was looking around the nearby entrance to the emergency stairs while I answered.

“The terrorist I killed earlier was located where the staff would be moving, not where the customers would. How would they know to find the employees hiding there to take them as hostages?”

If it were an intelligence agency, they could have hacked into the construction schedule or bribed facility managers to find out the blueprints, but terrorists don’t have that capability. Especially the people from no-man’s-land who struggle with basic necessities.

So it was very likely that there was a collaborator among the department store employees assisting them.

Once my thoughts reached that point, Camila’s face turned pale.

“What if that’s true…?”

“I don’t have solid information. They had passports and train tickets, so they could have been scouting the department store for days. Or perhaps they simply stumbled upon the staff’s routes by chance.”

But we needed to consider the possibility. Intelligence agencies always prepare for the worst-case scenarios.

To ease Camila’s nerves, I suddenly changed the subject.

“You said you worked as an intern and took charge of intelligence analysis, right? So you know about wild card scenarios.”

“The, the analysis technique?”

Wild card scenarios. It’s an analysis method that hypotheses the least likely but most impactful situation.

Given that a no-man’s-land group without money or connections infiltrated the large department store in the capital of Abas with a collaborator is unlikely, but if it’s true, it could be the most dangerous scenario for us.

For Camila, Lucia, and Francesca… and the Abas Information Agency… perhaps I was stepping into the heart of the terrorists’ lair; it could be fatal for me.

But none of that mattered right now.

What truly mattered was that Camila didn’t panic enough to stab me in the back.

I smiled, hoping Camila would relax.

“Camila, do you want to analyze the situation right now?”

“Are you joking right now?”

“It’s just a way to tell you not to be tense. Let’s have a laugh and not rush in without thinking.”

I made sure the surroundings were safe and stood in front of the emergency stair exit.

“Ready?”

“Huuh….”

Camila took a deep breath, nodded, and we moved.

Counting down with my fingers, I kicked open the exit door.

—

Camila and I climbed the emergency stairs to the third floor.

It was unclear whether the military police hadn’t cut off power and communications to the capital or whether the terrorists hadn’t messed with the underground facilities, but the flow of magic was still operational in the department store, as was normal.

The only sound echoing through the emergency stairs was our footfalls. I signaled Camila to open the exit on the third floor.

“No rats around.”

“It’s too quiet….”

Perhaps it was because it was a weekday morning without holidays or special events, but the department store was desolate. Usually, weekdays in department stores are the slowest hours, but even taking that into account, it was too quiet.

Probably because of the terrorists.

I ducked in with the shotgun alongside Camila into a nearby shop at the entrance of the emergency stairs. It was a store with a good view that allowed a clear line of sight across the entire third floor.

I surveyed the entire third-floor shop and frowned.

“Where did Lucia and Francesca go?”

“I only heard them say they were going to look at the women’s clothing stores on the third floor….”

Lucia and Francesca had definitely mentioned to Camila that they were going to the women’s clothing store.

But every single shop within sight was a women’s clothing store. It turned out the whole third floor was dedicated to women’s clothing.

“…Damn.”

It was impossible to check every store for Lucia and Francesca, who might be hiding. Even if they weren’t held as hostages, there were just too many stores.

If we ran into terrorists patrolling while trying to ensure safety and find the hostages, we’d have to engage in a fight. That would be the end for us; we’d be outnumbered.

“Camila, did you receive any training as an intern? In shooting, stealth, or survival skills?”

“Uh, well….”

“Please tell me you did.”

Camila blinked in astonishment.

“Uh, no…?”

Of course not. There’s no way an intern would get any of that training.

Anyway, engaging the terrorists was risky right now. This wasn’t a Call of Duty or Battlefield situation. No matter how trained you are, getting shot still leads to death. We needed to tread carefully.

“Camila, listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

I looked around cautiously as I asked her one important thing.

“If a firefight breaks out and things get tough, you should immediately withdraw and find Lucia and Francesca.”

“What do you mean by that…? Are you telling me to abandon you?”

“It’s better for one of us to get away than to both get taken hostage.”

“Don’t joke around…!”

Camila let out a small scream.

“What if I get caught and killed? How can I just leave you behind?!”

“While my life is precious, that doesn’t mean yours isn’t too. I’m the trained one here; you’re not.”

“You really think this is the right thing to say…?”

“Even the red guerrillas leave someone behind when they flee to save their comrades. These guys are terrorists needing hostages, so they won’t kill me. Plus, you’re useless now since you can’t use magic….”

Just as I was urging her to listen, Camila suddenly slumped down.

She flopped to the shop floor, sweating profusely. Her lips turned white as if she had bitten down hard, and her breath became ragged.

The seemingly fine Camila suddenly collapsed like she was fainting. I rushed over in alarm.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“My, my stomach is nauseous….”

“All of a sudden?”

It was an incredibly sudden situation. While I was considering lying her down and assessing her condition, I heard a ruckus coming from the hall below.

