A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Frederick was gazing at the clouds drifting lazily by.

You see, when it comes to tailing and surveillance, one should never fix their gaze too obviously in one direction while doing the job.

Even the mildest sense of discomfort that one would normally overlook suddenly becomes a crucial clue for someone on high alert.

Thus, Frederick’s eyes danced around without lingering in one spot.

He scanned the entire park, occasionally shifting his gaze to the ice cream cart, peeking at passersby and citizens enjoying their day on the grass.

“…Yawn.”

Leaning back on the bench, Frederick let out a long yawn, smacking his lips as he rose to his feet.

He tucked the neatly folded newspaper under his armpit and rubbed his sleepy eyelids, trudging along like a worn-out office worker.

If it were a habit, this would be a peculiar sort of one, forged out of surviving by working as a spy.

Yeah. You know how it is. Always feeling tired and sleepy about everything.

Whenever someone asks him to do something, he’ll grumble, “Why me?” or “Geez, can’t it be someone else?”

He couldn’t help but glance toward anyone casting suspicious looks or any foreigner who stood out among the locals.

“Ah, finally feeling a bit lively….”

In the park of Shizuya, flooded by the scorching sun, Frederick, with his sunglasses hiding his dazzling eyes, tucked the newspaper inside his jacket and quickened his pace towards the park’s interior.

—

Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?

The man observed the surreal streams of water sprouting from the Persian-style fountain.

Though he wasn’t a philosopher, nor a romantic who relished in introspection,

the exotic aura radiating from the fountain at Timarshak Park helped ease his nerves that were soaked in unease.

“…….”

With his short stature and round glasses, his prominent belly resembled that of a jolly fellow who frequented a gym just to socialize rather than exercise.

But if one were to see his thick fingers and sturdy hands, plus the strong neck, anyone who understood fitness would have guessed he was built like a brawler. Zigmund was indeed a man that fit that image.

Zigmund swept his moustache aside, wrapping his hand around his jaw.

It almost looked like he was resting his chin on his hand, but a closer inspection revealed his restless eyes darting between comings and goings.

-Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the second hand moving echoed across his wrist as his gaze flicked sideways with a speed far exceeding that of the clock’s rhythmic ticking.

“…….”

In the midst of the crowd noise blending with the ticking, a woman approached, causing his otherwise busy eyes to drop downward.

It might be considered a tad inappropriate for a married man, but the woman exuded a strange aura. He sensed it instinctively.

As the woman finally settled down on the bench, placing her shoulder bag beside her, Zigmund maintained his silence, hiding his jaw, while she spoke in a low voice as if to herself.

“The sky is quite clear today.”

Though likely just a mutter for herself, Zigmund didn’t let the words slip by unnoticed.

“But, we should carry an umbrella. You never know when a rain shower might come.”

Her short monologue of what barely passed for a conversation concluded as she seemed to have made a decision, turning back to Zigmund.

The outfit, enveloping her from head to toe, hid her face completely, which held various meanings in Ashtistan. At least two, casually speaking.

Unlike the Lussari who unveil their faces, the niqab is usually worn by those hailing from conservative families, symbolizing religious beliefs and hinting at being the daughter of a traditional household.

Or maybe…

“A gray briefcase. Brown and beige wingtip shoes. 1 PM at the central fountain in Timarshak Park.”

“…….”

“Are you the Domoboy?”

He certainly needed to keep his identity concealed, yet Zigmund leaned back against the bench, hoping to calm his nerves with a quiet sigh.

And with a very natural intonation of Kien, he began to speak.

“You’ve come quite far from Petrogard.”

—

Had it been barely two days since he confirmed his arrival in Shizuya? Zigmund expelled the air trapped in his lungs.

“I didn’t expect you to want to meet just after I reached out to check on you.”

Have you unpacked since arriving yet?

Without hesitation, he continued the interrogation as if addressing an old acquaintance he hadn’t seen for a while.

“I waited at the hotel.”

“I didn’t realize I’d kept you waiting for long.”

The woman and Zigmund exchanged words.

Of course, they were meeting for the first time today, and this wasn’t a relationship to inquire about one another’s well-being. Yet neither Zigmund nor the woman valued such empty formalities.

The woman in a niqab kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as she spoke.

“I was from the insurance company. A week ago, you requested our assistance, didn’t you?”

Zigmund slightly shook his head.

Downward, upward. Just once, at a leisurely pace.

