A Dark Fantasy Spy

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“When does the next exam start?”

Giada Bianchi checked her watch and clipboard alternately in response to my question.

“According to the schedule, it should start right away, but it’s already getting late…”

As a furrow formed on her brow and about ten seconds passed, she bluntly threw out,

“Since it’s not a crucial test that takes a long time, let’s take a short break before moving on.”

“Sounds good.”

—

Episode 3 – A Fantastic Vacation

The Advanced Military Magic Research Institute is not just any research facility.

It’s a large and grand building that lives up to its reputation as the largest research complex in the country. The institute develops the core technologies and magic used in all the equipment for the military, making it a sort of research complex.

It’s somewhat similar to how superpowers like the U.S. and the Soviet Union established small cities around their missile and nuclear weapon development facilities during the Cold War.

Of course, the U.K., France, and China, which cannot be excluded from the conversation about nuclear weapons, have also operated similar facilities. Most of them were shut down shortly after the Cold War, leaving only a few, and those remaining facilities still act as factories churning out nuclear materials and various biochemical weapons.

It’s ironic that all the permanent members of the UN Security Council are nuclear powers responsible for global peace and security, but hey, that’s international politics for you.

Anyway, the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute was exactly the kind of secret facility that evokes Cold War vibes.

While it wasn’t as vast as a nuclear test site since they had blasted out the mountains to construct the building, it still had everything you might want, except for being hundreds of meters underground.

“Wow. Is there even a theater here?”

“Is this your first time seeing a theater?”

“When would I ever have a chance to see a theater located under a mountain in my life?”

“That’s a valid point.”

Of course, the actual area wasn’t that ridiculously expansive. This place lacked the technology to build a massive town below the mountain range.

However, thanks to the development of magic that could utilize limited space multiple times over, such petty issues could be easily resolved.

“This area is the Cultural Zone.”

“This was created using that pocket space magic…?”

“Yes, correct.”

Arriving by tram, we came to the Cultural Zone of the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

As the name suggests, this space was created to ensure the cultural and leisure activities of the institute’s employees. While small in scale, it was surprisingly equipped with all sorts of cultural facilities like a theater, gym, auditorium, restaurants, and even a park.

This was made possible due to the exorbitant costs of using various magic spells.

“I heard that the space where the tram runs is actually made with magic as well. In reality, it’s just a passage barely wide enough for a person.”

“Wow… How do you know that, Colonel?”

I had seen the institute’s blueprints—

But claiming that would likely get me labeled as a spy, so I just casually said I picked it up somewhere.

Meanwhile, Camila Lowell, a former Earth girl turned imported exotic magic girl, was exclaiming in awe at the pinnacle of modern magical engineering.

“Is this a commercialized technology?”

“It has been commercialized, but…”

Unfortunately, magic in this world wasn’t as developed as what you’d find in web novels or movies. The fact that the magic tower won a war against a cult less than a century ago makes it understandable.

As I have mentioned repeatedly, religion holds immense power in this region.

Whether or not gods exist is uncertain, yet the holy priests who wield ‘divine’ powers form an environment ripe for religious zeal. This is generally referred to as faith, and based on that faith, numerous religious organizations exert varying degrees of influence throughout society.

Consequently, although not as prevalent now, there are still many religious figures who nitpick policies and academic research, often citing “blasphemy.”

For instance, they might prohibit airplane development by claiming, “The sky is governed by the gods, and humans flying in the sky contradicts the order of things.” Or they might ban genetic manipulation, arguing, “Altering the genes of creatures touched by the gods is a challenge to the divine,” and so forth.

Pocket space magic was also once forbidden for development due to concerns that “magic could be exploited for criminal activities” stemming from the days of skirmishes with the magic tower.

Now, it’s been somewhat tolerated for the sake of convenience, but they’re cautiously proceeding with research under national supervision, fearful that any reckless attempts could lead to being labeled heretical.

This situation is utterly incomprehensible from a Muggle perspective, but it’s been going on long enough that I’ve come to accept it.

Of course, it was too complicated and headache-inducing to explain all the backstory to a girl from Earth, so I just brushed it off by saying it was too expensive.

“It’s expensive, so development goes slowly. Research funds don’t just fall from the sky.”

“How expensive can it be…?”

