A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The door of the fitness center swung open.

The terrorist aiming a revolver stepped inside, scanning the area, while the terrorist with a shotgun awkwardly followed his colleague into the store.

“Is that guy here?”

“No. He’s not here.”

“Ah, damn it. This is nerve-wracking…. Let’s take a short break.”

With that response, it seemed the terrorist relaxed a bit, lowering his shotgun and flopping down onto an exercise machine.

He sighed and glanced at his sweating colleague, shoving the revolver back into its holster.

“Hey.”

“Yeah, what?”

“The investigator you mentioned. Do we really have to keep him alive?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he killed our guys, right? Considering how our kids would react, I don’t think they’d let him go easy. I was wondering if we should let him live since we’re going to kill him anyway.”

The terrorist, with his hand on the holster, trailed off his thought.

The terrorist seated on the machine with the shotgun glanced at his colleague and got up, leaving the gun against the wall.

“I get where you’re coming from. But that’s the decision the doctor made, right? When have we ever regretted listening to the boss?”

“True, never….”

“Remember the last time when those adventurers tried to trick us with potions? The boss saved us. And when you injured your leg and almost had to amputate, he treated you. He’s always patched up Morrian too when he came back wounded. Right?”

“Yeah, I know. I know, but… ugh. I just don’t get it.”

“If we get through this without a hitch, we won’t have to worry about dying anymore. You can live with your wife and kids too. You have citizenship, right?”

“I do, but my wife and kids don’t. They’re from No Man’s Land.”

“If this goes well, they’ll get citizenship too. You’ll be able to send your kids to school and take them to the hospital. It’ll all be settled. You know that, right?”

“Ugh…”

The terrorist nodded.

“If we can negotiate with the government, everything will go smoothly. The boss didn’t need to show up, but he came to help us.”

“Yeah, I trust him. But I can’t trust that merchant. Where on earth did he get those creepy items…?”

“True, it’s a bit unsettling, but they definitely work, right? Let’s not worry too much. Is there no water here?”

“Over there. Water dispenser.”

The terrorist’s eyes lit up as he spotted the water dispenser at his colleague’s gesture. He waddled over, leaving the shotgun behind.

“Wow, this is great. I almost died drinking that filthy river water. At least here the water is clean.”

“It’s Abas. It’s the capital, that’s why. There are still wells out in the countryside.”

“We have wells too, what’s your point? Aren’t you going to drink?”

“Not really.”

The terrorist washed his face with the water from the dispenser and drank from a leather canteen.

He stuffed the blood-soaked towel into his pocket and wrapped a new one around his blade as he moved in closer behind him.

As the terrorist was drinking, he spoke.

“Evgeny, are you really not going to drink? It’s clean water, it’s better to drink now….”

I caught the terrorist’s neck and kicked his knees. The terrorist’s joints buckled, and he fell to the ground instantly.

I swiftly grabbed his chin, turning his head to the left and stabbed diagonally into the inside of his collarbone.

Then I twisted.

“Ugh…!”

A short gasp echoed through the fitness center. The blade sank deep into his collarbone, precisely severing his windpipe.

The arm of the terrorist, who was about to clutch my head, fell limp by his side.

I pulled out the knife that had cut his windpipe, covered his neck with the blood-soaked towel, and moved the two bodies to a place where they wouldn’t be found.

Thus, the once-bustling fitness center quieted down once more.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Episode 8 – Say Hello To My Little Friend

A few minutes ago.

We were holed up in a store located on an upper floor. The shop offered a great view, encompassing the entire first floor and lower floors, including the atrium.

With four customers coming in, one would expect an employee to greet us, but unfortunately, the staff were absent. They were probably captured by the terrorists or hiding somewhere.

I surveyed the members of my party sitting around the table.

Lucia was burning incense to mask the scent. Francesca was sitting cross-legged, sipping a drink while resting her sword on the table. Camila was fiddling with the pistol I had given her. She seemed a bit anxious.

