A Dark Fantasy Spy

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“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

With her feet firmly planted, Camila aimed her magic at the opponent.

The wind clashed with an ominous howl. A cold warning echoed above on the roof, where a strange figure awaited at its end.

Wrapped in a tattered cloak and with a face hidden deep within a hood, the figure seemed to be trying to conceal its very existence from the world, which gave her a mixture of discomfort and revulsion.

“……”

As flames scattered like echoes, her blue eyes began to assess the situation.

Judging by the appearance, the peculiar opponent was male. Thankfully, he didn’t look like a dark magician or a demon. The source of her unease stemmed not from an inexplicable discomfort but from the obscured identity.

However, there was one peculiar detail.

-Tuk.

Despite the warning, the cloaked figure kept approaching. Holding a staff in one hand, it seemed to stroll across the roof as if on a casual walk.

It was even stranger.

“…Huff-”

With her index and middle fingers extended, Camila took a stance like a flash of lightning, aiming for her target. The flames that had been swaying under the long wail began to fade, turning purple.

A moment passed, as eternal as it felt.

Just when her fingers were about to touch—

“-Polgor.”

A flash!

The darkened world was sliced by a violet flash of light.

The opponent, suddenly muttering upon receiving the jolt of electricity, spoke in a soft, low voice.

“Oh dear.”

As he slowly rolled up his sleeves, a small bell began to jingle from within the rags.

-Daeng…. Daeng….

The slow chime painted the world in purple.

—

Episode 20 – Who Threatened with a Knife?

The biggest problem with movies and dramas is that they instill illusions.

What is that illusion? It’s beautification.

It describes something realistically impossible or extremely difficult as if it were totally doable. It transforms situations that are a mess in reality into iconic scenes with a lot of MSG seasoning. This beautification happens across all fields and ranges, but especially action scenes were the most blatant.

You know those movies, right? One where a character with just a knife slices through gangsters in a Turkish bath, or another where someone spends the entire runtime just shooting to catch the guy who killed their pet dog.

Sometimes, there are people who can’t distinguish between movies and reality (like a certain Mr. “K” from London), and they’ll ask, “Is that even possible?” Engrossed in the movie, I always respond like this:

Please, just consider movies as movies.

“…What the hell!”

Evading the person lunging at me with all their might, I took a step back and grabbed a fistful of their hair.

The unbendable law of physics had long since broken their center of gravity. A swift kick to the side of his knee turned his joint in the wrong direction, and I immediately jabbed the knife I held in reverse into his side.

“Hyahhh!”

The silver blade glittered. The knife just barely missed gliding over his eyebrow as it soared past his head.

Brushing aside the wrist that gripped the knife, I forcefully shoved the elbow to break it.

For a fleeting moment, the familiar scream reverberated through the air. Seizing the knife that slipped from his grasp, I slashed the throat, drawing a line straight through the vocal cords and carotid artery.

“…….”

That agape mouth produced no more screams. It was the typical reaction of someone whose vocal cords had been severed, and an all-too-familiar phenomenon.

It was a principle of mine to always cut the vocal cords when dealing with guards and sentries.

I had learned this technique from a senior who honed knives daily in the office, and having once been a sword dancer in Central Asia, I had practiced it diligently until it became second nature.

I thrust the fist holding the knife forward and darted my eyes left and right, clearing my field of vision.

” Hmph….”

I took care of the ones tailing me during the ruckus. I first bashed the restroom door to knock them unconscious before stabbing them in the neck.

The problem was that the ones I had just dealt with didn’t want to die easily, drawing the attention of those still alive.

After hearing the last’s scream, my colleagues began to rush in.

“Kopf!”

“That bastard killed the kids! Grab him and kill him quick!”

The band of thieves akin to Alibaba and the 40 thieves (yet where’s Alibaba when you need him?) were exactly as expected, a bunch of gunmen. When the armed police arrived, they pulled out their hidden firearms.

