A Dark Fantasy Spy

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It felt like just a moment ago that I had dragged my tired body back home, and now the morning sunlight was sneaking in through the curtains, tickling my eyelids.

Crossing my arms, I tossed and turned, but I couldn’t find a comfortable position, so I finally got up from the sofa. My head was foggy, my legs ached, and my mouth felt dry while my stomach churned. Did I drink too much last night?

With a disheveled face, I lifted my head to survey my surroundings. A townhouse owned by my mother’s family in Abas City. In the kitchen, a tipped-over cup of water and a cheap whiskey bottle lay neglected, while the living room table was cluttered with a pile of ashtrays and crumpled cigarette packs. I was curled up on the sofa, buried under a blanket. Outside the window, it was dark. Was it still dawn?

Every time I blinked my dazed eyes, memories of yesterday’s carnage came rushing back.

I had been drinking with Camila, wandering around famous landmarks, and shopping with her at the department store before reuniting with our group. We must have hit up another bar and partied until dawn. I even forgot about my empty bank account…

How had I even gone to the department store with no money? The answer came in the form of a receipt crammed haphazardly in my wallet.

I had paid with a card.

“Alcohol is the real enemy…”

I muttered something that sounded like a sigh or a curse while scratching my head.

I had spent money again. I considered cutting up my credit card, but it was a meaningless act since the money was already gone.

Wondering if there were any other receipts, I rummaged through the messy table and found a nearly empty pack of cigarettes crumpled between a few items. I hesitated for a moment, seeing a cigarette after 28 years, then opened the door and lit one up as I stepped outside.

-Sizzle…!

It was a dark world.

As the glowing ember at the tip faded, the smoke mixed with a sigh and disappeared into the dark sky.

I sat on the ground, cigarette in my mouth, gazing at the road blanketed in darkness. After a while, I noticed the sky had turned a faint blue.

Then something landed on my nose.

I looked up at the intruder and saw the sky.

“…It’s snowing.”

Snow was falling from the painfully blue sky.

I welcomed the falling snow and began a new day.

Episode 10 – Turn North-Northwest

While on vacation, I was back home puffing away on cigarettes, and memories flooded back.

Was it Mexico or Colombia? I had once sat huddled in a run-down safe house with staff members, participating in a joint operation, sharing cigarettes.

In the 21st century, smoking indoors felt like a barbaric act that deserved a beating, but it was unavoidable since over ten people couldn’t keep going in and out just for one cigarette. We even worried about noise or light escaping, shutting the windows tight and drawing the curtains, so I can only imagine the hell for the non-smokers in the group.

I spent about three days waiting like that, but the first words from a certain high-ranking official who visited us still replay in my mind.

“Is this an opium den, you little brat?”

With a crisp sound, my head instinctively turned. The back of my head felt numb.

As I rubbed the painful spot and turned my head, I saw my sister in comfortable loungewear glaring at me.

“What’s your problem?”

It was Older Sister Adela.

“Why are you blowing smoke in the house? Have you lost your mind?”

“What? Why are you hitting me?”

“Just because.”

She nonchalantly whacked me in the back of the head.

“What if a fire breaks out? Are you going to put it out?”

“The ashtray is right here. I soaked a paper towel in water, so it won’t catch fire.”

“I swear!”

It seemed like she hadn’t fully woken up, as she grabbed my hair and started shaking me around. She mentioned she was under a lot of stress at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs these days, so I figured she must have finally lost her mind.

“Where did you learn to be such a brat? Not only did you get wasted at dawn, but now you’re toking up, huh?”

“Ah, let go. Let go!”

“How dare you talk back to me, sis?”

“What are you doing, slacking off without going to work…?!”

“I was on duty yesterday; today’s my day off, you brat.”

Since I had been on duty yesterday, I was off today. That’s why I hadn’t left the house even after eight.

As I attempted to shake free from my sister’s gorilla-like grip, I desperately called out for Brother Jerry, but he must have already left for work, as he was nowhere to be seen. That brother of mine is always absent when I need him.

