A Dark Fantasy Spy

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I was assigned to a residence right in the heart of the Kingdom of Abas.

Since the Military Intelligence Agency Headquarters is located in the capital, it was a consideration from the company to reduce my commuting distance for even the little time I spend in Abas, allowing me to rest a bit more.

Thanks to this, getting to the Patalian Embassy and the Warp Gate was a breeze, within a stone’s throw away.

After arriving at the immigration office in Older Brother Jerry’s car, I entered Patalia with the help of the National Security Agency’s regional chief, who pretended to be a consular officer, already having coordinated with the company.

It was at the moment I was exiting to the back of the building, guided by the immigration office’s guards, that I made contact with the intelligence agency agent from our allied country waiting on the other side of the gate.

“You’re here, Merlo?”

“Sophia.”

National Security Agency overseas information officer, Sophia. My long-time acquaintance waved at me with a not-so-cheerful expression.

“They found a body in Patalia.”

“Really?”

“Who was it?”

Leaning against a car in the alley, Sophia glanced at my face. The mix of complicated emotions on her face and her tightly-closed lips sent an indescribable anxiety coursing through me.

I got into the backseat, looking at Sophia. As she gripped the steering wheel, she glanced at the rearview mirror and then lowered her eyes, avoiding my gaze.

“Who died?”

Sophia responded.

“…Dmitri.”

It was the announcement of an informant’s death.

—

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

The familiar smell of chemical agents mixed with a horrid stench.

The small room was filled with an unbearable odor.

In this tiny space, which was dominated by cold air, there existed an even smaller area. Just barely enough for one person to lie down.

Dmitri was there.

“……”

As I pulled back the sheet covering the cold, steel bed, a familiar face appeared. It was a middle-aged man with closed eyes.

He often said he hated the cold as he aged, claiming that the Magic Tower, maintained by magic’s milder climate, was way better than the Empire. Now he was lying on that cold bed.

I stared at him for a long time after pulling the sheet back. With his eyes closed, Dmitri looked eerily peaceful, as if deeply asleep.

While silently watching him, I cautiously took his hand.

I couldn’t find any warmth in his chilled fingers. Perhaps due to rigor mortis setting in, it felt less like holding flesh and more like touching a piece of wood.

“……”

A rustling sound of paper turning caught my attention. Sophia, taking down the documents hanging on the corpse tray, quietly opened her mouth.

“…Our team member, who went out on an errand today, found Dmitri in a hotel.”

It was a regular contact executed for the purpose of managing informants. The National Security Agency’s officer, following Sophia’s instructions, waited at the promised location.

However, after thirty minutes and then an hour passed, Dmitri didn’t show up. The time and place had been accurately communicated, and he had never missed an appointment without notice before.

Sensing something amiss, the officer reported to Sophia. She called the hotel where Dmitri was staying, but no one answered.

When Sophia instinctively felt something was wrong with his safety, she gathered her team members and went to the hotel.

As soon as they got off the elevator, the National Security Agency staff noticed that the room’s door was slightly ajar.

“Something didn’t feel right. The door being open is already strange.”

Sophia spoke.

“Dmitri was always thorough about locking up. He had three locks on his own front door at the Magic Tower.”

Yeah, I know.

His lock-checking habit had formed when he was working as a social affairs journalist in the Kien Empire. Dmitri had been labeled a dissident long ago for demanding the release of imprisoned journalists through sensitive articles.

With the police and the Imperial Guard barging in to search his home without a warrant, he became paranoid, worrying excessively about security.

He had locked it up so well that one time I jokingly asked if it was a dragon’s lair.

“It just doesn’t make sense that such a person would leave the hotel room unlocked…”

“……”

I tugged the sheet to examine Dmitri’s body. While I hadn’t noticed it before, there were numerous wounds around his neck.

His chest and abdomen were bruised black, the left forearm seemed broken and caved in, and there were staples sticking into his thigh.