“Why are you so nervous playing with that gun? What would happen if it fired accidentally and hit someone?”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that….”

Camila quickly pulled her hands away from the gun, stumbling over her words. It seemed she was indeed anxious, as she stopped talking and slightly bowed her head.

Francesca, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, rubbing the back of her neck as if tired.

“Colonel, what are you planning to do now…?”

“We need to find a way out.”

“Hmm….”

Francesca sipped her drink while letting out a questioning hum.

“The terrorists have taken over the department store, and they’re blocking all external communication with that dark veil likely originating from black magic. How are we supposed to get out…?”

“……”

“Do you have any ideas at all?”

“Well, I do have a couple of methods.”

I placed my hand on my notebook and leaned forward.

“There are a couple of ways we can exit. To be precise, I should say, it’s more like options you can choose from to break out.”

“What kind of options are those?”

At Francesca’s question, I began to count them off with my fingers.

“First, we can seek outside help to find an escape route. Second, we can disable some kind of cargo that should be located somewhere in the department store and escape by our own means.”

“……”

“The former relies on there being a functioning communication system; the latter requires the premise that the cargo is indeed tied to black magic.”

Suddenly, someone raised their hand. It was Lucia.

“What do you mean by a functioning communication system? We can’t even use our mobile phones or payphones right now.”

I didn’t need to answer that. I played back the recording I had hidden.

The tape hissed and whirred, and then a conversation between two terrorists could be heard.

[…Who took the radio?]
[Uhm… there’s one with the broadcast team and one that we have… Oh! We also gave two radios to the guys who went outside earlier.]

“What’s this?”

“This is a recording of the terrorists’ conversation.”

“Is that how a radio works normally?”

While Lucia and Francesca tilted their heads in confusion, I held up the radio I had confiscated from the terrorists.

“Communications can be broadly categorized into three types: simplex, half-duplex, and full-duplex. Simplex can only receive transmissions but not send them.”

In other words, it’s like a radio. You can listen to what’s broadcasted from the station, but you can’t send any messages back.

“Most conventional radios use half-duplex communication, where only one person can talk at a time with no interruptions. It’s commonly used by military or police. Conversely, full-duplex allows both party members to talk simultaneously. It’s somewhat similar to a mobile phone.”

I waved the radio I took from the terrorists.

“This device is a full-duplex radio. It was made by an Abas company for adventurers or hunters entering No Man’s Land. By domestic law, civilian communications entering No Man’s Land must operate on a full-duplex basis.”

“Just hearing about it makes it sound like an expensive item.”

“What else can I say, Saint? You can’t save your neck without spending a little.”

Lucia examined the radio with her fingers stroking her chin, while Francesca chuckled in response to her mutterings.

“The terrorists mentioned a broadcast room. Given that there are only four radios, it seems there are too few radios compared to the number of terrorists, suggesting that many of them might not be familiar with using these radios. Also, since they’re speaking in Kien despite some of them being able to communicate in Abas, it seems likely that the terrorists are either from the Empire or living close to No Man’s Land. But that’s not the point now.”

The key point was the broadcast room.

“One of the terrorists I spoke with mentioned they were negotiating with the government. Presumably, there’s still a functioning communication device in that broadcast room.”

While I could figure out from their conversation that the terrorists had at least been divided into two groups and both had radios, I chose not to elaborate further.

At this point, Camila, who had been quietly listening, joined the conversation.

“…Can we trust those terrorists?”

“Of course not. But if they’re a chatterbox, that changes things.”

Information officers love talkative individuals. They unknowingly leak a wealth of information while prattling on, regardless of whether it’s true or false. What matters is that they continually disclose information.

“One of the terrorists said they studied emergency medicine at Sezhanov University. I’m sure both Saint and Administrator here know that languages differ by rank within the Empire. They have different accents and vocabulary.”

This is akin to the situation in England.