“I don’t know the specific amount, but the Ministry of Finance mentioned that building on the surface is cheaper than maintaining the facility here.”

“I see.”

Camila Lowell slapped her forehead.

“What a waste of tax.”

—

Under Giada Bianchi’s guidance, we reached the snack bar located in the Cultural Zone.

This snack bar was situated right at the heart of the Cultural Zone, which itself is in the center of the circular layout of the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute.

It felt just like the snack bar at the center of the Pentagon.

“……”

I had heard the game company was Russian, but something felt a bit off.

For some reason, the structure felt somewhat similar, and the grass and decorative trees on the floor were just like what I had seen in the U.S.

“…Hmm.”

Feeling an odd sense of déjà vu and a bit uneasy while checking my surroundings, Giada Bianchi turned her head to look at us.

“What would you like to eat?”

“Something sweet.”

“How about that one?”

At Giada Bianchi’s inquiry, Camila Lowell started rummaging through the menu for a sweet drink, while I randomly picked any coffee I saw on the menu and placed my order.

While the staff went to prepare the coffee, I slid my hand into my pocket and strolled around casually.

“……”

The wide corridor, which felt appropriate to call a street, was filled with lab coats and suits. Researchers munching on sandwiches for lunch after finishing up projects, clerks walking with coffee in both hands, people puffing away in hidden smoking areas.

All of them were civilians.

“Hey, Manager. I’m carrying a coffee right now.”

“Yeah. It seems I won’t be able to take any days off until this project ends… What? They’re extending the project? Oh, damn it.”

“Last time I messed with the flying magic formula, my leg got wrecked…”

“Why am I even here when I’m newly married…?”

Looks like everyone is managing just fine.

I casually strolled through the bustling corridor, taking in the sights of the world around me. Aside from being underground, the environment wasn’t too bad.

Just as I reached the trash can, I withdrew my hand from my inner pocket.

Then I popped an earpiece into my ear.

“…Do you read me?”

-‘Loud and clear.’

The sergeant’s voice came through the comm. It seemed he had concealed himself among the crowd, as I couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Camila Lowell was diligently inspecting the menu, and Giada Bianchi was murmuring something next to her while I kept my gaze sidelong at the passersby, muttering quietly.

“The suspect is currently at the snack bar.”

-‘The suspect is next to the counter. I can see them clearly.’

I didn’t spot anyone acting suspicious. At least, not to my eyes.

The issue was the overwhelming number of civilians around.

“There are too many civilians here. How are we supposed to take action?”

-‘If we recklessly introduce ourselves to the civilians, they’ll catch on, and the operation will be compromised. There are no orders from the Team Leader either, and this operation isn’t to be conducted there, so there’s no reason to introduce ourselves.’

Well, that makes sense.

“…What about above ground?”

Camila Lowell closed the menu and stood up, while Giada Bianchi began glancing around.

I turned my head away before our eyes met.

-‘…Six minutes ago, the captain passed through the checkpoint. They should have joined up by now.’

“Do you know when they’re coming down?”

-‘It’s impossible to track them in real-time. At least not until they pass through the checkpoint.’

Fantastic. Conducting operations underground is already a hassle, and now there’s no backup communication, satellites, or reconnaissance drones.

This is why I don’t donate to the church. Filthy religious zealots.

“What about the support team?”

-‘The remaining personnel and equipment from underground are on standby.’

Fortunately, agents assigned to join for backup were prepared. They were people originally scheduled to join at the start of the operation.

Upon closer inspection, while unfamiliar, I recognized some faces blended within the crowd. A man thought to be right-handed, reading a newspaper at a table in the corner of the snack bar. His left jacket pocket sagged, indicating he likely had a firearm tucked away.

A woman leaning against the wall, holding a sandwich with her right hand, located about twenty steps behind. She seemed to be left-handed based on the position she held the sandwich, protected by the wall to her right.

There were also people smoking, reading books, and waiting by the ordering counter. At least five counterintelligence agents were mingled in this cramped space.

-‘Your coffee order is up. You need to go now.’

“I’ll assess the situation and get back to you.”

I cut the comm and stuffed the earpiece into my inner pocket.

Before heading back, I drew the pistol concealed at the back of my pants and racked the slide.

-Click!

The slide moved forward, chambering a round.

The weapon was ready.

The operation begins.