A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The train journey that seemed so smooth had barely begun when an incident occurred just a day in.

The spark was Camila’s words.

“Someone’s dead, you know?”

She claimed she had seen something suspicious while returning from the restroom.

A body was removed from the train, and armed police officers boarded.

“Was it natural causes?”

“No, it looked like a murder.”

I closed the book I was reading and accessed the company intranet. Intel related to the Mauritania Continent flooded the screen in an instant.

As I quietly slid my device out, Camila swiftly took her seat.

“I’ll hand over the radio, so just wait here. If the police come to check, be discreet and hide the device.”

“Where are you going?”

As I simultaneously twisted the buckle of my travel bag to the other side, I pried open the hidden compartment to reveal a coldly sharpened knife.

I tucked the 5.7-inch blade inside my jacket.

“Just taking a stroll around the neighborhood.”

—

Episode 20 – Who brandished the knife to threaten?

When it comes to Middle Eastern oil-rich airlines, the defining feature is undoubtedly the service.

With a subtly spacious seat pitch, refined lounges, friendly stewardesses, delicious in-flight meals, and so on.

Naturally, the government poured massive subsidies and tax benefits into these airlines based on oil money, so it’s only to be expected that they would boast superior service than any other carriers I’d experienced so far.

The train we boarded evoked nostalgia reminiscent of those Middle Eastern airlines.

Part of it was due to Duke Alexandra having booked us first-class (which somewhat parallels business class in regular airlines), but the railway company is situated in the richest nation on the Mauritania Continent, isn’t it? A wealthy nation bursting with natural resources like oil and marble, not to mention it’s a royal-owned company with over half its shares held by the royal family—when it comes to service quality, it could easily put middle-eastern airlines to shame.

Yet within such an exquisite train, a murder incident occurred.

“…This is interesting.”

After stepping out of the first-class section, I quickly began to scan the area.

“Ha ha ha!”

“Don’t run. You might trip.”

“I’m just going to the restroom. Should I grab a bento on the way back?”

Even after the murder, the atmosphere in the train remained eerily peaceful. Children dashed across the aisles, while adults sat back, engrossed in their own tasks.

You couldn’t spot unease or apprehension on any of the passengers’ faces. They simply moved to the restroom or the train station to fulfill unresolved needs or take a break while the train stood still.

Checking the time, I noticed we had been stopped at the station for over ten minutes longer than the average halt, yet the passengers appeared completely unfazed.

That was understandable enough.

The stewardesses were running around tirelessly, serving everyone.

“Is there anything bothering you?”

“I’ll refill your glass.”

“Please just let us know whatever you need. We’ll bring it right away.”

Yet the stewards wore gloomy expressions.

A woman with sun-kissed skin and a scarf licked her dry lips, fidgeting nervously, while a dark-skinned man presumed to be the chief steward held onto a magic radio tightly, whispering to the other crew members.

“Police will board at this station and conduct checks. Even if they ask what’s going on, don’t answer. We absolutely must keep the passengers in the dark. Understood?”

“Yes….”

“By the way, chief steward. Who on earth committed the crime…?”

“I’m dying to know too. No seriously, what kind of person—”

The chief steward cut himself off and drew a sharp breath.

He hastily averted his gaze, and I seamlessly transitioned to the connecting carriage.

For a brief moment, the atmosphere froze at the unexpected appearance of an intruder. One of the stewards scanned my appearance, then awkwardly smiled and started a question that wasn’t even a question in Kien.

“Excuse me…? Is there something you need?”

“To use the restroom.”

I replied with a deliberately curt tone, and the steward gestured toward the opposite connecting carriage.

This side’s restroom had a problem and was out of service, so he politely requested I move to the next car, which I found quite inconvenient.

I brushed past the stewards, paying them no mind.

Instead of moving to the other connecting carriage, I swung open the restroom door right in front of me.

“Excuse me! Just a moment!”

The stewards hurried toward me, trying to block my path, and I expressed my exasperation with a dumbfounded look.

“What? I really need to go.”

“Please move to the other side. To the other side.”

“Why should I?”

“If you follow us….”

Thus, I was gently shoved out of the connecting carriage.

What a delightful situation.

The stewards preventing me from using the restroom, and the scattered police officers seen outside the train.

The broken bathroom mirror and the missing toilet tank cover.

“…Seriously?”

What a bizarre circumstance it was.

—

“It’s definitely a murder. It seems they were struck with the toilet tank cover.”

— ‘How can you be so sure?’

“It’s a scene assessment, really.”

I perched myself on the sink and continued murmuring.

“The mirror in front of the sink was shattered, and hair and blood, as well as flesh, were stuck to it. Considering that the toilet tank cover is missing. The murderer likely grabbed the victim by the back of the head to slam it into the mirror, causing a concussion, then finished it off with the tank cover.”

— ‘Did you completely rule out the possibility of other tools being used for the murder?’

“While we won’t know specifics until we examine the body, there were no signs of any other tools at the scene aside from the cover. Plus, the conversation among the crew members also mentioned something about injuries to the head.”

The crew members, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t understand their language since I looked like a clumsy foreigner, continued discussing the murder amongst themselves for quite some time while casting glances in my direction.

From their perspective, it was a very logical conclusion.

After all, a foreigner on an expensive train typically indicates a businessman, corporate executive, or a traveler with deep pockets.

“Regardless, this wasn’t an impulsive act. It was a deliberate homicide, and their skill isn’t ordinary…”

— ‘That means it wasn’t a huge brawl that ended with a murder, but the killer subdued the victim beforehand, right?’

“That’s highly likely.”

The scene didn’t seem to suggest a messy struggle.