In the end, I had no choice but to let my sister use me as a punching bag.

After shaking me by my hair, Adela didn’t seem satisfied; she grabbed a cigarette from between her fingers and threw it out the window.

“Ah, no…!”

“……”

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

Adela hurriedly shut the window, but the breeze blowing through the gap made my crumpled pack of cigarettes rustle softly.

I stared at the empty pack and the last cigarette that disappeared outside with a dazed expression.

“That was my last sail….”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

*

While every culture has its differences, media portrayals of intelligence agencies are often quite similar: gloomy and a bit insane.

In American movies or dramas, the CIA is portrayed as a dysfunctional group. They’re depicted as willing to kill their own agents, conducting biotests on their citizens, and generally act as a hidden puppet master pulling strings behind the scenes, which makes them seem like the ultimate villain.

British media isn’t much different. MI5 frequently utilizes illegal authority to spy on civilians and blackmail politicians, while MI6 seems to be forever fumbling about, with their headquarters exploding from incompetence.

Contrarily, portrayals of China and Russia tend to be more positive. Criticize the government there in media, and it’s likely that someone could disappear for ten days, so they try to focus on the positive aspects.

As for South Korea, we need not even mention it.

Former and current employees of the National Intelligence Service often contract killings through illegally obtained information or struggle to adapt to reality, running junk shops or pawnshops. Or sometimes they strut around like a suit man despite being completely irrelevant, or blatantly involve ordinary civilians in operations, among other things.

In any case, if a government agency in South Korea appears incompetent, corrupt, or foolish in the media, there’s a high chance it’s an intelligence agency.

While it’s hard to simply dismiss such images as mere fiction, given the accumulated sins of each country’s intelligence agencies, that hardly matters in this case.

Anyway.

Despite the cultural differences, media representations of intelligence agencies can generally be summarized as a collection of dysfunctional individuals living in a dark and twisted realm—at least in democratic countries.

All of this is nonsense.

“Hey, wake up.”

On the second Wednesday of my two-week vacation, while I was comfortably resting at home away from my group, Adela kicked me in the rear.

“What?”

“Go out and take out the trash.”

“…What?”

“Today is recycling day. Go throw it out and come back.”

“……”

I wanted to refuse my sister’s request, but looking at the liquor bottle in her hand made me get up from the sofa.

I dragged a blue trash can outside. Technically, the garbage collection vehicles should pass by every house to pick up trash, but due to overwhelming resident complaints, they now had to go all the way out to distant locations.

Ultimately, I found myself trudging through the thick snow in my shabby sweatpants, making the long round trip.

“Hey, I threw out the trash.”

“Oh, you’re back? Since you’re here, take this.”

“…What is it?”

“Can’t you see?”

Adela brazenly handed me a shovel and broom.

“I saw a lot of snow piled up earlier. Go clean up before it freezes.”

“…Do I have to shovel snow? Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you just went outside. Should I go instead? Just sweep the front yard and sidewalk.”

“……”

“Oh, and while you’re at it, pick up some groceries at the mart. I’ll give you the list and money.”

Then I found myself heading back outside to shovel snow.

Last night’s snow had piled up to my shins. I shoveled like a madman, even though it had been ages since I did any snow shoveling, not since my time as a squad leader. It felt terrible, honestly.

I grumbled as I furiously swept away the snow, only to turn around and see that more had piled up behind me.

With gritted teeth, I finally tossed down the shovel and broom and headed for the mart.

The mart Adela mentioned was an organic food store for middle-class people, a good twenty minutes away on foot. I wanted to take public transport, but seeing buses crawling through the snow like sluggish grubs made me think it was better to walk.

After about forty minutes of trudging through the snow, I finally reached the mart.

Dusting off the snow that had clung to my legs and shoes, I unfolded the crumpled note I had received, greeted by the security guard at the entrance. The tiny note was filled with round handwriting.