-Tatatatatata! Tatatatatat!

-Bam! Tatatatat! Bang! Bam! Bam!

Sparks flew everywhere, and flashes flickered.

The firefight between the armed police and the gunmen quickly saturated the carriage with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

The remaining gunmen continued their battle, using a wall as cover, while those in the rear began to chase after me.

The shocked civilians screamed and fled due to the sudden gunfire. They repeatedly shoved past one another in frantic escape. As I kept a side-eye on the pandemonium, I bent down to snatch a rifle lying on the ground, grabbing two magazines with my left hand while stepping back.

-Tatatatatatata! Tatatatat!

The blood-drenched rifle spewed fire amid shadows zipping past.

A gun discarded near a dead man had its wooden stock shattered, but its trigger pulled vigorously regardless of its horrific appearance.

-Clunk, clunk, cacawcacawcacaw…!

Just then, the interior of the carriage fell abruptly into darkness. It seemed we had entered a tunnel, considering the sound reverberating all around.

Amid the pitch-blackness, only flashes of light flickered through.

Hidden in the darkness, only the outline of the opponent would reveal itself with every burst of light.

Relying against a firm cover, I kicked the abandoned metal cart of the stewardess. The sound of wheels echoed loudly, and then a chorus of dark mouths roared in unison from the shadows.

In that chaos, distinguishing human from object was impossible, and I couldn’t even follow where the bullets shot were going.

In that dark maelstrom, weapons sang fierce songs of rage.

I sprang up and pulled the trigger towards the hazy shapes in the distance. Not long after, a chilling silence enveloped the carriage.

“…….”

The fight had paused, yet it felt as though gunfire still echoed somewhere. Like a phantom noise.

It felt as if someone could leap out of the dark at any moment. The atmosphere was laced with an unspeakable fear.

When the seemingly eternal time ended and I finally emerged from the long tunnel, I let out a sigh of relief while holding the blood-soaked rifle.

“…Damn it.”

There was nobody standing there. Well, no one except for me.

I detached the magazine and tossed it over the seat, then hurriedly dropped the rifle and moved to the next carriage.

—

Whether it was fortunate or not, the ruckus hadn’t spread throughout the train.

The people in the rear had no idea a shootout was going on up front. They only appeared puzzled as they watched passengers fleeing in terror.

I was no different in my condition.

“…Can’t hear anything?”

There was no gunfire here. I was so bewildered I couldn’t think straight, but after calming my breath and reflecting, I made a rough estimate.

Not hearing the gunfire from another carriage meant two possible scenarios.

First, the train itself was too noisy and drowned out the sound of gunfire.

Second, the gunmen somehow silenced the noise with some magical tool.

Logically, gunfire wouldn’t be quieter than the sound of the train, so it was accurate to conclude something blocked the sound.

…Damn it.

“It’s a world where even dogs and cats use magical tools now.”

I really wondered how this world was running.

I pressed forward to escape pursuit. I saw passengers everywhere sniffling and startled, unsure of what to do.

Amid the chaotic situation, I repeated moving forward, pulled out my mobile phone.

I hit the call button and quickly held it to my ear.

“Please pick up….”

The dialing tone continued.

Sobbing and shouting reverberated in my ears.

After what felt like the noise crossing multiple train cars several times.

-Duck.

Finally, a familiar voice flowed from the connected phone.

-‘…Hello?! Frederick!’

“Are you okay?”

-‘I’m safe!’

I took a deep breath, exhaling loudly as I nodded.

Clunk clunk. My body swayed left and right with the motion of the train. It could be because I had unwound a bit, or perhaps the train was shaking too much.

“Where are you? Did you get off the train?”

I leaned against a nearby seat and checked on Camila. I intended to find her and meet up as soon as she disembarked.

However, the response contained unexpected content.

-‘On top of the train!’

“…What?”

-‘I’m still riding the train!’

“No, why didn’t you get off?”