If that’s the case, it means the victim was cleanly killed without even the opportunity to fight back.

The only lingering question remains.

Why was the victim killed?

Camila wondered if the victim’s identity had been collected. However, there was no mention of the train within the Military Intelligence Agency intranet.

— ‘The incident has barely been an hour since it occurred. There wouldn’t be any information yet, right?’

“Aah, but information surfaces if searched for.”

I pulled out my work phone to call headquarters.

Once the staff on standby connected me to the local branch, about 25 minutes passed before I received a message.

“We have the victim’s information.”

— ‘Already? What does it say?’

“Just an ordinary civilian.”

The profile the local branch obtained through the police was unblemished to the point of being pristine.

Not a soldier, police officer, or information agency member, but an average office worker. Moreover, he had no ties to terror organizations, criminal syndicates, or warlords—just an ordinary citizen.

Upon hearing the details, Camila began speculating towards the typical crime scene. Something like a grudge or loan issues, right? That kind of talk.

— ‘Was there any debt or anything of that sort?’

“He had a small bank loan, but it was with a primary financial institution, quite substantial, yet loaned strictly for real estate purposes, so there’s really nothing odd about it.”

Furthermore, this person was an employee at a mid-sized company.

Sure, one could argue he might have racked up significant loan sharks and fled, leading to his killing, but such individuals often owe enormous debts to banks or wouldn’t even be able to secure a loan in the first place.

Yet this deceased individual was methodically paying back his loans while holding a stable job, making it difficult to conclude that he was murdered over financial issues.

“He emigrated to another country to escape civil war 11 years ago.”

— ‘But he’s in his thirties. He left home in his early twenties due to the civil war. Can it truly be related?’

“Who knows….”

There were many doubts, but no substantial evidence.

Thus, speculation remained mere speculation, and the story kept circling in place.

— ‘I’ll let you know as soon as new information comes in. By the way, where was the victim originally from?’

“Mardik.”

With the sound of my fingers tapping the keypad, I pocketed the device. The train jolted back into motion along the tracks just as I set it down.

It was shortly after armed police had boarded, yet no chaos had erupted as of then.

“Show me your passport. Now.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t understand this language….”

“Passport, please.”

“I really can’t understand what you’re saying!”

Armed officers roamed through the carriages, inspecting the belongings and identification of the passengers. The unexpected checks left many passengers visibly flustered.

However, I, who had overheard the crew’s discussions and had prepared for these checks, passed without issue.

“Hmmm….”

After retrieving my passport, before moving to the next carriage, I counted the officers who were deeply engaged in checking.

“That’s quite a few.”

There were at least twenty officers who boarded the train. No matter how large the train is or how many passengers it carries, isn’t that rather strange?

They seemed to be doing gentle inspections, but the sight of officers wielding rifles didn’t sit well with many. Some were anxious, some lamented to the crew. A strangely uncomfortable atmosphere swirled within the train.

Eager to dodge that uncomfortable air, I stepped away from my seat and pulled out my mobile phone, pressing the call button.

After several rings, someone finally picked up from the other side.

— ‘Oppa?’

“Why did it take you so long to pick up? You should answer more promptly.”

— ‘Why are you yelling when I’m working? What now?’

Once again, my obnoxious younger sister, Ayla, began to chatter with annoyance.

Tch. I clicked my tongue briefly and then readjusted my grip on the phone.

“There’s been an incident on the train I’m on, and I need you to find out some information. No need for long explanations—just gather what you can find about the region I’m in, the victim’s background, police investigation records, Foreign Affairs documents, Military communications, etc. Just scrape together any data your company has on file. Hurry up.”

— ‘……’

“Why?”

— ‘…This wasn’t for personal matters, was it?’

“Do you want me to drag you home and make you regret it?”

After a threat of tattling to our parents about her job at the Royal Intelligence Department, Ayla started gathering the information without protest, just as I’d expected. That’s just the kind of girl she is. You can’t get through to her with polite words.

While waiting for my sister to compile the necessary data, I finally got a reply from Ayla.

Containing the information I’d requested.

—

— ‘I checked the deceased’s hometown against the country you’re staying in, and there appear to be no significant issues between the governments. But….’

“What’s that?”

— ‘There was an incident late last year where a group of rebel fighters trying to cross the border into the country you’re in right now was detected. Through the train.’

What a serendipitous piece of news.

I had just grasped the probable backdrop of the heightened inspections. If issues arose regarding rail travel, it’s only natural the security checks would tighten.

Camila arrived at a similar conclusion.

— ‘The armed group crossing the border illegally? That certainly adds up. No wonder I was bewildered by the armed checks…. The fact that the victim happened to be from that country explains their heightened alertness on the police’s part.’

“Speaking of rebels crossing the border, is there any other news?”

— ‘The data is quite extensive, so I can’t thoroughly sift through it all. I can pull up anything regarding TTP (Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures) or Modus Operandi (referring to a method of operation in criminal investigation)— but oh, I do see intel suggesting there’s been a flurry of attempts for overseas expansion recently. They’ve particularly been sending members of conscription age and have certain characteristics, like tattoos on their bodies.’

“…Is that so?”

— ‘Yes.’

“Got it.”

Before hanging up, I added a brief note.

“Camila. If I don’t contact you within 30 minutes, I’ll be getting off at the next station.”

— ‘Why?’

“Nothing serious.”

I slightly bent forward to peek into the train carriage.

Filled with men in their 20s and 30s.

Strikingly, these fellows had adorable and whimsical tattoos covering their bodies.

I guess I’m getting a free ride on this expensive train. It seems I just might’ve hit the jackpot.

I murmured in utter disbelief.

“It seems it’s time to hitch a ride with the Duke.”