Had it been Camila’s usual behavior, she would have likely made a comparison stating how it is similar to England, but perhaps due to being conscious of Lucia and Francesca, she refrained from doing so.

“It seems he used common terms and accents from a lower class, likely indicating he had a rough time, but people’s speech patterns revert to their native tone when they get excited. And his accent became noticeably middle-class when he explained his motivations for the terrorist act.”

“Oh, right. I noticed the tone slight change too.”

“The terrorist, using that middle-class accent, spoke a foreign language fluently. Since there’s no case where Abas is taught in the regular curriculum of the Kien Academy, he must have learned it in university. Knowing the military service period is three years, it suggests he served around twenty years ago. Current terms have seen a six-month reduction. While I can’t vouch for the medical college, the terrorist I spoke with definitely has at least a bachelor’s degree.”

“So, that means that broadcast room really has a means to contact the outside?”

“Yes, it seems that way at least.”

“Where exactly is that?”

Camila asked with wide eyes.

“According to Abas municipal law and building regulations, multi-use facilities like department stores must establish a command center for safety management. I think that’s what they’re referring to. However, I’m not sure of its specific location.”

“Are you really not sure? That’s the most crucial part!”

“This building was constructed before the amendments, so… I’m not a lawyer, how can I know the old regulations…?”

“Ugh…!”

Camila let out a terrible scream and started banging her head on the table. It seems like she was losing her mind. She must have finally reached her limit.

I inserted my hand between her forehead and the table, glanced at Lucia and Francesca.

“What are you two planning to do? Are you going to find the command center, or should we look for that cargo?”

“Can’t we do both? Must we choose just one…?”

“I’m sorry, but Saint, one of the principles of Abas’ counter-terrorism response is to cut off communications, magic, electricity, water, and gas. If the situation escalates, being isolated will deter terrorists from taking aggressive actions. While the government might allow some communication from the command center, we have no means to gauge their intentions. Most importantly, it’s dangerous for us to disperse here.”

Lucia nodded with a bittersweet smile while Francesca leaned back in her chair, gently swaying her legs.

“How about we endure a little longer…? The terrorists are likely far fewer in number compared to the hostages, and one of them is injured, so they shouldn’t be able to move easily. The government won’t allow the terrorists to hold the department store indefinitely.”

I shook my head at her suggestion.

“The likelihood of the terrorists spotting us exceeds that of the counter-terrorism squads entering before them. And until we understand the layout of the department store and pinpoint the terrorists’ numbers and the hostages’ positions, the government will not commit any forces.”

“Why is that?”

“If a terrorist incident erupts in the heart of the capital, every reporter would swarm. Should they send in counter-terror units without clear information and cause a hostage to die, what would happen then?”

“Oh, I see. It’s a political issue.”

Francesca, like Lucia, nodded in agreement. In truth, whether Lucia or Francesca—or even Camila—was taken hostage, it would lead to a political disaster for the government. They would be scrutinized if they failed to rescue them and would be assailed with questions about why they didn’t anticipate such a terrorist occurrence in the capital even if they succeeded.

Perhaps the Prime Minister and the Minister of Foreign Affairs were the ones truly on edge.

The government likely hadn’t even grasped the situation yet, so we had to carve our path to survival.

While pondering my plan, I decided to take a leap of faith and ask a question. There’s a saying about collective intelligence, after all. Who knows?

“Do either of you, Saint or Administrator, have any good ideas?”

Of course, the answers were unfortunately what I expected.

“No… I’m a magician.”

“I don’t have any particular insights either….”

These useless individuals. It was my fault for expecting anything. I resolved not to undertake any group projects with them in the future.

With a long sigh, I lowered my head.

“Ugh… then let’s do this. We’ll split up. I’ll search for the cargo, and you guys look for the command center.”

“…Is that going to work?”

“What’s stopping it?”

We just need to head toward Seoul, and it doesn’t matter what we do as long as we get out of here.

“Just in time, we’ve got someone who can help us.”

