A Dark Fantasy Spy

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In a den without a tiger, the fox takes the role of the king.

This idiom carries many meanings.

When there is no high-ranking person around, an insignificant person might strut around, and such a person can easily become a tyrant the moment they wear even a tiny badge of authority.

A person’s true worth becomes apparent the moment they grasp power. It could be an unbloomed talent or a hidden nature disguised behind a mask.

Therefore, one must always be aware of their place.

Clothes that don’t fit the body or shoes that don’t fit the feet are burdens that cannot be borne.

Yet, what people often misunderstand is that no matter how much a fox tries to draw lines on its face, it will always be just a fox and can never become a tiger.

Never.

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician in History

In the northern regions of the Kien Empire, a conflict akin to war is raging.

Many nations have united to confront the demonic creatures and monsters that have flooded the frozen land.

The spearhead of the northern conflict is undeniably the Imperial Army of Kien. The Empire, which has been in conflict with the sorcerers for centuries, declared martial law in the north, granting numerous powers to the military.

Thus, it is not the Inquisition of the Cult nor the magical forces of the Magic Tower that leads the northern conflict, but the Imperial Ministry of Defense of the Kien Empire.

Among them, it is the Military Government Headquarters that assumes the role of the martial law command.

I sought out the head of the Military Government Headquarters.

“Commander Mikhail, a visitor has arrived. Colonel Frederick Nostrim, the Defense Attaché of the Home Country.”

With a poised knock, the uniformed secretary announced my visit, and after a brief pause, a voice replied from within.

“You may enter, Colonel Nostrim.”

“Спасибо (Thank you).”

Stepping through the door the secretary opened, I noticed that the office was smaller than I had anticipated.

The office felt much more cramped than the last time I saw it.

Whether it was due to the stack of documents waiting for approval in one corner or the actual size of the room, it seemed quite cozy for a place where a general might reside.

I turned my head to inspect the office’s interior.

Executives holding files with neatly gathered hands, and behind them, an expanse of unapproved documents. Outside the small window in the office, the gloomy northern sky could be seen.

And there sat the general at his desk, scribbling with a pen, his back turned to the northern skies.

I set down my briefcase and greeted the general.

“Здравствуйте, Командир Михаи́л (Hello, Commander Mikhail).”

The old man’s gaze lingered on me briefly.

After a two-second silence of staring, Commander Mikhail suddenly spoke.

“Рад встрече, Фредерик военный атташе (Nice to meet you, Colonel Frederick).”

He glanced sideways at the Imperial Army executives.

“You all may step outside. I have something to discuss.”

—

It’s already been five days since the magicians of the Magic Tower, disguised as ordinary citizens, stepped into the black market.

To exert pressure on Hormoz, the magicians attempted to remove the boulders embedded in their path, only to ironically find themselves in a bind due to smaller pebbles rather than the largest stones.

Threats, extortion, robbery, and assault…

The magicians from the Magic Tower were warmly welcomed by the northern criminal organizations (calling them mere “piranhas” is an understatement). Most encounters ended in intimidation and extortion, but now criminals wielding violence are gradually making an appearance.

From my experience, it’s best to nip these nuisances in the bud before they bloom.

Right now, they may just seem like run-of-the-mill thugs loitering in alleyways, but later, they could evolve into well-organized international crime syndicates with unity and hierarchy.

However, I lack the authority to eradicate criminal organizations in the north. This isn’t Abas; it’s Kien.

But I know someone who does have the power to crack down on those criminals.

Commander Mikhail pointed silently at the horizontal table that occupied a corner of the office. It was an invitation to sit down.

I moved over and took a seat, while Commander Mikhail settled in the chair of authority.

“It’s been a while, Colonel Frederick.”

Commander Mikhail, seated at the head, greeted me in a low, level voice, his words fluent in Abbasian.

His accent carried hints of Kienian, but even so, his ability to converse in Abbasian was quite impressive. That’s what the military intelligence’s internal evaluation report had noted.

For the record, Lieutenant Senior Lyudmila, who was responsible for Kienian translation, was not permitted to attend this meeting. Perhaps Commander Mikhail chose to speak in Abbasian to accommodate me.

