A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

The woman who called today was a civil servant from the Secretariat working in the delegation.

Gabi Schneider.

A civil servant of the International Division under the Secretariat, which is in charge of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Francesca recited information about this woman.

“Gabi Schneider. A magician from Hamelin. She has served as a diplomat on the Mauritania Continent for five years before moving to the Secretariat. Her major is Necromancy.”

“Necromancy? Not a popular field, I see.”

“That’s right.”

“And what is her relation to Jean Marbo, who has gone missing?”

“I understand they were in a romantic relationship.”

Jean Marbo is also a civil servant of the Secretariat, just like Gabi Schneider. They were in a romantic relationship.

“I don’t know them personally, but the rumor is they had been together for quite a while. They started dating while working together on the Mauritania Continent, and they applied for the northern dispatch together.”

And then Jean Marbo went missing.

“An effort to find her missing lover, I suppose.”

It’s quite a touching story, but that’s all there is to it. There are just too many pressing issues to be concerned with just one person, Marbo.

There are more than five cities currently under attack in the north. The number of casualties isn’t even being properly counted, and if they do count, there are doubts they will even announce it. Let alone the missing persons.

The death of one great man can plunge a million into sorrow, but the death of a million ordinary people barely stirs a single heart. In that light, the disappearance of Jean Marbo is just one of many tragedies.

Too many have died.

There are so many immediate matters to deal with, is the disappearance of a target the company ordered to be investigated really worth looking into?

Of course it is.

Just, it falls behind in priority.

“Ah… But I still have to report…”

With a mindset of inevitability, I followed Francesca’s lead. Or at least, I was about to.

What stopped me as I trudged across the lobby was,

A phrase from Francesca that resonated from behind.

“Jean Marbo disappeared that day. The day the Colonel fought alongside Saint Lucia against the demons and necromancers.”

The priorities have changed.

—

Episode 13 – A Country for Magicians Does Not Exist

—

The address captured on my mobile phone was in a city near the capital of Patalia. It took exactly 32 minutes to arrive after passing through the Warp Gate.

Upon arriving at the address, I was greeted by a beautiful alley. Quaint, low buildings clustered together, and cobblestone streets reminiscent of old European towns could be seen in various places.

As I walked along the sparsely populated alley for a while, a small, cozy cafe appeared, nestled in a secluded corner. It was a typical cafe where one could enjoy a cup of coffee while taking in the surrounding scenery from the outdoor terrace.

There, we faced a weeping magician.

“Miss Schneider?”

The magician recognized Francesca and started to tear up.

“…Lady Ranieri.”

“Oh my, what happened?”

As an atmosphere threatening to break into tears enveloped us, Francesca appeared quite flustered.

While watching the magician sobbing into the handkerchief, she approached Gabi Schneider and pulled something from her bosom.

It was a handkerchief.

“Don’t cry.”

“Waaah…”

“Calm down, Miss Schneider. Why don’t you sit here for a moment?”

The Secretariat employee, clutching the handkerchief with both hands, nodded repeatedly. As Francesca carefully sat her down on the chair, Gabi’s tears dropped down her cheeks like raindrops.

I was about to suggest bringing over some drinks when I turned to Francesca.

“I’ll go get some drinks.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

It seems like this conversation might take a while. At this rate, we won’t even be able to interrogate her, let alone communicate.

I stepped into the cafe and ordered three drinks. While the owner scribbled the menu on a notepad and went to make the drinks, I turned my head to slowly look around the cafe’s interior and exterior.

Firstly, the outside.

The cafe was located in a secluded alley.

Even in broad daylight, with the exception of some older residents passing by, there didn’t seem to be any other customers around, indicating it likely wasn’t a tourist spot like Galbria.

The alley was narrow enough that only two cars could barely squeeze through at the same time. The road itself was wide, but illegal parking crammed it down.

Cars were lined up on both sides of the cafe entrance, with a few sedans and a van parked across the street.

Though I couldn’t see inside the van due to distance, I could identify a man seated in the passenger seat. He had his face obscured by a hat and appeared to be sleeping, and from the back of the van, smoke was rising, suggesting a passenger had exited the vehicle for a smoke.

“……”

Next was the interior. There wasn’t much of note.

Being a small neighborhood cafe with limited clientele, there were very few customers present.

One man sitting in a corner of the terrace was texting on his phone, while three women chatted at a table, and two academy students were buried in their books, diligently scribbling notes. Including the cafe owner, only six people lingered in this place.