“Are you from the Asset Management Team?”

“Claims Adjuster.”

As Zigmund gently closed his eyes, his brain began translating her words.

“Insurance company” was a metaphor for the Imperial Guard HQ, the Kien Empire’s pride. Originally, the building housing the Guard HQ had been owned by an insurance company right in the heart of Petrogard.

Naturally, the Guard HQ earned the nickname “insurance company,” and its internal departments also adopted similar names.

As for the 2nd Bureau dealing with overseas information and clandestine operations, they called themselves “Asset Management.”

The 1st Bureau, which handled domestic intel, counterintelligence investigations, and industrial security, was dubbed “Claims Adjuster.”

Of course, these nicknames weren’t coined by the Guard HQ itself. Like most agencies, they utilized the names of the locations where their offices stood.

What that meant was…

“So you’re one of those scary folks who catch spies. Should I start getting scared?”

“That depends on how you handle it.”

This meant she was an operative from a foreign information agency.

As Zigmund was just about to smile, thinking how bold she was, a sudden envelope dropped beside him.

“Here’s the warp gate ticket for the 2:30 PM flight to Petrogard, along with a forged identification.”

The woman handed over the envelope, speaking clearly and with precision.

“The passport you hold might attract attention, so discard it and use the ID I just gave you. The Immigration Office is straight east, and you’ll come across the subway station. Take the minivan with the license plate 83L729-11. It will take you there. Since there’s a long way to go, you should leave right away. I’ll take care of moving your luggage.”

“…….”

“You’d better hurry. Your uncle is waiting.”

Once she finished her words, the woman began gathering her belongings.

Timarshak Park was an open space. They shouldn’t linger here too long. Not the Domoboy, nor Zigmund himself.

But, just as the woman was about to hastily make her exit, she found herself unable to take a step forward. More specifically, she couldn’t leave her spot.

An unexpected variable had arisen.

“It’s impossible.”

“…What do you mean?”

She had turned her head slightly toward Zigmund as she tried to get away from the fountain.

“I asked what you meant by impossible.”

“My family is here.”

“…Family?”

The pupils behind the niqab sparkled sharply. Zigmund tossed the passport and ticket he had taken out of the envelope onto the bench, as if indicating they were useless.

The agent from the Imperial Guard HQ asked in a flustered voice.

“What do you mean by that? You clearly stated you were alone when we contacted you yesterday.”

Zigmund gave a nod without saying a word. Though it appeared to be a nonchalant demeanor, she realized it was a gesture meant to evade giving an answer.

He was aware that the Domoboy was married but hadn’t heard anything about him bringing his family along. Especially not during the arrangement of the meeting place and time the day prior.

The agent from the Imperial Guard HQ muttered in irritation.

“You’ve deceived us.”

The woman in the niqab shot Zigmund a suspicious glare. In response, Zigmund raised his hands in submission, as if to say, “Feel free to think whatever.”

“Think whatever you like. Oh, and don’t misunderstand, I have no ill intentions.”

“Your words are a bit contradictory.”

The Imperial Guard HQ agent shot back, asking if he didn’t trust them, but Zigmund shook his head, maintaining his calm face.

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have come all the way here.”

“In that case, we’ll ensure your family is safe. So let’s leave, right away.”

“Thanks for the offer but I must decline.”

Zigmund replied.

“Take care of your family first. I’ll leave as soon as I finish my business here.”

“And what business is that?”

“I have something I must retrieve. It’s a gift your superiors will appreciate, though the problem is that I haven’t secured the evidence yet.”

The agent from the Imperial Guard HQ took a deep breath in and let it out.

“If you keep being uncooperative, we’ll have no choice but to withdraw.”

“Do as you please. Just remember how much I’ve assisted your management staff internally up to this point.”

“…….”

Zigmund maintained an assertive demeanor throughout.

While it was possible he was trying to inflate his worth for an escape plan or was wary of the Imperial Guard HQ, the directive from the Director was simply to “bring him safely to the Kien Empire.”

There was but one reason: the Domoboy possessed “some kind of information.”

Though nobody knew exactly what that information was, nor how critical it might be. Only the Director had such knowledge.

Yet, the order stating “to offer any convenience during the defection process and not to worry about any incurred costs” had been passed down, which left her with no alternatives.

“…….”

As her thoughts settled at that point, she spoke in a softened tone.

“Where is your family now?”

