A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

Abas is a large country.

Though perhaps not as intimidating as the Kien Empire, which rules the world’s dictators with its bountiful natural resources, or the cults that unleash all sorts of evils under the banner of religion, Abas indeed ranks among the so-called “great powers.”

Economic power,

Diplomatic power,

Military power,

Intelligence power,

Advanced scientific technology, magical engineering, academia, politics, and more.

There are many reasons why Abas is a great power, but its vast territory is one of them.

Thanks to fertile soils and advanced chemical industries, agricultural production is stellar. The country is rich in natural resources like iron and coal, and geographically, it can reach other continents by sea without passing through Patalia or Lushan.

Not to mention, the land area is huge—larger than the combined regions of France, Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium.

Anyway.

Right now, we find ourselves in a coastal city located in the southeast of Abas.

The area enjoys a Mediterranean climate all year round, making it temperate and well-known for its olive and grape productions. It has also been populated by the wealthy for centuries, for various reasons, and is famous for its tourism and leisure spots.

By the way, this is common knowledge among the Military Intelligence Agency. Given that there is a naval base and military resort nearby, intelligence officers may occasionally visit on leave. It’s often said to be an excellent place for some solo relaxation or a joyous family outing.

Yeah.

As much as it’s a great place to visit alone…

“Why do we have to come in a group to such a wonderful place? I just don’t understand—”

“Be quiet!”

—

Episode 9 – Old-Fashioned

—

The coastal city in southeastern Abas. The sea viewed from the sandy beach was breathtakingly beautiful.

The vast and blue sea surged gently as the waves crashed against the pure white sandy shore, with the sunlight dancing upon them.

Sounds of distant ship horns and the rhythmic crashing of waves reached my ears. Vessels busy transporting people and goods could be seen. Those who had arrived at the continent, riding the waves of new opportunities, disembarked carrying their inflated dreams, worries, passions, and poverty.

As the tears shed by the immigrants who left their homeland trickled down into the sandy beach and merged with the sea, my mind drifted to memories of a coastal city in the south of France. It was after I graduated college, when I had boasted to my colleagues about my plans to save money and visit it after being commissioned as a military officer.

“…….”

The sky and clouds, the sea and waves.

Sand slipping between my toes and the scent of saltwater rising from the waves.

While I was lost in nostalgia, a waft of cigarette smoke suddenly twisted my face in distaste.

“Saint, could you please extinguish that cigarette? Why are you smoking by the sea?”

“How about you just stop eating? That’s an option.”

Veronica, clad in a thin outfit, flashed an impish grin as she turned to me. The pale smoke enveloped my face like a gauzy curtain.

“Don’t smoke in public. It’s a nuisance.”

“No one is around us here! It’s just us.”

“I see that you don’t realize you’re being a nuisance to me.”

With her half-hearted remark, Veronica smirked.

“There’s just the two of us, so what’s there to nitpick about?”

She rested her half-finished cigar on a portable ashtray while I shook my head, turning my gaze back toward the sea.

Camila, Lucia, and Francesca were walking along the beach. The sight of the three against the backdrop of the perpetually mild southeastern coast of Abas looked like a painting.

As I watched my companions frolicking on the sandy shore, Veronica, stretching beside me, leaned closer with sleepy eyes.

“So, what exactly is this place?”

“A military base.”

“A military facility? Here?”

“More like a military resort.”

This place was a resort maintained by the Abas Army.

It was available not only to active-duty soldiers but also to reserve soldiers and staff from the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute and civilian workers; just so you know, it is operated by the Ministry of Defense.

The Abas government had opened the military resort to the four of us visiting for leisure.

Strictly speaking, it was akin to holding us captive to prevent any incidents rather than providing hospitality for state guests. But since no one viewed it that way, everyone seemed to be satisfied checking in and receiving generous treatment from the government.

Except for me, who ended up playing the role of caretaker for the foreigners.

“A military resort—shouldn’t we be unable to use it?”

“It can’t be helped due to security. Fortunately, this is a military facility where entry can be controlled.”

“Ah!”

Veronica nodded, smiling brightly.

Suddenly, the three people who had been frolicking in the distance let out a surprised scream when a wave surged toward them.

“There’s hardly anyone else around, but this place is quite nice. It’s known within the military for its scenery and facilities, and there are plenty of recreational activities available. So, generals often frequent it. Occasionally, royals come to visit.”

“But you don’t seem particularly thrilled to be in such a nice environment?”

“Whose fault is that?”

I waved my hand dismissively, feeling playful.