I wrapped Camila’s body in my blazer and crawled in a low stance to glance down the hall.

Down in the atrium, the terrorists were busy moving some bulky cargo with a lot of noise.

The terrorists gripping the heavy exit doors were creating a path, and two of them were dragging a covered cart into the department store.

“That, that’s it….”

Camila, who had somehow made her way to my side, pointed at the cargo, sweating as she gasped.

“What do you mean?”

“That cargo. I don’t know what it is, but it seems to be the problem….”

Ugh! Camila started to retch like she had caught a whiff of something foul. I hastily covered her mouth and draped my arm around her shoulder.

What on earth was going on? Is that really the problem?

I observed the terrorists, trying to figure out the connection between Camila’s suddenly worsened condition and the cargo they were moving.

“….”

There were six terrorists moving the cargo. Two were pushing the cart while the other four guarded them.

Since they had taken the remaining employees and civilians hostage, there should have been more terrorists managing the hostages.

Even disregarding the one I killed earlier, if you count the ones handling cargo with the beastman terrorist who has taken hostages, at least seven terrorists were left inside the department store.

If that cargo were something critical to the terrorists’ plan, one could reasonably guess that they would assign a great number of forces to protect it.

Moreover, when I used the staff passage to reach the back door, Camila’s previously fine condition had noticeably deteriorated once we approached the front entrance. Incidentally, the first place Camila’s complexion had worsened was a men’s clothing store near the front door.

“….”

I didn’t know what it was, but it seemed that the cargo was connected to Camila’s health deteriorating. It might even be tied to the mysterious black something encircling the department store.

Thus, in order to thwart the terrorists’ plans, I needed to eliminate the six terrorists moving the cargo and identify its nature.

One question came to mind. Could I deal with those six?

Even the smallest mistake could put Camila in danger, and any delay could draw in other terrorists for backup. If I didn’t stop that cargo from being transported, I wouldn’t know what exactly the terrorists’ plan was. I didn’t even know why that cargo was needed by the terrorists. It could very well be a bomb brought along for the purpose of blowing up the hostages and the building in case things went awry.

There were no certainties.

There was only one thing I needed to do.

As I began to count the bullets in my pocket to ask Camila something, I heard a loud bang.

– Bam!

The sound of a metal door being kicked in echoed sharply through the silent department store.

In the distance, from the opposite end of the third floor emergency stairs, someone appeared. It was the beastman terrorist who had just disappeared with a hostage earlier.

The beastman terrorist, like an enraged beast, looked around furiously, and then spotted us hiding and shouted.

“You bastards-!!”

The roar of the beast echoed loud in the silent atrium. The beastman, with a large sword drawn, bristled with fur, howling as if the department store would shake.

We had been discovered. Hiding was no longer an option.

As that realization dawned on me, I raised my body and aimed the shotgun.

But I was a moment too slow.

The beastman terrorist leaped onto the railing and crouched down. His leg muscles contracted and expanded and leaped off the rail like a short-distance sprinter. Incredible leg strength.

– Crash!!

The steel railing crumpled with a horrible sound. Shattered bits of glass rained down from the twisted railing, showering the terrorists below who were moving the cargo.

Screams and chaos erupted from below. But neither the cargo nor the terrorists mattered to the beastman.

It seemed he had lost his mind, ignoring the injuries of his comrades. Mercilessly demolishing the railing, he flew down the atrium toward us in the blink of an eye.

“…!”

There was no time to shoot.

I covered Camila as we rolled to the side. We escaped the rush of the beastman terrorist, who smashed through the shop’s window where we had just been.

“Dammit!”

I pointed my weapon at the store and fired a volley. The gunfire echoed, and from the side, I heard Camila scream while down below, the terrorists scrambled in confusion.

Wishing the beastman terrorist would die, or at least hoping he couldn’t crawl out, I kept firing.

“Is he dead?!”

“Every time you ask that, they always turn out to be alive!”

The sprawled-out Camila shouted in a panic. I wanted to scream at her to stop being so pessimistic, but, just like always, my gut feeling proved right.

The beastman terrorist staggered and burst through the shattered glass, jumping out from the shop.

His clothing was torn, and his body was dotted with wounds, whether from the gunfire or the glass.

But the hatred glistening in his wild eyes was very much alive.

The eyes of a beast and the raspy growl of a wild animal. Sharp teeth. Bulging muscles and a brutish grasp of the weapon. He raised a large knife resembling a machete, aiming straight at me.

Again, I aimed the shotgun at him while shouting to Camila.

“Run!”

A single shot echoed across the vast atrium.

—

The shop window shattered into countless fragments, and the displayed products tore apart, scattering into the air. Broken glass fell down, and the hanging wires hung limply like a hanged man. The shotgun erupted with flames, and the spent cartridges rolled across the floor.

I unleashed a flurry of shots toward the beastman terrorist, but he moved incredibly fast, dodging the bullets as he closed the distance.

“DIE!”