Twelve, fifteen… No, eighteen. I lost count while trying to tally the number of staples lined up.

On his thighs, as if someone had doodled with a pen, there were a number of staples, and the surrounding area bore marks as if scorched by fire. Judging by the size and the ash residue around, it looked like they had been burned by a cigarette.

“Here’s a picture of the room Dmitri was staying in.”

The photo Sophia handed over bore stark evidence of torture, equal to the scars left on the corpse.

“The forensic experts and the investigators told me the torture probably lasted about two hours. The exact cause of death will have to be found out through an autopsy, but…”

Sophia trailed off. She knew what Dmitri’s cause of death would likely be.

My gaze drifted down to the neck area, passing over the bruised skin. The first thing that caught my eye was a long laceration crossing over the Adam’s apple. It was a typical mark of a throat being cut.

“…The edges are messy.”

As I confirmed Dmitri’s neck, I spoke.

“Someone must have forcibly tilted his chin from behind to slash at his throat. Unlike when someone does it themselves, the edges become ragged when it’s done from behind.”

“Assassination?”

“In this case, I’d say it’s an execution.”

There was no need for an autopsy.

He was beaten down, tortured, and had his throat slit—if that wasn’t execution, then what was it? Even if you called it an assassination, it was rare to kill someone this way.

“……”

I leaned against the wall of the morgue, catching my breath. Sophia covered Dmitri’s body with the cloth.

“…Who did this?”

I questioned Sophia. She turned her gaze toward me, having been staring at the corpse tray with her hand shoved in her pocket.

“It’s not confirmed yet.”

“So who was it?”

“…Imperial Guard HQ.”

“What was the purpose?”

A sigh escaped Sophia.

“Why would they execute a dissident? Of course, it’s to send a warning.”

“…Is there a possibility that Dmitri’s identity was compromised?”

“We had considered that too, but the chances are slim. Logically, if they found an informant cooperating with a foreign intelligence agency, it would be better to turn them against each other and set a trap. There’s no need for an execution like this.”

Dmitri’s death was not said to be because they failed to protect him as an informant.

“But the Empire has no reason to kill Dmitri after all this time.”

Dmitri was a dissident from the Kien Empire. For years, the Imperial Guard HQ and the national police had been monitoring and suppressing him, and it was not uncommon for intelligence agencies in the Empire to harm and assassinate dissidents.

But that, too, was only when he was active in the Empire’s press. Since he moved to the Magic Tower, the Empire stopped trying to kill dissidents who fled overseas.

While it’s true that Dmitri’s activities in the Magic Tower pointed out the absurdities of the imperial regime, seeing it from a macro perspective, he had never posed enough of a threat to shake the Empire or topple the royal family.

So why on earth would the Imperial Guard HQ have a reason to assassinate Dmitri now?

“Dmitri had been frequently contacting foreign reporters.”

“…Correspondents?”

“Yes.”

Sophia nodded.

“It seems he was criticizing the Kien Empire’s regime while contacting foreign reporters. When we checked his mobile phone’s voicemail, we found he had even scheduled interviews with foreign media. He had exchanged contacts with correspondents as well as war correspondents…”

“……”

“He had been asking us for the list of journalists who had been imprisoned and their trial records in the Empire a few times. He said he wanted to make that public to help his fellow journalists get released as soon as possible.”

“……”

“Maybe that’s what caught the attention of the Empire’s intelligence agency?”

Although it was an unconfirmed guess, Sophia had fallen silent afterward.

She stared at the covered corpse silently, and I quietly gazed at Dmitri.

—

The death of one person is a tragedy, but the death of an informant becomes just another ordinary occurrence.

Dmitri’s death was summarized in a message sent from the Abas Embassy in Patalia to the Military Intelligence Agency.

The Patalian police inquired through the Kien Empire Embassy whether his family would like to consent to an autopsy and claim the body, but Dmitri’s family rejected both.