As we strolled along the beach, sharing silly banter that barely scratched the surface of meaningful conversation…

“How are you doing? Is your finger okay now?”

“Oh, my finger? Well….”

I awkwardly raised my thumb and smiled sheepishly.

A week had passed since the injury, but my thumb still felt strangely different.

“It’s still a bit numb. I can’t bend it well either.”

“Hmmm… Looks like you’ll need more treatment. You mentioned you got a month off, right? We’ll help you out, so take your time healing.”

Veronica said she would treat my injuries along with Lucia for a month. There was no reason to refuse their offer of help, so I agreed.

“It seems all three of you have quickly become close. Is it because our hero here is warm-hearted?”

“It seems so.”

To be honest, Lucia and Francesca weren’t the type to reach out first and forge connections easily. It’s not that they were shy—rather, their upbringing simply made it hard for them to get close to others.

In contrast, Camila was the most outgoing among us.

She never hesitated to chat with strangers, always wearing a smile and exuding a lively demeanor toward everyone around her. Camila was undoubtedly a social butterfly.

Thus, it wasn’t surprising that the three had bonded naturally.

“So, how about the colonel?”

Veronica chimed in.

“Have you become friendly with my siblings? Last time I saw you, it looked like you were pretty close with our hero, even hugging in the hallway.”

“Anyone who hears that would think we’re dating.”

“Oh? Were you not?”

If I could, I’d have given her a punch right then and there. But I decided to hold back. After all, it’s best to save up mileage for the right moment. I’d have to find a day to unleash my revenge.

“I’m not close with them. Besides, I’m still not very familiar with the two.”

“Then how about using this opportunity to get to know them better?”

Veronica smiled softly. By now, she had slipped off her sandals and was strolling barefoot along the sandy beach.

“After all, we’ve worked hard for months, so wouldn’t it be better to relax together while we’re here?”

I glanced over to where the three were playing in the water.

Camila, Lucia, and Francesca were jumping into the sea with gusto, splashing water everywhere.

The sight of the sea reminded me of my traumatic training days aboard naval vessels, sending chills down my spine.

I shook my head as unpleasant memories stirred within me, prompting Veronica to startle and peered at me, worried.

“I’d prefer to rest alone….”

Veronica, who had already come to check on me, then quietly suggested.

“Hey, don’t be like that! Why not join in the fun? It’d be great to bond with my siblings.”

“Is that really necessary…?”

“Are you going to keep your distance for the rest of your life? Like now?”

I shrugged my shoulders, avoiding the issue. At that moment, Veronica’s eyebrows furrowed tightly.

“Colonel, do you remember what I asked you the other day?”

“You asked me to treat your siblings well.”

“Exactly. Then why the reluctance? It’s not like you’re disregarding my words.”

Veronica’s frustration showed as she patted her chest, causing something beneath her thin attire to sway.

Though I was momentarily shocked and couldn’t tear my gaze away, I was jolted back to reality by her following words.

“To be honest, when you were in academy, did you avoid eye contact with girls?”

“Who’s barking over there…?”

I shoved my finger in my ear.

Never in my life did I expect to be called a virgin by an oracle. I might not be the first, but I was probably the first man to face such ridicule from a saint.

While I was astonished, I couldn’t refute it due to the discomforting truth.

“Saint, please don’t throw facts at me. Can’t we settle this through decent persuasion and fabrication instead?”

“Stop with that nonsense! Now stop dawdling and get moving!”

—

Veronica dragged me towards the sea. It was quite the sudden burst of energy.

When the water reached our ankles, we began to push and shove each other playfully.

She was determined to dunk me while I struggled to keep my balance and stay above water.

“Do you plan on holding out…?!”

“No! Why are you suddenly trying to shove me into the sea?!”

But Veronica was relentless. Proving that all her lofty political connections weren’t for nothing, she employed little tactics to push me into the sea.

Someone else joined in her antics.

To my surprise, it was Lucia.

“Saint Lucia…? What are you doing…?”

“Sorry!”

“Uh, uh oh…”

Lucia appeared from behind, easily lifted me, and tossed me toward the water.

Suddenly flailing in mid-air, I plunged into the ocean. It felt like I fell several meters.

– Splash!

“…Huff-! …Cough, cough…!”

The December sea wasn’t as cold as I had expected.

However, the abrupt dunk left salty water flooding my nostrils.

As I emerged from the water, struggling to catch my breath, I saw my companions staring at me.

Camila’s eyes were wide in shock, Lucia wore a sheepish smile laced with apology, Francesca beamed with delight, and Veronica was laughing uproariously at my soaked figure, clearly enjoying my misery.