Pasta, bread, jalapeños, jam, paté, mandrake, crackers, green tea, black tea, coffee, coffee filters, magic batteries, dragon breath drinks (an energy drink type I had never seen before), canned goods, salmon, ready-made meals… The list seemed endless. I swear if I were to line it all up, it would reach Mars.

Amid this lengthy list, most items were food. The only people using this townhouse were Brother Jerry and Older Sister Adela, and Jerry didn’t eat at home due to his schedule. So all this food was for my sister. What a gorilla.

I pushed two carts around while shopping. I had intended to fit everything into one cart, but it just wouldn’t work, so I took another one. After the staff scanned one of them, I was asked, “Did you bring a car? Did you use the parking ticket?” The moment they learned I didn’t have a car and only needed a few bags, they looked at me with pity.

By the time I emerged from the mart, my arms were full of heavy groceries. Noticing that snow had piled up to my calves, it was evident that the record-breaking snowstorm they’d been predicting was indeed a reality.

The biting winter wind hit me hard. My hands felt as though they were stiffening in the cold.

Only yesterday, I had been eating and drinking with Camila and Francesca, recovering in a cozy hotel room under the care of Veronica and Lucia. I couldn’t fathom how I ended up in this predicament. Life…

I cursed the clueless version of myself from an hour ago for not bringing gloves, tightly gripping the bags and cautiously making my way home.

About halfway there, I stepped onto some ice.

“Whoa, whoa….”

-Crash!

An enormous shock jolted from my rear through my spine. The weighty bags swung around like hammers, causing me to brace myself on the ground with my elbow instead of my hand.

“Ahhhh!”

I lay flat on my back, clutching my elbow and screaming. I wasn’t sure if I had cracked a bone or not, but it felt like the wound from the hospital had reopened. My eyes instinctively squeezed shut from the pain.

Damn, that hurt like hell.

I rolled around for a while, massaging my elbow. Suddenly, the strange sensation in my palm made me cautiously open my eyes, and I saw the remnants of a torn plastic bag lying beside me.

Was it the impact from the fall that ripped it, or…? Many of the items I had just bought were rolling around in the snow.

Seeing that mess made a curse slip out from my tightly sealed lips.

“…Damn it.”

*

“Is that a snowman?”

As soon as I entered the house, Adela remarked this about my state.

“You’re covered in snow! Should I call you a snowman or Bigfoot?”

“Shut it.”

While my sister scampered away with the objects I had handed over, I shook off the snow clinging to my body at the entrance and followed her into the kitchen.

Adela had already found the black tea and was adding it into a bubbling kettle. How did she manage to dig that out from all the stuff?

“Hey, Bigfoot.”

“What?”

“Eat this.”

As she poured tea, she flashed a sly smile and held out a steaming pot. The smell indicated it was baked beans.

“You can dip the bread in it.”

“Is it toasted? When did you bake it?”

“It’s not fresh, just some leftover from before. There’s bread, but I bought bacon too; want me to fry that for you?”

I shook my head.

My sweat-soaked clothes were drenched to the point of being rigid. Even though I had changed into warm clothes, I still felt cold. After over an hour of trudging through the snow, I shivered as I devoured the lunch my sister made.

Adela clicked her tongue and handed me a mug filled with milky tea.

“Take your time eating, you brat.”

“Did you eat, sis?”

“I’m fine. I’m not particularly hungry.”

She yawned lazily, leaning back in her chair. It was an uncharacteristically undignified demeanor for her, yet imagining her admonishing junior diplomats out in public made me feel weirdly pleased.

“You look exhausted. Where’s Brother Jerry?”

“What? He’s obviously at the Ministry of Finance.”

“When did he leave for work? I didn’t see him at all.”

“He came by in the early morning, dozed off for a bit, and headed back to work shortly after.”

I absentmindedly slathered bread into the baked beans and munched away.

“Are you going back to work tomorrow?”

“Probably? But with this much snow, I’ll probably not make it in.”

Adela stirred her cup of tea, setting the spoon down as she continued, “Jerry and I took leave next week.”

“You took vacation?”