Feigning surprise, I responded in Abbasian.

“It’s a pleasure, Commander. I didn’t know you could speak Abbasian.”

“I can manage a bit.”

Shrugging off my compliment with a brief reply, Commander Mikhail opened his mouth in a monotone voice.

“Tea? Coffee?”

“I’ll have tea, please.”

He picked up the receiver and instructed his secretary to bring two cups of tea. When asked what type of tea to serve, I replied that anything would be fine, leading him to order black tea.

As the refreshments brought by the secretary were placed on the table, Commander Mikhail returned to the table and began the meeting with an official tone.

“I’ve received a report from my secretary. You requested a meeting with me.”

“That’s correct, Commander.”

“What brings you here?”

Such a straightforward approach!

After receiving news from Francesca regarding clashes with local minor criminal organizations, I promptly contacted the Military Government Headquarters and set up an appointment with Commander Mikhail.

Even as a colleague of Camila and a foreign diplomat, I couldn’t burst in on someone of Commander Mikhail’s stature without an appointment.

Fortunately, Commander Mikhail accepted my request without any objection.

“…….”

Reflecting on the time I had visited the Military Government Headquarters, it wasn’t surprising that he accepted so readily under the requests of Lucia and Francesca without any inquiries or conditions.

I couldn’t yet discern if he was simply magnanimous or casual in all matters, but it was evident that Commander Mikhail was not the type of rigid, inflexible traditionalist. Therefore, I expected he wouldn’t reject my request for a meeting.

However, it was somewhat bewildering that he jumped straight into the main point without even the customary greetings.

From my experience, there are typically two types of people who skip small talk and dive right into the main topic.

First, those who find small talk tedious or are too busy to engage in lengthy conversations.

Second, those who purposely create an authoritative atmosphere to seize control of the dialogue.

Most people I’ve encountered belonged to the latter category, especially those in high positions like Mikhail, leading subordinates.

Which category did Mikhail belong to?

While I wasn’t entirely sure yet, I decided to slowly find out.

“I have a request, which is why I’m here.”

“You have something to ask of me?”

“To be precise, it’s more of a request than a plea.”

The distinction between a request and a plea lies in whether it’s an absolute necessity.

It may seem subtle, but diplomats must tread carefully with their words, for the stakes are high; thus, I explained to Commander Mikhail with a clear tone.

“Currently, due to some unfortunate incidents occurring in the northern regions of the Kien Empire, there is significant concern among those around us. Hence, I urgently request matters that can only be addressed by you, Commander Mikhail, who has jurisdiction over the North.”

Commander Mikhail inquired, “And by those around, whom exactly do you mean?”

“Saint Lucia and Administrator Raniere.”

At the mention of Lucia and Francesca’s names, Commander Mikhail averted his gaze as if deep in thought, stroking his chin.

Despite wielding the administrative and judicial authority over the entire North, neither the saint of the Cult nor the senior executive of the Magic Tower could be approached easily, even by Mikhail himself. Even if those two were significantly younger than him.

After a moment of silence, Commander Mikhail set his arm on the armrest, breaking free from his contemplation. He nodded subtly, suggesting I continue.

At this point, I decided to cut to the chase.

“Commander Mikhail.”

In return, I launched directly into the main topic, just as he had.

“I request the deployment of military forces to eradicate the criminal organizations disturbing the order in the North.”

—

Commander’s expression hardened at my request to mobilize troops.

While Commander Mikhail’s pronunciation showcased a pronounced Kienian accent, he spoke fluently in Abbasian.

“…You ask me to deploy troops to eradicate criminal organizations.”

“…….”

“Is that a statement made in your capacity as a diplomat or as a soldier?”

At first glance, it seemed like a question, yet it was decidedly not.

A diplomat is an official who represents their country in foreign lands and engages in diplomatic tasks. A soldier is an official who employs force to protect the nation from external threats.

What’s crucial is not “what role they occupy,” but rather “from where their qualifications derive.”