That sight was so infuriating that I retaliated by tossing both Veronica and Lucia into the water.

“Aaaah!”

“Ow…!”

Of course, I didn’t throw them very far, and they quickly emerged back to the surface.

As Veronica spluttered out seawater, she stuck her tongue out at me, sulking.

“What about my clothes? I wasn’t planning to change!”

“Why did you throw me then?”

“Because it was fun!”

Rude. Angered, I pretended to help her up, only to slyly trip her back down into the water.

Thanks to Veronica falling into the ocean, another wave sprang forth.

I chuckled at the sight, and before I knew it, Veronica had wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me back under the water.

In a spontaneous twist, we found ourselves tumbling underwater, and when we resurfaced, a wave came crashing down, right on our faces.

Seeing this, Camila, Lucia, and Francesca burst into laughter, and without exchanging words, we silently agreed to throw all three of them back into the water.

Time slipped away as we lost ourselves in play.

A fleeting moment of happiness.

—

Hours passed, and evening fell. The sun dipped beyond the horizon, hiding its traces, and the shy moon peeked out to illuminate the night sky.

We trudged ashore like shipwreck survivors.

After spending several hours in and out of the water, our hands and feet were shriveled and pale. Perhaps due to the drop in body temperature, even the slightest breeze sent chills through us, and since we had skipped a meal, my stomach was practically glued to my back.

“Wow, it’s cold….”

“Let’s all go in and wash up. We’ve prepared necessary items inside, so just use the room keys to head in. We’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“Okay….”

After guiding my companions to their rooms, I returned to mine to shower.

As I finished washing up and was about to place calls to officials from the Ministry of Defense, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Embassy, and the Representative Office, my companions finally wrapped up their showers and joined me for dinner.

“Now, this feels like a vacation after all! Right, Colonel?”

“It does.”

At last, it felt like I was truly on holiday.

But just because I was relaxing didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any work.

Camila, Lucia, Francesca, and Veronica were important figures wherever they went. Especially Lucia, Veronica, and Francesca, who held substantial influence within the central leadership of cults, as well as being key members connecting the Tower of Magic Oracle with the administrative branches.

Perhaps because it was unsettling to have such individuals together, the diplomatic envoys from the cult and the Tower of Magic scurried over to Abas.

Yet, even with their prestigious titles, they couldn’t dictate what the saints or the administrators did.

In the end, it fell to me, the most manageable of them all.

“Welcome, Ambassador.”

“Nice to meet you, Colonel Frederick Nostrim.”

“You are from the Representative Office? It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you for the first time.”

I was to face the ambassador from the cult embassy, the vice chief from the Tower’s representative office, along with their attendants. I felt as though I would need at least ten bodies to survive this meeting, especially since I was already exhausted.

“May I ask where the administrators are?”

“They’re preparing upstairs. Should I inform them to come down?”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. By the way…I’ve received reports about the regrettable incidents that occurred recently.”

“Yes, please go ahead, Vice Chief.”

“If necessary, we’d like to offer as much help as we can regarding the incident. Please feel free to contact me if assistance is needed…”

The Tower’s diplomat was a professional diplomat. He didn’t seem to have any hidden agenda but was here primarily to meet Francesca. After exchanging typical pleasantries with me, he veered off to speak with Francesca, keeping a respectable distance.

Conversely, the compound diplomat was an intelligence officer. Though he didn’t reveal his identity, it was obvious from our brief exchanges.

“I’ve heard about the recent terror incident. You responded directly at the scene, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Did you come for that incident?”

“Somewhat. It must be quite shocking for you. But if you remember any details, could you contact me directly? Here’s my personal number.”

An undercover Information Agency officer. Given the commonplace roles local diplomats typically held, this guy might very well be the head or perhaps even the executive director of the Abas branch.

His willingness to extend such details was telling, suggesting that the Abas Information Agency was not fairly sharing information with the Inquisition.

For now, I decided to take his business card and put a pause on it for later.

“Understood. Should anything come to mind, I will contact you.”

“Thank you. And this is a gift from the cult for you, Colonel. It’s a token meant to wish you a speedy recovery, so please don’t feel burdened by it.”

The ambassador from the cult handed me a package filled with gifts, which supposedly contained items to aid in recovery. It appeared they wanted to make amends for the troubles I faced back in the department store, where Lucia had also been present.

While I appreciated the gesture, I suspected the gift came with expectations. It was likely a tactic to gain rapport and establish connections. They’d probably ask me about the present and whether I found it useful long before my memories blurred. It was a predictable ploy.

So I decided to just ignore it.