In disbelief, I tightened my grip on the phone, demanding an explanation. Yet, Camila’s voice remained cheerfully lively.

I felt an overwhelming urge to slap her for that.

-‘Ah! But that’s not important!’

“What’s important then!?”

-‘Get out of the way there!’

“Wait, what did you just—”

-‘Ahh! Just stand clear of where you’re standing! Hurry!’

It sounded outrageous. I was utterly puzzled, but followed her instructions and stepped back.

“I’m moved aside. But what are you planning to do—”

-Kwahh!

“…What!?”

While muttering into the phone, I turned my head towards the direction of the sudden noise, and there, the ceiling was descending into view.

I’m not exaggerating; the ceiling was genuinely coming down.

“Cough…! Cough…! What’s that smell?!”

“…….”

“Ugh… I shouldn’t have been welded. What is this smell—it’s horrible….”

On a piece of metal glowing bright red at the edges laid a familiar figure sprawled out. I stood there speechless, lost for words.

Meanwhile, she, still coughing, caught my gaze.

Camila, flapping her hands and sporting an upbeat smile, said to me,

“…I think I really need to visit the hospital for a check-up after breathing all this dust.”

Upon hearing that, my neck stiffened as if turned to stone, under the magic called high blood pressure.

Watching the cheerful Camila while I shook in rage, I raised my fist to deliver a smack to her head.

Just then.

“Though our faults may be deep-rooted, don’t resort to violence among friends.”

Someone seized my wrist.

The owner of that gentle yet low voice was a man with striking blue hair. He could hardly be over thirty, wrapped in an unusual garment made from a large piece of cloth, bearing a kind smile on his face.

Who the heck is this?

“…….”

Looking at him with a questioning gaze that conveyed the ‘Who are you to interrupt?’ message, the man chuckled amiably as he stared alternately at Camila and me. Then Camila, realizing the situation, hurriedly spoke.

“Ah! Please don’t misunderstand. He’s not a bad person. He just promised to help us.”

“…Who is he?”

“He’s someone we just happened to encounter. I didn’t catch all the details, but apparently, he’s an acquaintance of the professor!”

I scanned the man with a puzzled expression. Could he really be a friend of the Duke?

Seemingly understanding the meaning behind my gaze, the man flashed a peculiar smile and slightly bowed, placing his hand over his chest.

Then he introduced himself in a short and succinct statement.

“I heard my old friends are in trouble. On behalf of the Holy See, I wish to express my gratitude.”

All the Inquisition Officers and exorcist priests’ master.

A living history of the cult.

He was the High Priest.

—

Initially, I couldn’t believe it. To be more precise, I doubted if he was indeed the real deal.

While the High Priest is a well-known figure, I had never seen the real thing before. After all, there are hardly any photos of him, and only a few portraits remain, so you can imagine how rare that is.

“Are you really the High Priest that I know?”

My question bore the weight of unashamed suspicion, yet the High Priest merely smiled lightly, as if understanding.

“Question and question again. It’s a good attitude. Certainty stems from doubt. Only when we dispel the unease in our hearts can we truly nurture greater certainty.”

Though his reply was off the mark, his demeanor was very relaxed.

His smile never fading, the High Priest added softly.

“There will be many who can vouch for my identity, but the most trustworthy will undoubtedly be the Duke of the Smirnov family.”

“Are you suggesting I should hear it directly from him?”

“Isn’t that the slowest yet most reliable form of verification?”

I cast a glance at Camila, who shrugged her shoulders once. It was a gesture suggesting ‘Let’s believe him for now.’

“It seems no one is injured….”

The High Priest, still adorned with his gentle smile, held his staff as he leisurely passed by the crowd.

However, when he suddenly fixed his gaze on the front train car, he halted in his tracks.

“Hmm.”

During his observation of something across, the High Priest suddenly wore a strange smile.

The staff in his hand rose high above his head, and the moment it struck the ground—

– ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ !!!

