A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Winter had passed, yet the early morning air was quite chilly.

At exactly 5 o’clock, a thick fog enveloped the surroundings.

As the flickering flame of the candle began to seep into his eyes, Pope John XVI, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, slowly lowered his gaze.

On the desk piled high with hills of Bibles and papers, there lay a solitary sheet of letterhead and an envelope, a rather humble sight for the pope’s desk. The seal bore an imprint of a dove.

Even with my eyes wide open, I couldn’t find anything distinctly remarkable about the seal.

Unlike the Cardinals, who infused meaning into the intricate symbols that barely took up the length of two fingers, the dove seal contained no significant indication, merely proving it was a correspondence meant for communication.

In the slowly revolving halls of the Vatican, John XVI had never received such a plain letter. It was rare enough for him to receive any letters at all.

However, the name inscribed at the bottom of the letter caught Pope John XVI’s attention.

Lucia.

The neatly penned characters articulated a clear message.

‘I wish to see you again.’

John XVI gazed silently at the letter.

His chin resting against his hand, the pope appeared lost in contemplation, the red candlelight swirling and spilling through the cracks of the door, as if he were a distracted old priest who had forgotten to blink.

In that moment,

His hands, which were clasped in prayer, fell apart, and Pope John XVI spoke.

“Where is Lucia now?”

—

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

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There’s a term known as a “black company.”

It’s a label for businesses that demand excessive work from employees without adhering to established labor laws while forcing them to work in harsh environments.

An unstable employment environment, long working hours, workplace abuse, and a closed-off community culture characterize these companies.

The criteria for defining a black company vary, and those who work in such firms tend to carry physical and mental fatigue, along with chronic job-related ailments.

In that sense, the intelligence agency can be seen as the embodiment of a notorious black company representing a nation.

While the pay is slightly higher than that of a civil servant, the work environment can often rival small to medium enterprises.

Getting stuck in traffic during regular commuting hours is a daily occurrence. During crises, one might even miss their exit, and in worst-case scenarios, be stuck in remote or dangerous areas for years. The competitive work structure and promotion system also contribute significantly to the breakdown of the company culture.

Yet, even in a mouse hole, the sun can shine, and when the heavens fall, a way out might still exist.

Having spent over ten years in the intelligence agency, I’ve progressed beyond merely enduring a challenging corporate life.

I’ve even reached the level of discovering methods to seek out fun amidst all that.

“Aha, as expected of the embassy. They know how to eat well,” I thought as I picked up a handful of fresh sashimi in the Oriental restaurant located in the heart of Lateran, nodding my head in appreciation.

The tender, chewy flesh filled my mouth.

The springy white flesh pressed against my teeth, chunks of it cutting away like pieces of a rock. The sashimi, localized to suit foreign tastes, danced on my tongue, perfectly infused with flavor.

“Ah….”

After stuffing my face full of sashimi and chugging down some beer, I added a careless remark to complete my meal.

Seeing my behavior, the precious young lady from England gave me a look of utter disbelief, as if she had never seen anything so bizarre.

“Why on Earth are you eating like that? Can’t you eat quietly?”

“Hey! Don’t speak if you don’t know! You have no idea how good it is to drink when you’re off-duty….”

“Isn’t it a problem to drink while on duty in the first place…?”

With nothing to do and bored out of my mind, I had decided to eat breakfast out with Camila, feeling a bit tired of the meals provided by the hotel.

Hotel meals are always delicious, but sticking to the same dish can be suffocating. We had set out to find some exotic food after leaving the hotel.

Not being well-versed in the local conditions or geography, I was worried I would be caught off-guard by hungry hyenas looking to capitalize on the tourist boom when I got a suggestion from an intelligence officer who had been stationed in Lateran for over three years.

And jackpot!

“Oh, this is heavenly. I thought my teeth would fall out.”

The Oriental restaurant recommended by the intelligence officer was undoubtedly one of the best I had visited in this town.

It was so delicious that it could rival the sushi I had savored during my past assignment in Japan.

“Japan?”

Camila, who had been munching on the fish, tilted her head in confusion.