Just as I was about to check for any rear exit, the bustling owner called out with a bright smile.

“Your coffee is ready!”

“Oh, thank you!”

Naturally, I carried the three cups on a tray back to the terrace. Gabi Schneider was still using her handkerchief to wipe away her tears, while Francesca was gently patting her back in the chair to comfort her.

I placed a cup in front of each of our seats and took a spot beside Francesca, directly facing Gabi Schneider.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Gabi Schneider. I’m Colonel Frederick Nostrim from Abas.”

“…Oh.”

“I’ve heard from Francesca that you might need assistance, so I came to see if I could help.”

As Gabi Schneider, who had been weeping like a broken faucet, finally looked up and met my gaze, her rabbit-like eyes widened in surprise.

Bam! The table made a loud noise as it shook.

Gabi Schneider, recognizing me, suddenly stood up but bumped into the table, causing the uproar.

With the sudden commotion, all eyes in the cafe turned toward us.

The chatting women exchanged glances, wondering if a fight had broken out; the academy students startled, fidgeting and then returning their gaze to their books; the cafe owner peeked out, and the man at the terrace, who had been texting, cast a dry glance before returning focus to his phone.

I tried to calm down the startled Gabi Schneider.

“Are you surprised? It’s alright. I’m here to help.”

“Uh, how did you…?”

I explained to her the events of the last couple of days.

How I had come to Patalia on vacation, met Francesca, received an invitation to a special lecture from a professor at the Ivory Tower during a meal, and then quickly came here upon receiving her call.

As I recounted my experiences, Gabi Schneider bowed her head, looking stuck in an awkward position of guilt.

“I’m so sorry… I bothered you during your vacation…”

“There’s no need to apologize. I heard you were in the north too. I happened to be there as well, so wouldn’t it make sense that we would cross paths? It’s only right to offer my assistance.”

I said this with a lighthearted tone.

And for good measure, I turned my gaze to Francesca, who was sitting beside me.

“Especially since you’re a colleague of Francesca’s, I should definitely help.”

If a complete stranger suddenly offered assistance to someone in distress, anyone would hesitate to accept help. But if you say, ‘I heard from a friend,’ people are often more willing to accept that assistance.

A guarantee isn’t something that’s only provided for loans.

I boldly traded on Francesca’s name, and the result was successful.

Gabi Schneider nodded repeatedly, suppressing tears that threatened to burst forth, thanking me with a quivering voice.

Before we delved into the main conversation, I pushed a warm cup of coffee toward her.

“I’ve heard the basics. You mentioned that Jean Marbo has gone missing?”

“Yes…”

“Francesca mentioned that he was part of the Secretariat as well and was dispatched to the north.”

“Y-Yes…”

“Good.”

I pulled out a notebook and pen from my pocket and placed them on the table. Simultaneously, pretending to search for a lost item, I slipped my hand back into my pocket to press the recording device’s button.

-Click.

The faint sound of the recording device began.

With everything set, I clasped my hands together, resting them on the table, and opened my mouth.

“Then could you please tell me what specifically happened from your perspective?”

—

The interrogation in the guise of conversation began. With the recording device gently whirring away in my pocket, I threw questions at Gabi Schneider.

“So Jean Marbo has gone missing, you say?”

“Yes…”

“Hmmm… Before his disappearance, where did you last see him?”

She answered in a trembling voice.

“Ah, at the hotel. In the bar of the lodging provided by the Empire…”

“At the hotel room.”

Jean Marbo’s last known location before going missing was indeed the hotel. This was the lodging assigned by the Military Government Headquarters for our group, including those from the Magic Tower and the cult.

“Did you personally see Marbo right before he went missing?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I saw him myself. We even talked…”

“Could you please provide specifics about that situation? What was the atmosphere like, what did you talk about, and how did Marbo react?”

Gabi Schneider’s mouth shut tight. She seemed to be in deep contemplation, her eyes shifting this way and that.

She appeared hesitant to speak.

It resembled a defense mechanism. It seemed like there was something she was hiding. After all, Gabi Schneider and Jean Marbo were both targets that company ordered to be investigated.

And Jean Marbo disappeared on the very day a battle against the necromancers broke out.

“Miss Schneider?”

Francesca, sitting beside the Secretariat employee, gently called her name.

Just then, Gabi Schneider, who had been avoiding eye contact, finally looked towards Francesca.