Regardless of what the Inquisition wanted, that was none of my concern.

As I laughed and exchanged pleasantries with the ambassador, Lucia, Veronica, and Camila, who had finished their preparations, joined the group. The cult diplomats kept a watchful eye on the saints while subtly creeping toward Camila. I took note of the diplomats’ faces from a distance, trying to memorize as many as I could.

After about two hours of discussion, it was now 10:30 PM.

Finally, some peace was at hand.

“Ah, we’re finally done….”

“Good job, everyone.”

Once the meeting ended, everyone expressed their exhaustion and returned to their rooms. Only I and Camila remained awake.

Camila popped in, arms laden with tea, her face gleaming with joy as she offered me a cup.

“Thank you.”

“Be careful; it’s hot. Sip it slowly.”

“Yes.”

I accepted the steaming cup and gently blew on it to cool down, savoring the slightly lukewarm tea.

The taste was truly delightful.

“This is nice. Where did you get it?”

“I made it myself.”

“You made it, Camila?”

“Yep!”

“Wow….”

I was pleasantly surprised; I’d never expected Camila to possess such an impressive skill. Though I hadn’t seen her brew tea before, the taste was distinctly excellent.

I reclined on the sofa and took sips from the tea Camila made.

“This is really good.”

Camila beamed at my praise.

“Thanks! Hehe.”

“Did you have fun today? You seemed to fall in the water a lot.”

“Who fell in more than me? You were the one not keeping track of the waves!”

With a cheeky smile, Camila playfully teased me, revealing her mischievous side.

“Does that mean you’re not feeling unwell?”

“Yeah. I feel a bit tired, but I should be fine by tomorrow morning.”

“Is that so?”

I nodded while grinning.

“Then it’s time to start anew tomorrow.”

“Huh? With what?”

“Training.”

At that, Camila’s smile faltered. It seemed like she momentarily buffered, blinking rapidly as if processing the statement.

“…Excuse me?”

“We need to train. We’ve had enough relaxing time, and if we stop here, we won’t gain anything.”

“Weren’t we here to have fun? This is vacation!”

“The vacation is for me; you’re just here sneaking in.”

Camila’s face turned sullen as she wailed with disappointment. Instead of desperately trying to argue, she quickly adjusted to reality instead.

As she poked the unfortunate teacup with a cookie, she sulked deeper.

“What kind of training will we do?”

“Lots of things. Language skills, analysis, intelligence gathering, identifying handlers… and basic physical conditioning, among others.”

“Eww….”

The mention of physical training made Camila whine in protest.

“I can’t be expected to run around the beach, can I…?”

“Huh? You totally understood that from just half a sentence? That’s impressive… Have you done that before?”

“Kill me now…!”

Camila wailed, twisting her body in despair. I was already enjoying watching her squirm in agony.

Seeing her like this, it looked almost as if she’d crawl on the floor unless I soothed her.

“Don’t worry. We have other things to do too.”

“What else? What now…?!”

“Shooting practice.”

Camila shot up from her half-reclined position at the words “shooting practice.” The exhausted, gloomy look in her eyes vanished, replaced by wide, eager eyes gleaming with excitement, as she stared intently at me.

“Shooting?”

“Of course. As an information officer, knowing how to shoot is crucial.”

“Really…?”

“Absolutely.”

Instead of elaborating further, I nodded my head in affirmation.

After all, I needed to teach Camila about shooting eventually. The world is unpredictable, and relying solely on magic for combat wasn’t feasible given her current physical state.

So, I figured it was best to learn while we had the time to do so.

“Basic military training can wrap up in a month. if we skip over complex topics like specialties and formalities, we could just focus solely on shooting; it will be useful.”

“Is that really the case?”

“As long as you’ve got your gun license and some experience, it’d be much easier.”

But—

“Just remember that guns should only be used for defensive purposes. Ideally, we want to avoid putting ourselves in situations where we’d need to shoot in the first place. Just promise me…”

“Sure!”

Camila responded enthusiastically with a radiant smile. Well, at least her responses were on point.

As I gently shook my head and took a sip of my tea, Camila kept beaming, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

“Is that everything we’ll learn from tomorrow onward?”

“Actually, there’s one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“Upper-class culture.”

“Upper-class culture?”

Camila tilted her head in confusion, immersed in thought.

“Is it really necessary to learn that…?”

She questioned with a nuance reflecting a belief that understanding such things wouldn’t hinder her capacity as an intelligence officer.

I set my cup down and looked squarely at Camila.

“Camila. Do you know what cultural capital is?”

“Cultural capital? Is that the one from sociology?”