—

The two girls craving ice cream were earnestly tugging at their mother.

“Mom, Mom! Can we get ice cream!”

“Again? Lucy, you just had some.”

“But it’s a new flavor…. Henya wants some.”

To clarify, they were ‘two girls who wanted new ice cream.’

Having given in to their pleas right after stepping out of the hotel, they wolfed down all the ice cream on the way to the park, only to start begging for more.

That’s why their mother had a briefly troubled expression.

Yet how could one ever halt their children’s snacking desires? There are no parents who can win against their kids. With her gown hem tugged by the sparkling-eyed children, she couldn’t help but smile and lightly pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Ow.”

“Pick your flavors but don’t eat too much. You’ll get cavities, you know?”

“Thank you, Mom!”

The two girls beamed joyfully as they dashed toward the ice cream cart.

Seeing that, their startled mother rushed to catch her darting children.

“Wait a moment, kiddos! Let’s go together.”

The reason their mother held onto her two daughters was quite simple. They couldn’t speak the common language of the Mauritania Continent.

The Mauritania Continental common language was notoriously difficult to learn. Much like Arabic, it was infamous for its unique script, hard-to-pronounce sounds, and complex grammatical structures. Let alone the Ashtistani language, which belonged to an entirely different language family.

Fortunately, she had some knowledge of Kien, not as well as her mother tongue, but reasonably fluent enough to get by.

The girls couldn’t manage it as adeptly as she did, but they could at least comprehend a bit. They understood quite a few simple phrases and words.

“…….”

The woman began walking to the stand, scanning her surroundings slowly.

Though she had rarely encountered Ashtistani people thus far, sticking mainly to less crowded paths, she knew she’d have to be more cautious moving forward.

The once-rambunctious girls had suddenly quieted down, holding onto their mother’s hand tightly as they walked to the ice cream stand.

“What flavor do you want?”

The children pointed silently at the illustrated ice creams.

Just as the woman, speaking in crisp Kien, prepared to chat with an Ashtistani, a thought crossed her mind.

“…?”

The girl, Henya, who was holding her mother’s hand, suddenly tilted her head in confusion and began whispering quietly to Lucy.

“Sis, Sis.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look at what that guy is holding.”

Lucy turned her gaze, following Henya’s gesture, spotting the item in the man’s hand.

“It looks just like what Dad has.”

“Wow….”

The two girls giggled as if they were witnessing an amusing spectacle.

At the sight of their cheerful smiles, the man waved in the direction of Henya and Lucy. He waved enthusiastically.

It seemed that was quite amusing to him. The girls responded by flapping their hands back at him.

The woman, engrossed in conversation with the stand owner, belatedly noticed her daughters fussing and quickly bowed her head toward the man, apologizing.

“I’m sorry, sir. The children can be quite mischievous….”

“Not at all. They’re at that age, aren’t they?”

The man chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.

“Kids will be kids.”

“Thank you for your understanding.”

The man in formal attire was speaking what appeared to be very fluent Kien. He likely hailed from the Kien Empire. Without a doubt, his Kien was flawlessly standard.

“Are you on a trip? With family?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds lovely. Shizuya has plenty to see. There are lots of festivals and events that the children would enjoy. If only you’d come a bit earlier, you could have tasted everything available right after sunset, but it’s currently Ramadan.”

Though her mouth smiled, her heart raced rapidly. She worried that her accent might be compared.

While conversing with Ashtistani locals wasn’t a concern, standing right next to a native made her think her accent and tone would be distinctive.

She had to just get the ice cream and head back quickly.

“The change is fine.”

The woman calmly handed over some cash, graciously refusing the change. In that moment, a smile blossomed on the vendor’s face.

The two girls politely bowed to the vendor. Of course, they did to the man too.

“Thank you, kids.” “If you need any help, feel free to ask me?”

The man turned to the woman, inquiring if she needed assistance.

“You were just looking around a bit. I thought maybe you needed something.”

The woman maintained an air of indifference, shaking her head.

She firmly added, “No, thank you, but I’ll pass. You take care, sir.”

It was evidently clear that he wasn’t an Ashtistani; he shrugged off the boisterous waving from moments ago.

Then, he nodded in response.

“Honestly, it’s best to accept help whenever it’s offered.”

With a grin, he rolled his wrist a few times and tucked his PDA into his pocket while adding,

“Don’t end up in jail on a spy charge and have everyone around suffer, okay?”