I placed my hand on Camila’s shoulder, who had been banging her head. She flinched! Camila shuddered and slowly lifted her head. She looked quite dazed.

“Me…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, come on….”

*

“The search on the first and second floors is complete. There are no unusual circumstances, and no one has been found so far.”

“Is that really the case?”

“Yes, Doctor. There’s nothing at all.”

The middle-aged former doctor looked worriedly at the terrorist. The built-t terrorist subtly avoided the doctor’s gaze and kept his head down.

“Are you sure you did a proper check?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor. But there was truly nothing there.”

“I’m not doubting you, just… Marco.”

The doctor gave a gentle pat on Marco’s shoulder. Marco couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, even at the doctor’s casual gesture.

“How many have returned? It doesn’t seem like everyone is here.”

“Most have returned. Evgeny and Muhammad haven’t made it back yet.”

“I see. Evgeny and Muhammad, huh… it’s no wonder their faces aren’t around.”

The doctor stroked his thick beard while deep in thought.

Evgeny, who hailed from the Empire, was a talented sharpshooter capable of hunting from afar, and Muhammad, who had been forced into illegal residence while trying to earn money, was a young man with excellent stamina. Since he spoke Kien, they communicated well and had a close relationship.

Remembering how Evgeny would often invite Muhammad over for meals at his house, the doctor spoke up.

“Where were those two supposed to have gone?”

“They mentioned they would scout to the furthest points. But you know Evgeny’s character, right? He always goes further than he says.”

“Indeed. Sometimes he would even spend the night outside.”

“They’ll be fine. With Evgeny and Muhammad, they can manage well no matter where they are.”

Marco’s words seemed to reassure the doctor.

Having returned from searching the first and second floors, the terrorists gathered again to plan their search for the remaining floors. They were down to two members, so their plans changed to search only the third floor, but it didn’t pose a substantial problem.

As Marco discussed the structure of the department store with the doctor to devise a more concrete plan, suddenly, from a distance near the front door, someone shouted.

“Hey, Marco! Lucas! Get out here right now!”

“What’s up, Visar? You’re not summoning us for another weird occurrence, are you?”

“I found a suspicious person here!”

“…A person?”

As Marco mumbled, he began to move, but the doctor sprinted ahead toward the entrance.

He pushed through the crowd, quickly locating the terrorist named Visar.

“Who is it? Is it that investigator?”

“No, Doctor! It’s not a man, it’s a girl!”

“…What? What do you mean by that?”

The doctor stared blankly at the person Visar had brought. A girl with red hair and blue eyes, soaked in cold sweat, looking uncomfortably around.

The middle-aged doctor and the terrorists collectively gazed at the girl their ally had found. No one dared to utter a word.

Amidst the suffocating silence, one terrorist awkwardly questioned in Kien.

“…Visar. Girl. Where did you find her?”

“She was just wandering around by herself. I found her hiding behind a flowerbed.”

“What a truly foolish choice. A girl with a lacking head. Doctor, please check her out.”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary….”

While the bewildered terrorists whispered around the girl, someone suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!” It was a fox beastman.

The terrorists collectively turned their heads toward Morrian. The fox beastman groaned, propped up by his arms, struggling against the tightly wrapped bandages.

“I know that girl! I saw her earlier!”

“…Morrian. What do you mean by ‘girl’? Please use proper terms.”

“That’s not important, Doctor! She’s the girl who was with that dark-haired guy!”

“Dark-haired? You mean he has black hair?”

“The bastard who walked around with that Franz gun!”

At the fox beastman’s words, the terrorists’ stares towards the girl shifted.

The terrorists glanced at the girl with suspicion. Some started to pick up unusual vibes and began surveying the area, while others fiddled with their weapons.

The doctor told Marco to fetch Morrian and then, in a rather gentle tone, asked the girl.

“Are you from Abas?”

“……”

“I see you don’t understand Abas language. Where are you from? Can you perhaps speak Kien?”