“Yeah. Since you finally got a vacation after three years, we should all visit Mom and Dad.”

Even though both the Ministry of Finance and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs are government institutions, taking a vacation is not easy due to the unspoken rules in public service.

Of course, even if Jerry and Adela could take vacation days, our parents rarely get to take leave. Being high-ranking officials is why.

Thus, it’s rare for us to have overlapping vacations as a family.

It looks like they took time off together just for me.

Adela added, “When does your vacation end? Next week works for you?”

“Probably. I have just under two weeks left.”

“Two weeks left, and you’re saying ‘probably’?”

“Ah, it’s the military. How would I know when something might happen?”

With an unimpressed look, my sister rested her chin on her hand. I guess my excuse didn’t hold water.

“Honestly, is it because of work at the Ministry of Defense?”

“Yeah.”

With that short answer, she shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s quite the workplace. Can’t even take a vacation when you want to.”

Adela turned her head sharply, clearly exasperated, while I finished the last bites of my lunch.

Honestly, working at an intelligence agency isn’t all that glamorous.

Are there handsome gentlemen living it up with beauties? Spending hundreds on a meal or a drink? Staying in hotels with beautiful vacation spots? An unshared job even their family is unaware of? If such a life exists, I want to experience it too.

Forget about beauties; if I were to date a foreigner and get caught, I’d be dragged into the Inspection Office. Meanwhile, the monthly spending limit for meals using operational funds is restricted, and rather than a relaxing vacation, I’ve spent months in a musty, damp, shabby basement room with smelly uncles. Working late is an everyday occurrence, and if I get bored, I find myself camping out in the wild. Moreover, not going home leads to strained relationships with family and friends.

Of course, my family knows I work in an intelligence agency. My mom and dad specifically don’t know I’m with the Military Intelligence Agency; my sister and brother do. I had a bad experience telling my mom I worked in the National Intelligence Service, so I deliberately kept it from her…

However, knowing doesn’t change a thing.

Seeing my sister argue with me over work illustrates perfectly how others might be feeling too. Maybe that’s why Clevenz hasn’t gotten married…

In the end, working at an intelligence agency doesn’t mean much. It’s just a company and a job.

“Ugh.”

Now that I was comfortable, a lot of thoughts crossed my mind. Why was I thinking about this while I was on vacation?

I hastily wrapped up lunch and leaped onto the sofa.

“Haah…”

The sofa was warm, presumably thanks to the heating being on.

I wriggled around on the sofa, and Adela joined me, bringing snacks and coffee to sit beside me. To be precise, she pushed my legs aside and sat in my spot.

“Don’t lie around like a bum; get outside for a bit. What a waste to be on vacation like this. Don’t you have any friends?”

“I mean, not really, but the outside is dangerous…”

“Not true at all.”

Adela laughed playfully, relaxing against the sofa. She seemed quite apologetic for her sharp remarks towards her brother, so I decided to humor her, propping my legs on top of her belly, only to stop after she punched me in my side.

We settled on maintaining our spots on the sofa and exchanging stories.

“By the way, you went down south, right? Did you drink with a girl? Did you have fun there?”

“I didn’t go to have fun; I went to work.”

“Work? What kind of work?”

“Um… just security work, I guess?”

Adela fixed me with a sad look, her face silently asking why I was working even on vacation.

“If you had security work from the intelligence department, that must mean you’re not your typical person. All done now, right? How long are you staying here?”

“Not exactly; I’m currently assigned to foreign affairs for ceremonial duties. Unless I receive a separate call, I’m just on standby at home.”

“You’re not jiving with foreign affairs—aren’t they in charge of foreign dignitaries? Why wouldn’t I know about this?”

“It’s normal not to know. It’s an unofficial visit. Don’t go mentioning this anywhere, sis. If word got out, a few people would have a problem…”

I switched the topic as I continued.

“Speaking of that terrorist incident, has the Ministry of Foreign Affairs said anything?”