A diplomat can only fulfill diplomatic duties with the permission of their government. More precisely, the country that dispatches a diplomat designates that person, and the host country grants the diplomat permission to reside there.

The same goes for soldiers and the physical force they wield. To protect the nation from invasion, the government necessarily cultivates a regular army prepared for conflicts, and international society recognizes the right to engage in hostilities.

Therefore, both diplomats and soldiers are fundamentally individuals who conduct their activities with recognition from their own country as well as a foreign government.

That’s why a person engaging in diplomacy without being a recognized diplomat would be regarded as a fraud, and a soldier fighting without the right to engage in hostilities would be considered a terrorist.

In summary,

“Regardless of the angle from which you speak, that statement can be interpreted as interference in domestic affairs.”

Requesting Commander Mikhail to deploy military forces to wipe out criminal organizations could indeed be construed as interference.

I am an Abbasian soldier and diplomat, not a soldier of the Kien Empire.

However,

“It seems there has been a misunderstanding.”

I flashed an awkward smile that conveyed that I had no such intention.

“I have no intention of using my status as a Colonel to interfere with the internal issues of the Kien Empire or to overstep my bounds with you, Commander Mikhail. I don’t even have the authority to do that.”

“…….”

“I merely wish to express my concerns regarding the unscrupulous actions of the criminals who are disrupting order in the North and putting civilians at risk.”

Commander Mikhail spoke, “Is this why you requested this meeting, to demand the capture of those criminals? Is that the message?”

“I deemed the situation serious enough to warrant such a request.”

I took a moment to catch my breath before launching into my explanation.

“As you well know, with martial law in effect, the Military Government Headquarters has received the administrative and judicial authority over the areas where it is enforced. Hence, the jurisdiction and justice in the North, where you and I sit, lie with the Military Government Headquarters.”

Commander Mikhail gave a slight nod.

“In special situations, special rules must apply. The Imperial Government assessed that the nation was in a state of emergency due to the invasion of demons and monsters, finding that local government and police alone could not maintain daily order and security in the North, prompting the declaration of martial law.”

In short,

“In such unique circumstances, maintaining order becomes the responsibility of the Military Government Headquarters.”

My argument was simple.

First, the Imperial Government concluded that the police and internal forces had lost their ability to ensure order in the North, including social safety frameworks.

Second, the Imperial Government declared martial law, and the Military Government Headquarters has gradually taken on administrative and judicial powers over the years. It’s worth noting that while the local government nominally holds those powers, the real authority rests with the Duchess, who is the aunt of the current Emperor Nikolai VI.

Third, the Imperial Government deemed that neither the police, internal forces, nor even the Archmage, Duke, has the capability to stabilize the North and, therefore, declared martial law and established the Military Government Headquarters; thus, maintaining order on the ground is naturally the responsibility of the Military Government Headquarters.

And the commander of that Headquarters is Commander Mikhail, who sits before me.

“Restoring order in this area is what you are obliged to do as the commander, in my view.”

So hurry up and mobilize the troops to apprehend those criminals. After all, saints and administrators are expressing concerns, so what is there to hesitate about? I sweetly worded this sentiment.

Commander Mikhail responded, “Colonel, how long have you been in the North?”

It was an exceedingly mundane and standard tone. It was so out of the blue that I was momentarily taken aback.

“I’ve been here for about a month.”

“I’ve been in the North for five years.”

“…….”

“Before taking office as Commander, I served as the division commander of the 138th Guards Mechanized Infantry Division and then as the corps commander of the 43rd Corps before becoming the commander of the Military Government Headquarters here.”

The general remarked.

“What you may not know is that spending time here will inevitably teach you things you do not wish to know.”

Famine, disaster.

Food shortages, soil contamination, crippled transportation networks, rear assaults.

Epidemics, quarantines, commander casualties, sudden demonic invasions.

Natural disasters, overwhelming numbers of patients, an influx of refugees.

Sabotaged railroads, uprisings in rear areas.

Followed by the military police and internal forces’ live-fire confrontations.

And recently, incidents of monster rifts and murder cases surrounding various nations.

Though Commander Mikhail chose to remain silent, I could read many stories from his silence.