“…I just received a call from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The family refuses to take the body or permit an autopsy.”

“Well, they are in the Empire. The family has no choice.”

Dissidents from the Kien Empire who die abroad rarely return home. This is because relatives remaining in the Empire firmly refuse to take back the body.

In truth, the relatives probably wanted to reclaim the body. Who would wish for their parents, siblings, or children to be buried in a foreign land?

However, the moment the body of a dissident arrives on the Empire’s territory, the government takes it away without asking the family’s consent. They would then cut it open and conclude that it was a suicide or an accident or due to the worsening of an illness. Without any investigation or trial, they would incinerate the body.

Thus, the relatives effectively have no means of reclaiming the body. Most families refuse both the autopsy and the body to avoid having their relatives subjected to surveillance.

This is a wish for peace for their family, even from afar, and simultaneously a measure to evade the potential watch of the authorities.

“…Are the family members safe?”

At my inquiry, Sophia shook her head.

“They have remained in the Empire. I can only hope nothing happens to them…”

“……”

Dmitri’s body was taken by the Magic Tower. He had considered the tower his third homeland after being exiled from the Empire.

His first homeland was the Jeruz Republic where he was born, and the second was the Kien Empire, where he made a name for himself as a social affairs journalist.

Having been ousted from the Empire, Dmitri had established a home in the Magic Tower and, ultimately, ended up burying his bones there.

Together with Sophia, I headed to the Magic Tower’s park.

At the funeral held in the park, acquaintances and colleagues from the press who had been close to Dmitri attended.

We sat on the roof of a building overlooking the park, watching Dmitri’s funeral proceedings. A priest from the diocese presided over the ceremony as mourners carried the coffin.

As I watched the earth being laid over the coffin, Sophia suddenly spoke up.

“Our agency has decided not to investigate Dmitri’s death.”

“…Because he’s an informant?”

“Yes. Because he’s an informant.”

Unlike the death of an agent, intelligence agencies don’t bother to focus on the death of informants.

While the deaths of high-ranking exiles or informants who have been carefully managed are thoroughly investigated, the death of an ordinary informant is just one of many unfortunate incidents that continue to occur somewhere.

Hence, the National Security Agency decided not to look into Dmitri’s death. They judged that it would be difficult to apprehend the murderer even if they started investigating now.

I hung my head, replying, “…So do we.”

The Military Intelligence Agency also showed no interest in Dmitri’s death.

This was because the agency managing Dmitri wasn’t the Military Intelligence Agency but the National Security Agency.

Upon hearing the report, Leoni suspected that the Empire’s intelligence agency might have pried into something going on in the Mauritania Continent, but once the news of Dmitri’s execution reached her, she lost interest.

-‘It is indeed tragic, but it isn’t a serious situation. What attracted the Empire’s attention was not espionage activities but dissident activities so…’
‘…’
-‘Although it’s unfortunate, it’s a relief for us. If your informant had betrayed you and sided with the Empire, we would have been in a much worse situation, wouldn’t we?’
‘That’s true.’
-‘In any case, take your medical leave and get your thoughts together. If you need more time, let me know. I can extend the leave for you.’

Dmitri’s death could be seen as a tragedy, but for the informant, it was hardly substantial enough to be labeled as misfortune.

Just as I was about to look up at the sky with a heavy expression, Sophia broke the silence.

“…What will you do now?”

Hmm. What should I do?

The company says not to worry. The death of an informant is far too common in intelligence agencies.

If the Empire genuinely suspected the relationship between Dmitri and me, they wouldn’t execute him but rather try to flip him over to their side and nab me instead. Identifying the identity of the informant and arresting him is far more valuable than killing him.

Dmitri’s execution signified that the Empire’s intelligence agency did not suspect the relationship between me and Dmitri. If there were any faint suspicion, they would have taken him to the Empire rather than kill him in Patalia.

Therefore, it would be best to heed Leoni’s advice, gather myself, and hurry back to the company.