“It seems it was a terrorist act by a national of a no man’s land. I heard that from the security-focused diplomats. Other countries sent condolences and statements from their leaders, but that’s more of a formal courtesy for significant disasters.”

“What are the Empire and the Cult saying about it?”

“I’m not sure about the Cult, but the Empire sent condolence messages from the Chancellor. Typically, those come from the Emperor…”

“If it’s internal affairs, that’s fine, but since the military and foreign affairs are heavily involved, the royal family mostly intervenes. But the Chancellor sent condolences?”

“Yeah. It’s not unusual to get diplomatic notes from the Chancellor, but it’s surprising the royal family didn’t react at all to such an event. The Emperor has hardly been active in foreign affairs for the past few years, and many in foreign affairs find it odd.”

Adela continued speaking.

“By the way, how have you been? Mom and Dad have been worried sick since we haven’t heard from you in three years. So, do you have anyone in your life?”

“Dating?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Having no one to meet while on vacation? What the heck are you doing instead?”

“I’m just working. I’m swamped.”

“Bragging, huh? There are many events at the end of the year; you should go out while on vacation. Maybe you’ll find someone nice.”

“Speaking of you, sis, aren’t you getting married? Last time I went on leave and received a medal, you were bragging about having a boyfriend. Wasn’t I on a mission that day?”

“I broke up.”

“How long was it?”

“A week.”

“…Dumb.”

A punch struck my side, sharper than the winter chill outside. If I dared to provoke her further, I would be in for another beating like in the old days, so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

Nursing my sore side, I noticed Adela had turned on the TV and was pointing to the weather forecast.

“Hey, it’s supposed to get colder tomorrow. Do you have any winter clothes?”

“Uh… probably not. I should buy some.”

“Then let’s go to the department store tomorrow.”

“I’m not really up for the department store…”

The thought of that place left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. I recalled my unpleasant experience there, and the pain in my newly grown thumb pulsed, bringing up some unwelcome memories.

“From now on, don’t mention the department store in our house.”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?”

-Ding ding ding!

The doorbell rang. A phone call.

Adela quickly removed the blanket she had unwittingly taken from me and dashed to answer the phone.

“Yes, hello. Yes?”

“What’s the call about?”

She asked with a confused expression as she handed me the receiver.

“It’s some magazine company looking for you?”

“A magazine?”

“Yeah.”

Did my subscription cancellation trigger this? I had canceled many subscriptions, including magazines.

I tilted my head in confusion and took the call.

“Hello?”

-‘Hello, this is House of Luxury and Lifestyle. Have you used any of our products recently?’

“…….”

I didn’t say a word. I could hear Adela saying something beside me, but it didn’t register.

After standing there for a while, I finally spoke, “Ah, yes. I’ve used them.”

-‘Yes, customer. You canceled your subscription, correct?’

“Yes.”

-‘Actually, we’d like to hear the reason for your cancellation, and we sent a survey to your home. If you’re willing, could you respond to it now?’

“Yes, I can do that right away.”

-‘Great! Please head to the mailbox and collect it.’

With that, the call ended.

I hung up the receiver and slipped on the coat hanging by the wall.

Adela looked apprehensively at me, “What’s wrong?”

“A magazine company is looking for me. I’m just stepping out, so you stay inside.”

“A magazine company?”

“Yeah.”

Just as I was about to step out, Adela’s voice followed me.

“…How did they get this number?”

I adjusted my collar and walked into the howling wind toward the mailbox. The bright red mailbox was buried under a thick blanket of snow, making it tough to spot its original shape.

Quickly scanning the area to ensure no one was watching, I finally pulled out a brown envelope from the mailbox.

I took it to the backyard.

In a spot enclosed by a fence and foliage where no one could see, I gingerly brushed off the snow covering the table before flipping over the envelope to check its contents.

Inside were a car key, a notebook wrapped in plastic, and a heavy black leather case.

“If they wanted to return the car, they could have just left it at the front door….”

I shoved the notebook and leather case into my pockets and set out to find the vehicle matching the key.

It was a company call.