“Are you alright?”

“L-Lady Ranieri…”

“There’s nothing to be scared of. We’re here to help. Could you explain what happened then?”

“……”

Gabi Schneider’s eyes were shifting frantically, as if an earthquake had struck. Unable to conceal her anxiety, she fidgeted and took a sip of her coffee to calm her nerves.

It appeared that drinking the warm beverage helped ease her tension somewhat.

Torn between whether to speak or remain silent, she seemed to reach a resolution, swallowing her tears and opening her mouth.

“On that day, I fought with Marbo…”

“So there was some conflict within your team?”

“N-No! It wasn’t like that… It was just that our opinions didn’t align…”

“What opinions are you referring to?”

“Uh, that’s…”

Stammering as she flitted about, she wiped her face with her hand.

“It was a matter between Marbo and me… We were dating after all.”

Gabi Schneider explained what had transpired that day as a romantic dispute. I took notes, summarizing the conversation, depicting her gestures and behavior in my notebook.

“Was it an argument between lovers?”

“Yes…”

Her testimony went like this.

As tensions heightened with the pressure of having come to a conflict area and the excessive workload of the Secretariat, compounded with the series of incidents shaking the northern regions, Gabi Schneider was becoming increasingly stressed for personal reasons.

She was suffering from stress-related ailments, including insomnia, and during this time, she approached her then-boyfriend, Jean Marbo, to explain her condition and made a request.

“I told him it might be best if I took a short trip back to the Magic Tower.”

“To the Magic Tower?”

“Yes. Work was too difficult… It was my first time in a war zone and quite frightening… The other things I could manage, but seeing people die around me was too terrifying for me, so I thought just a brief vacation would help.”

“What did Marbo say in response?”

Gabi Schneider answered.

“He got angry.”

Jean Marbo had become angry at his lover’s request. Initially, he had told her not to say such things, that he would stay by her side and ensure she could rest, but as Gabi Schneider kept bringing up the idea of returning to the Magic Tower, he became irate.

As I documented her words, I suddenly asked a question.

“Could you elaborate on the circumstances surrounding Marbo’s anger? Understanding why he became angry could help us provide assistance.”

“W-Well, the reason he got angry was…”

Just when Gabi Schneider was about to continue her testimony, she abruptly halted.

As if overwhelmed by her emotions, she hung her head and fell silent for a while, stifling her tears.

“Honestly, I’m not quite sure… Was it his sense of responsibility, maybe…?”

“What do you mean by that, Schneider?”

“I think he felt that while everyone was suffering, he couldn’t just be comfortable. If someone needed to do something, then it had to be him….”

Hmm.

From what I hear, Jean Marbo seems to have possessed a strong sense of responsibility. Or perhaps it was merely a sense of duty.

However, the aspect that raises my suspicion is that he went missing on the very day he encountered the necromancers.

Responsibility. Duty. Pressure.

As I scribbled down these keywords next to her statements, I asked Gabi Schneider again.

“What happened after that?”

“Well, Jean got angry at me, and I shouted back at him.”

Right after Jean Marbo had gotten angry, the two began to yell at each other. In an emotionally charged atmosphere, they started digging up all the past grievances and painful moments between them.

As is the case with emotional spats, they threw everything at each other without filter.

Jean Marbo yelled at Gabi Schneider, saying, “Stop being so self-centered,” and “Stop talking like a coward.”

Then Gabi Schneider said,

“I, I told him to go die…”

“……”

“What I said wasn’t serious! I just wanted him to disappear from my sight for a moment, so I just spat out something!”

She started to weep like a fountain.

She laid her head on the table, shoulders heaving as she stifled her sobs. As the sound of a woman crying echoed in the quiet cafe, all eyes turned toward us.

The cafe owner wore a somewhat anxious expression as he looked our way, while the group of women and students began murmuring, assuming it was some love triangle drama.

Meanwhile, the man seated at the far end of the terrace continued to mind his own business, scrolling on his phone without any interest.

Gabi Schneider’s hands turned pale as she gripped the handkerchief too tightly. The handkerchief was already soaked through with tears and had transformed into a dishrag.

With no signs of calming down in sight, I quietly began to close my notebook and stood up.

“It seems I should take a break for a while.”

“You should.”

I made my way towards the restroom. Francesca stayed back to comfort Gabi Schneider, who was sobbing uncontrollably, saying she would go fetch some tissues.