But could that be the end of it?

“…I don’t know.”

I raised my gaze towards the park where the funeral was taking place.

“I have no idea.”

—

After the funeral, I made some calls.

“How have you been?”

-‘Yeah, I’m fine. It’s good to be back in the Empire!’

It was Camila.

-‘Thank you for your concern. Lateran is peaceful as ever, and I’m as good as always. If you have some free time, feel free to drop by anytime. I’ll be waiting.’

Lucia.

-‘Ugh… I can’t stand those old geezers. Why are they all so greedy after living half a century? Sometimes I wonder if this place is a church filled with clergymen or a market teeming with merchants? By the way, Colonel. When are you coming to see me?’

Saint Veronica.

“Are you okay?”

-‘Well, I’m always fine. I’ve been busy with business lately, I haven’t been able to catch up. The warlords are frantic buying weapons. I don’t know what Sanya’s in a hurry for, but she’s been frantically acquiring weapons. It’s a pain for me. How are you, Freddy?’

“…Yeah, I’m doing fine.”

Victor.

-‘The package you sent me arrived safely. I’ve made a big profit selling those quality minerals and coal. All thanks to you.’

“It’s nothing.”

-‘I’ll treat you like royalty when you visit our tribe later. I’ll let the elders know in advance.’

Hormuz.

“…Hello?”

-‘Yes, Colonel.’

Lastly, Francesca.

I contacted everyone related to me. Concerned that the Empire’s intelligence agency might be on to me and watching, I was relieved that they all seemed safe.

Granted some leave, I spent time in the Magic Tower.

Sophia suggested that it might be good to stay in safe Patalia, but I politely declined. I didn’t want to leave this place just yet.

“……”

On a quiet dawn. I gazed at Dmitri’s grave in the deserted cemetery.

Dmitri Grigoryevich Sheremet.

1944-1998.

Our eternal friend.

While I scanned the tombstone that bore his name, birth and death dates, and an epitaph summarizing his life, I sensed someone approaching. When I turned my head, a glimpse of purple hair fluttered among the leaves caught my eye.

“What are you doing here, Colonel?”

It was Francesca.

I shifted my gaze from the tombstone to her.

“How did you know to come?”

The alchemist smiled softly.

“I heard you were at the Magic Tower. I thought it was strange that you came without telling anyone, so I asked around, and here I am.”

“…The embassy must have notified you.”

Francesca, walking slowly toward me, stopped beside me. She stared at me thoughtfully before carefully asking about the tombstone in front of us.

“Do you know this person?”

Following her gaze, I looked at Dmitri’s tombstone. I hesitated for a moment before answering.

“…He was a friend.”

—

Under Leon’s orders, I was told to step back from work for the time being.

After a few days of contemplation, they suggested that I should return to work feeling fully recovered, but quite frankly, I questioned whether I could truly relax under the circumstances.

Now that I was excluded from work, I found there wasn’t much I could do. I decided to try things I hadn’t done before and meet people I hadn’t seen in a while.

The first person I met was, of course, Francesca.

Staying at her villa in Patalia, she answered my call after so long, and for some reason, her voice sounded odd, so she came to check on me at the Magic Tower.

I spent a little time with Francesca at the Magic Tower.

The next people I decided to meet were Lucia and Veronica. I suddenly recalled Lucia had been subtly hinting for me to visit the cult for the past couple of months.

Since I thought of Lucia, it was only natural to see her. I visited the Cathedral of Tranquille, where the new saint resides, and stayed there for two days.

It was only on the third morning at the cult that I finally went to meet Veronica.

“……”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“…No, Colonel. How could you not show your face for two whole days from the time you arrived and only now make an appearance?”

Veronica, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time, was… well, just the same as before.

“Why act like it’s been months? We met just last time, didn’t we?”

“That’s different. This is this, and that’s that.”