“……”

The girl did not answer. Surrounded by piercing gazes, she nervously glanced around.

The doctor tried conversing with her in several foreign languages without success and eventually let out a sigh.

“This… she might not be able to speak. She could be deaf.”

“Doctor, are you saying she’s disabled?”

“I’m not sure. She could also be someone from a foreign land that I don’t know about. But that investigator seemed to be from Abas…and why was she wandering with him?”

Having exhausted all conversation avenues, the doctor turned toward the fox beastman. Morrian, supported by terrorists, was shuffling about.

“Morrian. Do you have any idea if this girl can speak?”

“I don’t know. But she didn’t say anything when she was with that guy.”

“Oh….”

“She looked like she couldn’t understand much either. She was dazed and ran off when the fighting started.”

Hearing Morrian’s description, the doctor stroked his chin. After contemplating for a while, he finally spoke up.

“Tell me more about that man who was with this girl.”

“He was tall…. had black hair…. and his irises were brown. He was in a suit but only carried a shotgun and a knife.”

“A knife…? What kind of knife are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It was just a really long knife.”

“A police officer has no reason to carry a knife. Hmm… do you remember how long it was roughly?”

“Well, about this long?”

The beastman stretched out his fingers to indicate the length, roughly around 15cm.

A police officer carrying a knife of that length.

Something feels off.

“Was that man carrying a gun? It’s hard to say whether he was on duty or off, but police would likely have carried a firearm, even if it was just a sidearm.”

“…Gun? Oh, now that you mention it, that girl had a gun. A pistol.”

“The girl…?”

The doctor turned to look at the girl. She was still scanning the area, looking anxious.

The doctor turned to Visar, the terrorist who had brought her in.

“Did this girl have a gun?”

“No, Doctor. I never saw one. If she had, she would’ve shot it already.”

“……”

That much was certain. The fact that the gun was now missing meant that she either lost it or handed it over to someone.

However, with her age, she appeared far too young to be a police officer. Perhaps if she were a university student, but she looked nothing like an actual officer.

The doctor averted his gaze from the girl. Although there was suspicion, he held only a hunch.

While deep in thought, Marco, who had been helping Morrian, casually tossed a question toward the doctor.

“What should we do, Doctor?”

“……”

“Doctor?”

Something feels wrong.

I had no evidence, but I couldn’t shake off that sense. While mulling over the situation, the doctor faced Morrian and asked.

“…Morrian.”

“Uh, Doctor. Why?”

“Do you remember what kind of pistol that was? The one that this girl had?”

“The pistol…?”

The beastman perked up his ears while rolling his eyes to the right. His ears twitched, and his tail swished back and forth.

“I don’t know much, but it was really small. It definitely wasn’t a revolver.”

“…It was small? How small?”

“Well, it fit comfortably in one hand? Even while she held it, it seemed like a toy.”

Pointing at the girl, the beastman said. The doctor raised the girl’s hand to measure how big her palm was.

As he examined the girl’s hand, he mumbled barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

“…Hey.”

“Doctor, what is it?”

“…Never mind.”

“Huh?”

“…She’s not a police officer.”

The doctor declared.

He quickly lowered the girl’s hand and addressed the group.

“Abas police use large pistols designed for adult males. There’s no way this girl would look like she was holding a toy when she grabbed it.”

“What? So, are you saying she’s not a police officer?”

“She’s not a police officer…. But if she isn’t, then who….”

At that moment.

A deafening explosion reverberated through the air. The sudden noise rang in my ears, staggering me. It was such a loud bang, it felt like a break had occurred within my eardrums.

Nothing could be heard. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if all sound had vanished completely.

The doctor collapsed to the ground, dazed, shaking his head. Distant screams echoed in his fuzzy ears.

While crawling around, the doctor suddenly heard a faint clattering sound.

He lifted his head to look ahead.

In a store less than 15 meters away,

a man was standing there holding a gun.