“Oh, I mentioned I’ve been to Japan before, right?”

“Yes. I went for a North Korean project for a bit.”

If an intelligence officer travels to Japan or China, it’s almost certainly for North Korean operations. While there are occasional projects for Japan and China, the focus on North Korea is significantly higher given the characteristics of South Korean intelligence.

As I gulped the extremely tasty beer down my throat, I lowered my voice to ensure no one else overheard and began spinning a tale.

“Sure, there are fringe organizations like Chochongryon in Japan, and the Reds have immense resources built up over decades there, but the real treasures lie in regions like Eurasia, with China and Russia, along with Middle Eastern areas represented by Iran and Syria or even Venezuela in Latin America.”

“Areas friendly to North Korea with plenty of resources, I see?”

“Exactly.”

Despite the way Reds are often depicted as solo weapon-wielding critical threats in movies or dramas, that is merely an illusion created by media.

Whether in the National Safety and Security Department, the Reconnaissance General Bureau, or the Cultural Exchange Bureau, oversees both intelligence assets from allied information agencies as well as their own. No intelligence agency is foolish, in fact, and they receive plenty of insightful information concerning North Korea.

So, North Korean intelligence agencies often end up hiding in friendly countries willing to overlook their activities (the funny part being that even Chinese and Russian agencies often exchange information with South Korean intelligence).

Especially in conflict regions, where drug smuggling can be lucrative, competition for assignments was fierce.

In that context, it would make sense for intelligence officers handling North Korea to genuinely hope to advance to those dangerous regions. However, as is often the case in life, things don’t always flow logically.

Ironically, the number one country South Korean intelligence officers wish to be dispatched to is not Syria, but friendly countries like Japan.

And the reason is simple.

“It’s a wonderful place to relax and eat.”

I added while enjoying my beer.

“When going overseas, the most dreadful thing is the local cuisine, but Japan has food to suit my taste and is close by, allowing for easy travel. Adjusting to the time difference is easier too. The culture is fairly similar, and there are many staff members who can speak Japanese, making it easier to seek support.”

Of course, while obtaining support might be easy, competing to be selected as the regional officer for Japan involves fierce competition. It’s not enough simply to have learned Japanese through school or travel; it’s a different starting line altogether when compared to those who studied at prestigious universities in Japan or lived there for years.

In contrast, less popular languages like Arabic or Spanish might have fewer competitors, but Japanese does not lack for candidates. The same applies to Chinese for those applying to China and English for those heading to English-speaking countries.

Nevertheless, Japan remains a favored working location for a majority of intelligence officers.

“Well, even if I expressed it negatively, being in charge of the Japan region means there is indeed plenty to do. Most of the intelligence agencies are interested in advanced countries.”

Ironically, I, who mostly wander back and forth between China, the Middle East, and Latin America, could be seen as the minority.

“If I had known, I should’ve quietly accepted when my uncle offered to send me to Japan. Considering the horrific time I had with malaria…”

“That’s all in the past. Let’s eat up and head out. It’s about time.”

“Alright then.”

I clinked glasses with Camila and downed my beer.

—

Starting our light escapade of drinking during the broad daylight, we headed towards the event hall located in the heart of Lateran.

Though hidden behind canonizations and coronations, the church had been hosting quite a few international events since early in the year.

Among the many different events, the grandest was the ‘New Year’s Gathering of Overseas Citizens.’

Entering the hotel lobby, adorned with a large banner, I could see the crowd gathered in the event hall.

“Wow, there’s quite a crowd.”

“Well, in any culture, social gatherings are of utmost importance. When away from home, individuals without connections are bound to stick together.”

Though today’s event was a social meet hosted by the expatriate community, it wasn’t exclusive to just expatriates.

I glanced at the crowd of suit-clad diplomats wandering the venue.

“Those are the folks from the Foreign Ministry.”

The diplomats attended the event, sent from the embassy for the expatriate community hosted by the church.

Though one could wonder why diplomats would attend an event exclusively for expatriates, the roles of diplomats become crucial during such gatherings.