For a moment, the world was filled with light. The muzzle flared, and the beastman terrorist lowered his posture, dodging right while swinging his legs in a wide arc.

I raised my gun to block. In a shocking display of power, he pressed in relentlessly.

With an enormous impact, my arm holding the shotgun was wrenched to the side. Even with both arms straining to brace myself, I was thrown off balance by the shock transmitted through the weapon.

“Ugh…!”

The terrorist didn’t waste that moment. He lunged for me, grabbing me by the collar.

With strength rivaling his superhuman agility, my body was suddenly lifted. I struggled to breathe. The shotgun I had lost grip on lay pitifully at my feet.

I fought to escape the grip of the beastman terrorist, but he only tightened his hold as he leaned in, baring his teeth.

“You little bastard! How dare you!”

His sharp teeth loomed closer, poised to tear into my flesh. I struck at his arm with my fist, but it barely budged.

Time to change tactics.

“…You won’t be able to swallow…!”

“Looks like you miscalculated!”

“Where do you think you’re barking up the wrong tree?!”

I pulled the knife from my pocket and stabbed it into his side.

“Clang!”

The beastman terrorist screamed in agony, reeling back. Before I could pull the knife out, I twisted the hilt, jamming it deeper into his side.

The sound of tearing flesh echoed, and with each agonizing thrust, his screams grew louder. The terrorist tilted his head back, moaning in pain, releasing his grip as he lifted one hand to stem the blood flowing from his side.

I stopped stabbing and swung the knife viciously. My target was his neck. I aimed to slice through his carotid artery and finish him off.

But.

“Damn you, scream like a little bitch!”

The beastman terrorist let out a furious cry, pulling free one hand, and grasped my knife’s blade.

I tried to yank it out, aiming to sever his fingers, but instead, he clutched my wrist, forcing the blade into my shoulder.

A hot sensation surged through my left shoulder. I felt the failed nerves and blood vessels rupture, sending waves of fire shooting through my body.

For a moment, I thought I might die here. The reality of death loomed closer, perceptible to my skin.

Just before dying, I caught a glimpse of Camila behind the beastman terrorist, desperately trying to aim her gun at him.

“….”

She was hesitating, unable to shoot since I was in the line of fire.

My mind went numb. Between the beastman’s angered voice and Camila’s distressed shouts, I heard a small crackle of a radio.

– “Hey! Just heard gunfire! What’s going on? Report your location immediately! What’s happening?!”

It was the terrorist’s radio. Hearing the gunfire, it was only a matter of time before other terrorists arrived for backup.

I struggled to keep the knife positioned against the beastman’s shoulder, and I looked back at Camila.

If the reinforcements showed up, she could become a hostage too. If Camila got caught up in this, I could really die. For some reason, it seemed the beastman terrorist had gone insane with rage focused solely upon me.

While the beastman was preoccupied with me, I had to send Camila to safety.

“….”

I took a deep breath and twisted the beastman’s thumb backward with all my strength.

Crack! The beastman terrorist’s thumb bent in an unnatural direction. I gritted my teeth and forced it back even further while shouting to Camila.

“Go…!”

“….”

“Go now!”

Camila alternated glances between me and the beastman before resolutely gritting her teeth and rushing toward the emergency stairs. Thankfully, she had remembered to take the pistol.

I had to hold the beastman down to give her the chance to escape.

I pulled the knife from his shoulder and stabbed it into his abdomen, then delivered a swift punch to his jaw. He staggered backward, grappling with his gaping side in pain.

Bleeding, the beastman glared at me with a vengeance, growling fiercely. I held my knife tightly, beckoning him closer.

“Come on.”

“….”

“Come on, you bastard!”

The beastman roared and lunged at me. As I swung the knife in for a strike against his neck, the beastman dodged with uncanny reflexes, grabbing my waist and tossing me out of bounds.

Out over the railing.

“You’re dead-!!”

“This madman—!”

I fell like a WWE wrestler, crashing toward the ground below. There was no time to brace for impact or prepare myself; I fell through the air, landing with a thud.

—

Unimaginable pain shot through my body. The immense ache made it hard to breathe properly.

As I waited on the ground, memories of being hit by a truck floated into my mind. Where was it? Eritrea? I remember being shoved by that red bastard in a modern truck.

I inhaled slowly, gripping the remnants of my fading consciousness. Lucky I didn’t fall on my head; I wasn’t dead, but I was certain some bones were at least broken.

I crawled through the shards of glass in a daze, retrieving my abandoned knife and shotgun.

Camila should have made it somewhere safe by now; I needed to escape too.

“….”

When I looked up to scan my surroundings, my eyes met the stunned expressions of the remaining terrorists, awkwardly poised as they dusted off bits of glass and debris from their clothes and hair.

Leaning on the shotgun like a cane, I sighed heavily.

“…Crap, I’m in deep trouble.”

11:27 AM, Day 3 of my vacation, lunchtime.

Instead of having lunch, I decided to take on six terrorists.