“……”

She looked at me with a very dissatisfied expression upon seeing me come to the cathedral but not visiting her first after arriving in Lateran.

It puzzled me why she was sulking because I met Lucia before her. I had no choice but to spend an entire day trying to cheer up the sullen saint.

After an exhausting day tending to Veronica, I finally managed to lie beside her and let out a sigh of relief.

“Ahh…”

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes.”

After a deep sigh and falling asleep, the now beaming Veronica nestled into my side.

Staring at her with a look of disbelief, Veronica, with a playful smile, started poking me with her finger.

“Are you acting like a monk? Didn’t you enjoy this before?”

“Who says I enjoy…?”

“Oh, really? Then what was with that attitude just now?”

As I hummed and ran my fingers through Veronica’s shiny hair, I sighed under the blanket. I felt like I was being drained every time I interacted with her.

While I was engaging in her playful teasing, Veronica suddenly lost her smile and looked at me seriously.

“Is something wrong? The atmosphere feels off.”

“My informant was murdered.”

“An informant?”

Veronica’s expression became grave.

Her playful demeanor faded, and she began peppering me with questions—who was dead, where it happened, who killed him, and so forth.

As she listened to my explanation with a serious face, Veronica sat up.

“A civilian is dead. A dissident, as you said? From the Empire?”

“Yes.”

“The movement for the release of imprisoned journalists… I’ve heard about it. The intelligence agency has been somewhat noisy about it, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs has been cautious of the dissidents remaining active abroad. So they executed him, perhaps?”

“That’s likely what the Imperial Guard HQ knows.”

Veronica had started to make her own deductions, as expected of someone who had once been both an intelligence agent for the Imperial Guard HQ and a lobbyist for the royal family—a well-informed person in both the cult and the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

“I think it’s highly likely they killed him for being a dissident. The Empire may be oblivious to a lot but never to someone exposing their secrets. They will track you down even if you escape abroad.”

“……”

“I don’t think there’s anything unusual about your situation, Colonel. Maybe you should look into it? The branch leader of the Imperial Guard HQ or the ambassador…”

“That’s not a good idea. It’s too dangerous.”

It would be troublesome if either I or Veronica got too involved and drew the suspicion of the Imperial Guard HQ. For her safety, we needed to stay still.

As I turned down the suggestion, Veronica’s expression changed to something complex. I couldn’t tell if she felt pity, was in deep thought, or was feeling something else entirely. Looking at me with a mysterious gaze, she suddenly opened her arms wide.

“Come here.”

“…What’re you doing?”

“Come here.”

She beckoned me toward her embrace. For a moment, I stood there dumbfounded, then, as I tried to pull away in disbelief, Veronica grasped my arm and pulled me in closely.

Caught off guard, I found myself enveloped in Veronica’s arms, looking at her with a questioning expression. She gazed back at me with a soft smile.

“It’s okay.”

The benevolent smile of the saint washed over me.

“It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could have done wrong. As someone who manages informants, it feels heavy with responsibility, but you can let it go now.”

“……”

“The person who was your informant likely wanted that too. He could have betrayed you to save himself but chose not to. So, let it go now. Those who remain must keep living.”

Veronica murmured softly, and I found myself listening silently to what she had to say.

“…The path of the righteous is surrounded by the flames of the greedy and the tyranny of the wicked, so those who guide the weak from the dark valleys with mercy and righteousness shall be blessed.”

With those words, Veronica fell silent once more, but I could feel her gentle hand stroking my back.

In the midst of the slowly ticking clock, I cautiously pulled away her hand.

“How are you feeling now? A little better?”

“……”

Veronica looked at me with an oddly mischievous smile. I shook my head honestly, unsure.

“What you need right now is rest. I’ll call Lucia over, so just relax a little. Even for a moment.”

“……”

“Do you have something urgent to attend to?”

Urgent to do?

Well.

“…Yes.”

I met Veronica’s eyes and added, “Not at the moment.”