Reporters dispatched from the home country, traders exporting goods, travel agency owners bringing in steady tourism, scholars seeking knowledge abroad, and aspiring artists.

Many expatriates wield a mix of power, both big and small. And those attending and standing out at such gatherings are often successful in their respective fields.

Thus, the diplomats were there to manage their networks for smooth operations.

And the same could be said for spies donning the guise of diplomats.

As soon as I stepped through the entrance of the event hall, a gentleman in a suit hanging out in the lobby started to widen his eyes. With a smile on his face, he hurried over to me.

“Sir! What a surprise to see you here!”

“Oh, good to see you! It’s been a while.”

I greeted him cordially. Even without any badges identifying each other, we could recognize each other instantly.

The suit-clad gentleman was a staff member from the embassy stationed in the church.

“I heard you’ve been quite busy recently.”

“What’s busy? The job of a civil servant is always the same.”

“I’m a civil servant as well, so I know well. This time, we owe a lot to the people from Abas.”

“Why owe, we’re allies, aren’t we….”

It was then that I raised my head and looked at the words inscribed on the banner.

‘Welcoming Ceremony for National Internship Students hosted by the Patalian Community.’

A counselor from the Patalian Embassy in charge of the church.

Also, an intelligence officer responsible for the National Security Agency’s regional operations.

As I exchanged warm greetings with the foreign intelligence officer, I dropped the pleasantries and jumped straight to the point.

“By the way, where is Miss Ranieri?”

—

Though many overlook it, expatriate events aren’t purely civilian gatherings.

While expatriates are legally treated as foreign citizens, there are those who don’t fit that mold.

Citizens with dual nationality or those simply residing abroad due to personal circumstances require government care, and it’s the diplomats dispatched locally who can best support expatriates who struggle to forget their roots and maintain their identities.

And while most are aware, embassies are almost synonymous with spy havens.

From second- and third-generation immigrants working in foreign government agencies, businessmen running trading and travel agencies, citizens who gained citizenship through military service, journalists dispatched by media corporations, and freelance reporters.

A multitude of people, any of whom might be able and willing to ‘cooperate’ with ‘the company.’

In the midst of the busy Patalian intelligence officers, I boldly made my way forward.

As news of our appearance spread through the event hall, the church’s diplomats, as well as spies thirsty for insights, began to swarm and become a nuisance.

I politely fended them off while making my way through the interior of the event hall.

Amidst that crowd, I succeeded in locating my intelligence officer.

“There you are, Francesca.”

As Francesca’s gaze slowly turned towards me, surrounded by people, she set down her wine glass and greeted me with a beautiful smile.

“You’re late, Hero. I see you’ve come as well.”

“I got bogged down in traffic!”

“Who are these people?”

Francesca pointed out the companions seated at the table.

“These are professors from Patalia. We were connected through a magic university exchange event. This is Colonel Frederick Nostrim from the Abas Ministry of Defense. And this is Miss Camila Lowell, a colleague of mine and the Colonel.”

Well, even without introductions, everyone should have heard the names at least once, right?

Francesca, smiling warmly, continued.

The people seated at the table were professors affiliated with prestigious universities in Patalia. It meant they were well-known faculty members known worldwide.

Camila politely greeted the professors, and I pretended to introduce myself while discreetly checking their identities.

There was a professor responsible for military magic research under the Ministry of Defense, three professors awarded by the government for their work on ore purification technology, and there were also graduate advisors whose stocks were projected to rise after publishing new papers.

Indeed, it was an impressive lineup befitting someone like Francesca who had received love calls from various universities and institutions.

It would have been a mouth-watering sight for other intelligence officers, but I didn’t want to create conflict with Patalian intelligence officers watching the table. After all, they weren’t connections I particularly needed.

So, I quickly snatched Francesca away and made my exit from the table.

“You seem quite busy since morning.”

“It’s not like I’m any busier than before.”

Francesca, playfully pretending to be innocent, lit a magical herb in a familiar stone pipe. Now, as she ignited it, she began to puff smoke while firing questions at me.

“However, where did the Hero go? I saw you veering off the side on the way here.”