She crossed the cafe towards the restroom, and after confirming that no one else was around, she appeared in front of me by leaning against a wall that obscured the terrace.

We glanced around to make sure there weren’t any onlookers before stealthily looking at the terrace where Gabi Schneider sat and began to converse.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a sad story.”

Francesca added,

“If it’s really true.”

With a concerned expression on her face while consoling the Secretariat employee, Francesca’s demeanor turned cold.

Though she often wears a blank expression, the change was apparent, making her expression seem even icier.

“Do you think that woman is lying?”

“At the very least, it doesn’t seem like she’s telling the truth. It looks like she’s either exaggerating or lying.”

Francesca cautiously crossed her arms, leaning against the wall.

“What do you think, Colonel?”

The truth is, my thoughts align closely with hers. Gabi Schneider wasn’t sharing the whole truth.

“She’s definitely lying. She hesitated throughout her testimony and seemed to be reflecting on something. No matter how I look at it, it doesn’t seem to me that she’s merely recalling memories. While it’s not solidified yet, it’s clear that she’s not just sharing the truth.”

I shrugged my shoulders slightly, adding,

“Still, the outburst she had towards Jean Marbo at the end seems genuine. Even though it seems like she concealed specific details about their conversation, at least she was honest about there having been an argument.”

“Could that too be a lie?”

“Well, who knows.”

I couldn’t say for certain. I’m not a fortune-teller.

However, based on my judgment, it seems like Gabi Schneider tried to harbor specific details during her testimony while lying about certain parts, but her claims about having an argument with Jean Marbo were told with clarity. At the very least, the fact that there was a quarrel is likely true.

I checked the time and looked at Francesca.

“I’ll go ahead and scout out the area. It will take some time for her to calm down. Once she seems calmer, let’s get her a warm drink. Something cold is a no-go.”

“Why specifically a warm drink?”

“When a person is in an extremely tense or emotional state, they tend to react strongly to external stimuli. That’s why investigators intentionally bring warm drinks during their first encounter with a suspect in an interrogation room. It subconsciously reinforces the idea that they are not there to harm them.”

“Won’t they sometimes serve cold water?”

“They do at times, but that’s not meant for drinking. It’s just a precaution in case things go south.”

That was just a joke, but it seemed Francesca didn’t quite catch on.

After seeing her tilt her head, looking bewildered, I sent her off and entered the restroom to check on the recording device. Given it’s a small recorder, it can only record around 20 minutes, so it would need to be changed periodically if the interrogation lasted longer.

Or should we just relocate to a hotel or something?

I paused my task and thought it over.

“…Hmm.”

I could ask the information officers currently stationed at the Patalia Embassy to convert a hotel room into an interrogation room.

It wouldn’t require a complicated setup, just a few listening devices and a couple of cameras.

After recording the discussions from a neighboring room, we could end the interrogation, let Gabi Schneider leave, and then simply collect the equipment to make our exit. The materials could then be sent to the company for further analysis.

Not a bad idea. I promptly set my plan into motion.

I took out the mobile phone provided by the embassy and searched for the emergency contacts stored in it. I figured if I asked them to call, they’d open a secure line for me.

As I began to press the keypad to draft a message, suddenly, a call came through.

“What now?”

Just as I was typing, the message window vanished, revealing an unknown number on the screen.

As it bore no name, I hesitated whether to answer it. But upon closer inspection, I discerned the caller’s true identity: it was Clevenz.

Having managed Clevenz’s business card for three years, I always recognized his personal mobile number.

I quickly surveyed my surroundings, locking the door of the restroom once I confirmed there was no one in the hallway.

“…Yes, hello?”

-‘Is that you?’

“Yes, it’s me, Sir.”

-‘I thought I’d call just to check in. Is it alright for a moment?”

—

“What’s the occasion for this sudden call?”

-‘Ah, since when do I need an occasion to call?’

“Well, that’s true.”

-‘Are you enjoying your vacation?’

I detected tiredness in his voice echoing through the line.

-‘Did the lecture go well?’

I must have unknowingly reported back. He nonchalantly asked about my impressions of the special lecture.

“It was a decent experience, even if I didn’t understand everything.”

-‘That’s still an experience. I’m relieved to hear you’re resting well. So where are you right now?’

I decided to respond honestly.

“I’m at a cafe near the capital of Patalia.”

-‘A cafe?’

“Yes. Just passing by with an acquaintance. But why do you suddenly ask about that?”