“Yes.”

Cultural capital is a concept proposed by the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu.

Without getting too complicated, here’s the gist of it:

“A person’s tastes and preferences are influenced by their social background, handed down from previous generations.”

If a mother listens to classical music, her child is bound to enjoy classical too; if a father loves wine, so does their offspring.

Children who watched operas with their grandparents will grow up to enjoy operas, while those who attended special exhibitions with their grandfathers will become well-versed in art as adults.

In short—”the very world they live in is different.”

So, if you look at England, the upper class enjoys cricket and horseback riding, while even the pronunciation and vocabulary differ despite the same language, and similar trends can be found throughout India, France, and even the Americas and Asia.

“Of course, the nuances of it have diluted significantly nowadays. With money, anyone can learn golf, and chess is accessible from a young age. Yet, many fields still remain untouched, such as opera or horse riding as hobbies.”

“Oh… I get what you’re saying. But wouldn’t fulfilling missions remain unaffected if I didn’t learn all that?”

“Camila, do you remember what I said earlier about conditions to win over agents when recruiting them? What did I mention?”

“Finding weaknesses, if they can access the required intelligence…”

“Individuals that intelligence agencies are targeting with the aim of recruiting are often from the upper class. They are people who are likely to possess relevant information and can access it. So what do you think—would these individuals belong to the upper class or the lower class?”

“…It’ll be the upper class.”

I nodded.

“That’s why you need to learn. That’s why chez the Intelligence Agency, diplomats heading abroad are often given opera tickets or trained in golf, horseback riding, and chess. Of course, some can manage without knowing these things. But knowing, when it’s not detrimental to your life, can prove beneficial.”

Though, it would be detrimental to my bank account. Nevertheless…

“The culture of the lower class isn’t entirely without use either. It has its own applications, too.”

“…What cultures are you speaking of?”

“For instance, crime organizations or drug cartels. If you’re aiming to manipulate lower-tier informants, it’s vital to understand the culture of those organizations.”

After my explanation, Camila seemed to accept it, nodding vigorously, indicating she understood. I truly appreciated her compliance.

As I tipped back the remaining tea in my cup, Camila, lost in thought as she cleaned up, blurted out a question.

“By the way, where would one learn about such upper-class hobbies?”

“I know a bit about simple upper-class customs, so I can teach you some. Riding horses might be a stretch, but…”

“Oh, I know how to ride horses!”

“…Excuse me?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’m a member of a riding club.”

……

I roughly had an inkling, but it seemed Camila had truly been born into a well-to-do family. A horse-riding club member? That sounded like something the bourgeoisie would say while exploiting the working class.

For a moment, my mind was reeling from the shock, but I renewed my relief that I had at least one less thing to teach her.

As I watched Camila tidy up her cup, she suddenly posed her question.

“Have you ever met anyone from the upper class?”

“Me? I’m nobility here.”

“No, I mean not in that context. It feels like you’re quite familiar with the cultural nuances of the upper class around Earth.”

Is that what she meant?

I handed her the empty cup while contemplating how to respond. When was the last time I actually met an upper-class person?

“Well… It’s been ages. I can’t recall any conversations, but I have seen them from a distance.”

“Who were they?”

“Uh, I can’t remember their name, but they were probably a deputy minister. The location was Caracas, and I was interacting with the North Korean ambassador.”

“Caracas? That’s in Venezuela?”

I nodded affirmatively.

“I was on a short-term mission, but I didn’t stay in Venezuela. Most of the time, I was in Bogotá and crossed the border whenever necessary.”

“Hmmm… Bogotá would be in Colombia….”

As Camila leaned back in contemplation with her eyes closed, she suddenly snapped them open wide.

“Wait a minute. Colombia and Venezuela? You were there?”

“Yes.”

“Those areas aren’t warzones, and there’s no presence of foreign troops. Even more, it’s a region quite distant from Asia…”

“…”

“You’re not from a special forces unit, are you…?”

“…I never said I was from a special operations unit. I merely noted it’s a similar unit.”

“Then which unit are you from? I mean, are you even an actual soldier?”

“I am a soldier. I served as an officer. I entered through the ROTC, and I didn’t initially intend to have a long military career; I just wanted to fund my tuition.”

“Which unit were you with?”

“……”

I hesitated as I wondered whether I should mention it. It’s been ages since I last spoke aloud the name of my unit, so I needed a moment to gather my thoughts. Revealing my identity wasn’t something I was accustomed to.

But my contemplation wasn’t overly prolonged.

“Camila.”

“Yes?”

“Have you heard of the Information Command?”