A dazzling light filled the carriage.

The train, which had been racing along the tracks, jolted violently as if it were in a wave.

As if shaking a rope fixed to a pillar, the train swayed up and down, then began to speed along the rails as if nothing had happened.

“That should do it.”

Leaving behind the wide-eyed passengers, the High Priest turned to us as he detached his staff.

“It seems we shall travel quietly until the next station.”

Still bearing that gentle smile.

—

To sum it up, the man was not just the High Priest, but genuinely the High Priest himself.

“Was it really him?”

“Yeah. Seems like we finally met, kiddo.”

At the next stop, Duke Alexandra confirmed his identity.

Perhaps having heard the news about a hoard of rebels mixed into the train, the Duke had teleported directly here, repeatedly reaching out to his disciples. His affection for them was quite evident.

“When you tapped the ground with your staff, the train swayed like a rope bridge!”

“While divinity and magic power in itself are meaningless, depending on the user’s intention, they can manifest as physical force, just like your magic turns into flames.”

“I’m not strong enough to lift the train off the tracks….”

“Are you a fire mage or an earth mage? If you want to move the train, learn magic from another elemental field.”

Camila, bursting with excitement as she recounted the scene, became deflated upon receiving the master’s half-hearted lecture, crumpling like an old piece of fish.

Passing by such a disciple, the Duke approached the High Priest and offered a greeting.

“My disciple has received your assistance. Thank you.”

“It was but the natural act of a human being, so don’t mention it.”

The High Priest chuckled sheepishly, as though embarrassed by the gratitude.

Then the Duke tossed aside his previously polite demeanor and began to sulk with a disgusted expression.

“Your speech hasn’t changed, has it? Even after being told to adjust it.”

“Is it hard on the ears?”

“Of course! You speak in a manner that belongs to centuries ago.”

“My apologies. If it bothers you, I can give you a needle and thread to sew your ears shut.”

“Would it be more beneficial for you to keep your mouth closed or for me to sew up your ears?”

“…….”

Tch. As I testified to the police, I couldn’t help but squint at the Duke and High Priest.

Do they really know each other? They might have some acquaintance, but it doesn’t seem like they were just friends.

In any case.

The train, which had reached its next stop, was scheduled to remain there for quite some time. All lines of ‘Al-Raed,’ including the train we had boarded, had ceased operations temporarily.

As a side note, the combatants from the rebel group who were subdued by the High Priest while crossing the border had been handed over to the local military.

According to reports from the embassy, these combatants had come from abroad to cooperate with the local warlord and were essentially mercenaries.

Not only was their motive for illegal immigration nefarious, but many armed police who had boarded the train for inspections were killed by them, and someone also died from being hit by a water tank cover on the train (I heard they took the fingerprints of those they caught immediately), and it was said they would soon be executed. Not a death sentence, though.

“I wonder why they killed that person… What does the embassy say?”

“They claim they murdered him because they thought their identities might be revealed. The deceased, living right in the middle of a civil war zone, apparently had tattoos on their body that gave them away. They got suspicious talking with the stewardess and ended up chasing him down to kill him.”

“Really? That’s unfortunate….”

Of course, it remains a mystery what kind of conversation occurred between the stewardess and the victim, and whether the victim truly caught onto the rebels’ identities.

The embassy couldn’t ascertain that part either. I suspect it’s quite likely they’ll just wash their hands of it without any further investigation.

In any case, the eagerly anticipated 6-night, 7-day trip had vanished in less than a single night.

With new connections.

“So, where exactly are we headed to spend that expensive train fare on?”

I lightly tapped the Duke on the shoulder, mulling over the report I had to draft for the company.

Camila, who had been busy bickering with the High Priest, restored her genteel poise to explain the destination.

And I.

“Oh.”

Let out a tiny groan with the world’s most despondent face.

“Damn it…”

Of all the countries, why did it have to be there?