-‘…Hmm.’

“Sir?”

-‘It’s nothing. By the way, could you swing by the embassy to pick up something? Preferably with that acquaintance of yours.’

“…”

Suddenly being asked to head to the embassy left me momentarily speechless.

You want me to head to the embassy with Francesca? Out of the blue?

“Uh, Sir, may I ask what this is about?”

-‘Oh, is curiosity in your nature? Just go and you’ll find out.’

“What do you…?”

At that moment, the call suddenly cut off.

Initially, I thought Clevenz had ended the call, but then I wondered if I had accidentally pressed a button.

I tried to call back but realized I received no service.

“Huh?”

My phone had lost signal.

“What the hell? Why is this happening all of a sudden?”

I muttered, staring at the dead phone. I pressed the buttons in vain, attempting to dial again, even toggling the power, but it remained unresponsive.

Suddenly realizing something was amiss, I tried calling the fire station and police station. If there were any issues with the SIM card, at least emergency calls should still get through.

But neither the police nor fire services picked up.

“……”

In that moment, I sensed things were off. I burst out of the restroom, scanning the interior of the cafe.

“What on earth is going on?”

“I’m really sorry, but, guests! We can no longer continue our service today.”

“What do you mean suddenly kick us out? I haven’t even finished my coffee…”

Exiting, I found an absurd scene unfolding.

The owner, who had just been running the cafe normally, was forcefully evicting customers.

Taken aback by the sudden end of operations, the customers scrambled to gather their belongings as the owner ordered them out with stern resolve.

As I watched the gradually emptying cafe, I headed to the terrace to check on Francesca. She was comforting Gabi Schneider, who was still weeping.

“Ah, Colonel, do you have any tissues?”

“No, I don’t.”

Gabi Schneider continued to weep, and Francesca noted that the supply of tissues had run out completely.

“It seems the cafe has completely run out of tissues, no matter how much we search.”

“Find some toilet paper from the restroom. We need to grab something and leave quickly.”

As I pressed for us to exit the cafe, Francesca seemed to notice something odd. She said she would head to the restroom while I should take Gabi Schneider out first.

That was what I had planned to do.

“Come on, Schneider.”

“Sniff…”

“Let’s get out of here.”

As I guided her towards the entrance of the terrace, then—

-Vroom!

The van parked in the alley roared to life.

In a split second, the booming engine filled the alley as it sped towards the entrance of the outdoor terrace. The side doors of the van swung wide-open.

And then—

-Slam!

Someone forcefully shoved me from behind.

As I was guiding Gabi Schneider down the narrow stairs, I stumbled forward. Gabi, who was leaning on me, began to topple as well.

Thud! A dull thumping sound rang in my ears.

As I attempted to brace myself to get up, the cold sensation of cobblestones was replaced by a completely different touch.

Instead of the ground, my hand pressed against the underside of the vehicle. I lay half inside as I was being dragged into the van’s entrance.

Just as I tried to pull my body free away from the vehicle, two figures lunged at me.

“Get him!”

One of the men crouched inside the van caught my shoulder. He pulled with an impressive force.

Before I could resist enough to escape, another thug joined in.

I floundered like a fish out of water, desperately trying to elude being dragged back inside, but with both of them in unison, I was helplessly hauled into the darkened van.

They shoved me deep inside the hollow van’s interior, which had no back seats, before forcing me down with their combined weight.

“You bastards…!”

Trapped, I stared at the bleak inside of the van. The two thugs had thoroughly subdued both me and Gabi Schneider.

The one who’d earlier been in the van climbed in, joining the two. He slammed the door shut behind him and patted the driver’s shoulder.

It was obvious what was about to unfold next.

With the door sealed tight, the van sped off down the road. I was stuck powerless as I lay there, watching the scene unfold.

One of them climbed aboard, swiftly binding my hands behind me.

In a moment, the other thug came forward, presenting a sodden towel to the one who had subdued Gabi Schneider.

He promptly draped it over her face. The struggling magician resisted, but within three seconds, her eyes lost their strength, and her body slumped.

The same fate soon befell me.

I tried resisting as they covered my mouth and nose with the towel. But the moment I inhaled that rancid smell, darkness overtook my vision.

—

When I finally lifted my heavy eyelids, everything was engulfed in blackness.

I couldn’t see a ray of light anywhere.

My head thundered with pain, possibly from a nasty bump when I collapsed.