“I asked for a moment’s vacancy. He’s probably out enjoying some food.”

Camila had expressed wanting to hang out with Francesca too, but upon my request to leave, she didn’t hesitate to comply.

She was probably eyeing the buffet food, and I cautiously speculated she had gone to inhale some.

“I’ll get straight to the point. The Duke wants to see Camila.”

I immediately dropped the crux of our discussion onto Francesca.

“The Duke wishes to see me…?”

“I’m not sure about the exact reason, but he seems eager to meet.”

“Have you asked for her opinion?”

“Not yet. Do you have an idea of why?”

“An idea….”

Francesca, puffing on her pipe, fell deep into thought.

The reason the Duke wished to get in touch with Camila. Francesca speculated it was likely due to curiosity.

“Curiosity, you say?”

“Because you’ve come from another world. Though you’ve long since retired from the magical community, the Duke remains a magician at heart. And magicians can’t resist their curiosity.”

Francesca suggested that the reason the Duke wanted to meet Camila was due to curiosity over the knowledge and customs from another world that were pulling him in.

Of course, the Duke’s desire to meet Camila wasn’t merely out of curiosity. Francesca paused the pipe and added.

“Even aside from that, the Duke certainly has plenty of reasons to want to meet you. I can think of knowledge as a primary reason.”

“Knowledge, you say?”

“You also possess a degree of understanding regarding magic, right, Colonel?”

I nodded in agreement.

Francesca’s voice continued.

“The Magic Tower essentially comprises various schools of magic. Among them, the ones with the deepest history are the schools of Sorcery and Astrology. Yet another school, the one that fundamentally maintains the epicenter of the magical society, exists, doesn’t it?”

“Are you referring to the Elemental School?”

The Elemental School. One of the three major magical schools in the tower and the one that handles the most extensive scope of magic.

“Though scholars differ in their definitions of elemental magic, it’s universally regarded as the foundational study of a variety of magics. This is why sorcerers of the Elemental School can perform a wide variety of magic. That is the very limit of elemental magic.”

Elemental magic serves as the foundation for the majority of magic. Just as sorcery forms the foundation for curses and spirit magic, elemental magic is widely employed across various sectors of society alongside alchemy.

The issue, however, lay in the vastness of elemental magic’s domain.

“There are many opposing magics within elemental magic. A fire magician cannot manipulate water, and an air magician cannot shift the earth. But the real problem is that even wizards with the same attributes struggle to communicate.”

For example, let’s consider a wizard who utilizes fire.

Many can handle fire, but the flames they can wield differ from one another.

One person’s flames may be so powerful they can consume wood, while another can barely ignite logs.

Some may wield white flames, while others manipulate red flames. Just looking at Camila and the Duke illustrates this: though they use similar abilities, the colors of their flames alone differ.

Francesca posited that these reasons made the Duke curious to meet Camila.

Specifically,

“He’s curious about the extent of your abilities. Have you not witnessed it firsthand? The flames that even the Imperial Army couldn’t touch, which engulfed the Great Rift’s forests and swallowed the Anrodah Mountains.”

I bit my lip and let out a slight sigh. It was exceedingly difficult to speculate about the Duke’s inner thoughts.

Interpreting the thoughts of a Grand Magus wasn’t a simple task, and Camila’s abilities remained undefined. It had been several months since we heard she was conducting research within the Magic Tower, but news of its completion had yet to arrive.

How should I analyze it? While I mulled over various analytical techniques, I suddenly posed a question to Francesca.

“By the way, what does the Duke intend to do with the information he gathers about Camila? Does he plan on writing a paper or something?”

“I can’t know that for sure. But, even if it’s personal speculation, there’s one possibility.”

“What’s that?”

“Apprenticeship.”

Francesca declared confidently.

“A talent born with exceptional gifts, having also been the first headmaster of the Elemental School. And likewise, a Hero compared to a Grand Mage, solely due to innate talent.”

The Grand Mage’s descendant stated.

“Perhaps the Duke wishes to take you on as a disciple.”

“……”

“Isn’t it entirely out of the question?”