The Military Government Headquarters must manage a territory that rivals, if not surpasses, that of decent nations as it executes military operations. And the successes and failures stemming from that responsibility rest squarely on the shoulders of the Military Government Commander.

Subsequently, Mikhail spoke, his expression composed.

“I am not shirking my responsibilities or obligations. However, I cannot afford to deploy a large number of troops to deal with common ruffians causing trouble merely at my doorstep.”

“Why not?”

“Much of the internal forces have either been deployed to the front lines or are scheduled to be. The police and military focus on upholding order in the cities, but given the influx of refugees, we are barely managing to maintain order. I simply do not have the resources to spare.”

The number of civilians the police and military must oversee has become overwhelmingly large, rendering the situation untenable. Maintaining order at even a minimal level necessitates manpower, meaning that operations to eradicate criminal organizations in the North would be out of the question.

Under normal circumstances, anyway.

“Eradicating all criminal organizations is impossible. Regrettably, that is the reality.”

At Commander Mikhail’s words, I added one question without hesitation.

“Is the military under your command an occupying force or a martial law army?”

Commander’s gaze locked onto mine.

“You are not a governor or the commander of an occupation force managing foreign territory; you are the commander of martial law. This here, where Commander Mikhail stands, is not occupied land but imperial territory.”

I produced a document I had brought with me into the office and placed it on the table.

It was a can of peaches.

Placing the can of peaches on the desk, I settled into a comfortable posture, making eye contact with Commander Mikhail.

“This can was produced by an imperial company on imperial territory. Typically, you’d spend around three takron to acquire this at a market or store. Do you know how much this sells for in the North?”

“Not really. I’m not sure.”

“Sixty takron.”

I rolled the can of peaches over with my hand. Thump, thump. With a loud noise, the can rolled a few centimeters, only to come to an abrupt halt after catching on a rock.

Understandably so, as the can was dented. A smooth, round can wouldn’t roll.

“It’s normal to discard a dented can, but in the North, it’s sold at thirty times its price, and it’s a past-its-prime item that people are still buying.”

Having frequented the black market in the North under the guise of monitoring and investigating, I could categorically state that the black market could aptly be described as the North’s trash dump.

Not metaphorically, but it genuinely felt like a trash dump.

“Poisonous brews made from toxic plants and fake cigarettes stuffed with tea leaves have made their way to market. It could even be that what is deemed tea leaves are actually hemp.”

I continued, “A single stick of fake cigarettes was priced at 250 takron. In a conflict area, no matter how expensive tobacco and alcohol may be, charging that much for a single stick is absurd. Moreover, the scent strangely resembled something akin to hemp.”

What’s critical is that the distribution of suspect fake cigarettes, toxic brews, and dented cans is happening.

The very fact that such items circulate in the black market indicates that many citizens in the North are looking for ways to get by, and the group failing to manage and oversee this mess is none other than the Military Government Headquarters.

And that group is led by Mikhail.

“Commander Mikhail.”

I poked the horizontal table with my finger.

“This isn’t some distant continent in Mauritania or a far-off Eastern country. This is the reality happening right here, in the North, where we are.”

“…….”

“So, if you’re not a commander of an occupying force, then you should know better than anyone what you ought to do.”

Commander Mikhail asked.

In his still monotonous, flat tone, he inquired.

“What do you think I should do?”

I gently closed my eyes and muttered in a calm voice.

“Honestly… Even I think it’s unrealistic to wipe out all the criminal organizations in the North. After all, the land here is known for being larger than Kien’s eastern regions, famed for its vast agricultural fields.”

“But?”

“Instead,” I pointed to specific targets.

“Is it not feasible to capture and punish a few of them?”

“…….”

“If it’s a small-scale apprehension operation, a significant troop deployment wouldn’t be necessary. The police and military burden would relatively lighten. And of course, order would improve as well.”

Commander Mikhail continued to stare blankly into the void with an impassive expression on his face.

However, I could noticed his head ever so slightly nodding up and down.

With that, I concluded with a calm smile.

“It would serve as a good example.”