I attempted to ponder how I found myself here, but I quickly realized my memory had been severed.

With a pounding headache, I couldn’t make sense of my surroundings either, but I gradually calmed my breathing and began to ascertain where I was lodged.

Initially, the sound was what struck my senses.

—Squeak, squeak.

It sounded akin to fingernails scraping against a metal sheet. It felt thin, almost slate-like. I attempted to wiggle my bound hands behind me to grasp what objects were present.

Amid this confusion, I succeeded in deducing some details through my sense of touch.

First, I realized I was in a confined space.

The reasoning is simple: the tightness of my position, hunched up, clearly indicated I was wedged within something small, and the cold, unyielding texture against my fingers indicated iron.

Consequently, it didn’t take long to ascertain that I was trapped inside a drum. This oddly familiar posture ignited memories of an earlier time when I found myself confined in a drum as well.

“…”

With my vision obscured, I concentrated on my senses.

If they had intended to kill me, there would have been no reason to restrain me within this drum. If they wished to execute me, they would likely drag me elsewhere to dispose of my life there instead. Thus, it logically followed that a mode of transportation must be involved.

As I focused my hearing, the rhythm of the movement registered.

It could be sensed that my body was swaying, though not from a vehicle’s road surface; that wouldn’t create this degree of sway.

Rather, it seemed I was being transferred onto a vessel. There wasn’t a distinct rationale, just a hunch.

Drums aboard a boat.

An abrupt memory of submerging Raul clicked into my mind. I had teased Jake about being seasick back then, remarking that “land dogs remain land dogs.”

“…”

In my futile search for an escape route, though I prodded about for a possible means, it ultimately yielded nothing. The bindings were firm and no matter how I searched, I couldn’t find any means to cut through the ropes.

I wore myself thin with futile attempts to break free, ultimately accepting that escaping was impossible. I needed to conserve my energy as I had no clear idea what might happen next.

Even during these trials, the vessel continued to sail somewhere far off.

I tried counting to gauge how much time had passed, but I was rendered incapable of doing even that. I had regained consciousness wedged within a drum but couldn’t ascertain how long I had been in this predicament at all.

“…”

As the solemn surroundings pressed on me, it became overwhelmed by an incoming wave of noise.

The sounds of crashing waves. The bustle of footsteps on deck. And more.

Now on what could be day however many of my bewildering days could span.

Confined in this drum, I was being transported away to an unknown destination.

In the thick of this oppressive silence, I simply breathed as still as a stone. Time blended and extended. The ache in my head persisted.

I leaned my head against the wall, or rather the drum, and quietly continued breathing. I maintained that tranquil rhythm of inhalation.

Such a tedious, drawn-out process, lacking any sense of resolution, came to a sudden halt when I felt the return of solid ground beneath my two feet.

Unseen figures grasped my arm, dragging me away from the place I was wedged. With their arms around my shoulders, they restrained my limbs and fastened the rope about my ankles. They pulled me upright.

Wherever we disembarked was unknown. All I could discern was that I had been dragged underground at some point.

Steered by these masked aggressors down a flight of stairs, we weaved left and right, eventually entering a room I couldn’t recognize.

The thugs seated me on a chair. Apart from a single shout and the orders of “Grab him,” they uttered not a word. They were thorough in their silence.

“…”

I deeply inhaled as I sat in the chair. I fixated my ears on what sounds I might capture from their conversations.

Perhaps there might be a chance to overhear their discussions.

However, as the drama unfolded, what reached my ears were not words but footsteps.

– Tap tap.

The sound echoed like someone clattering through concrete with a shiny shoe. A sound they likely could come across infrequently.

The footsteps approached swiftly, progressing for several moments before finally ending at my direct vicinity.

A figure, leaning on the back of the chair, adjusted accordingly.

Their form was someone sizable enough to elude the “small” label—rather, they could confidently be described as a fit person. Upon peering up, I recognized the figure sitting before me; there was no chance of mistaking who it was.

“……”

The woman settled comfortably into the chair with an expression mixing fatigue and annoyance as if I were a nuisance.

“…You surprised me when you took a vacation; now you’ve gone and caused a traffic accident.”

I called out her name.

“Director Leoni.”

Formerly the Second Director of the National Operations of the Royal Intelligence Department.

Currently, the Director of Overseas Operations at the Military Intelligence Agency.

And my superior.

“What are you doing here?”

She curled her lips in a way that conveyed irritation.

“That’s what I want to ask.”