A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The heat of the desert was scorching.

The distant land of Africa in summer has a different kind of sweltering heat compared to the sweltering summers of Korea, even if you just stand still.

I draped my jacket over the desk and initiated the conversation.

“Hey, how’s life in a foreign land?”

“It’s a pain in the ass.”

“What exactly is a pain in the ass?”

“Well, the food doesn’t suit my taste. My stomach feels queasy. It’s hot. Even with a mosquito net, those damn mosquitoes swarm in. And if you drink bad water, you’ll get diarrhea.”

The Oriental man seated on the bed pouted like a duck. Holding a gift in my hand, I offered some comforting words.

“But you chose this life, didn’t you? Look, I’ve brought you that pack of your favorite cigarettes, so tough it out.”

“Oh shit. Sweet, sweet. Let’s see if I can enjoy the smell of domestic goods again.”

The man who had been sprawled out like a dead rat quickly sat up and tore open the packaging. With a cigarette hanging from his mouth, he glanced at me and nodded.

I naturally pulled out my Zippo lighter and lit it for him. The Oriental man took a deep drag like a traveler discovering an oasis, then inhaled deeply. After savoring the taste for a while, he let out a satisfied laugh and exhaled smoke.

“Domestic cigarettes are the best! The ones here smell like buffalo burps, can’t even smoke them!”

“Ugh. You should quit already. Smoking two packs a day isn’t going to help you save money. Tsk tsk.”

I pulled a chair over to the desk. There was a bag on it, and in bold letters, it read ‘PRESS’. I cleared the bothersome bag, sat down, and faced the Oriental man.

The war correspondent flicked his cigarette and asked me, “So, what trouble brought you here this time?”

“Same old, same old.”

“Is your executive director here too?”

“Hey, let’s not pry too much. You know, people who shouldn’t be asking too many questions do keep poking around—it’s a habit of mine.”

“Security is a pain in the ass… Back when I was your age, I was dragged in by the security agency too, got slapped around by the National Intelligence Service! Damn it.”

“You became a journalist when it changed to the Military Security Command, what do you mean security?”

“That’s what I meant!”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. Anyway, since we met after a long time, let’s catch up on world news. Our Korean newspaper’s international department’s Hong journalist.”

As always, I smiled broadly and crossed my legs. The Oriental man looked at me, grumbling to himself.

The war correspondent asked, “What are you curious about?”

“Do you know the Shinkorobi mine in the southern Khatanka region?”

“…Shinkorobi? The one where uranium comes from? Yeah, I know it. Why?”

“I’m just wondering if you have any contacts around there.”

“Most of the war correspondents are heading east, not south. You know there are rebels swarming over there. But the south is under government army control, right? What reason would I have to go there? Besides, the uranium that comes out of there is for the north—”

“Shut it.”

I interrupted him.

“Do you have a contact or not?”

Then I swayed a bundle of dollars I pulled from my pocket. The war correspondent swallowed hard, staring at the bundle of cash shaking in front of him.

“Uh, uh, yeah. I don’t have anyone at the moment, but if you give me some time, I can connect you.”

“How will you connect me?”

“There’s a local guy in the capital involved in tourism. He’s from the south. If you want, I can connect you not just to Shinkorobi but also to Pungurme.”

“How much?”

“A week. Just one week.”

“I’ll give you three days. And I don’t need Pungurme. That place is filled with Chinese. I’m only interested in the reds.”

I slid the stack of dollars into the journalist’s upper pocket and stood up, gathering my jacket as I prepared to leave.

I advised the war correspondent while buttoning up my coat.

“Don’t dig too deep this time. It’s dangerous. Just find out what you can and pass it back to me. If anything goes wrong, contact the embassy.”

“Got it. Okay, okay. I’m not your wife, no need to nag…”

His familiar grumbling made me smile.

As I reached for the doorknob to exit, the moment I turned the handle,

The world turned upside down.

I fell into darkness.

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

Guided by the journalist who handed me his business card, I arrived at a building situated in the city center.

I took the elevator up with the journalist and stepped through the door he opened.

It was an office.

And there, I met someone very familiar.

“Hey! Journalist!”

As I waved my hand cheerfully and raised my voice, everyone sitting in the office turned to look at me. Among the many desks filled with papers, a bald man shot me a glance.

He greeted me warmly.

“Hey you bastard! How old do you think I am, calling me a journalist still!”

“Oh come on. It’s nice to see you after such a long time!”

The bald journalist shouted to the other reporters around him.

“Hey! Pack up and get out!”

“Yes, Chief!”

At the bald man’s words, a flock of journalists packed their things and rushed out of the office. Now, it was just me and the bald man left in the vast, empty office.

I grabbed any chair nearby and sat down, casually glancing at the nameplate on the desk.

“Wow… Editor of the social affairs department? Last time I saw you, you were just a journalist; you’ve moved up in the world?”

The bald man chuckled and sat down opposite me.

“Did you think I’d wither away?”

I smiled as I looked at the bald man.

“When I heard you got caught by the police, I thought they’d find you dead in some river.”

“Oh come on….”

“Were you happy eating that prison food?”

“Shut up with that nonsense. What do you want me to do? Huh? Can’t really smack you around.”

The bald man picked up the staff next to him and spat out something endearing.

“Why are you carrying a staff? Did you hurt yourself while hiking?”

“My knee gave out, damn it. Got beaten by the police.”

The former major press social affairs journalist, now an imperial journalist, tapped his right knee with his fist.

I leaned forward and looked at his limp leg under the desk. After a moment’s hesitation, I posed a question.

“Knee stomp?”

“Yeah.”

“That must’ve hurt.”

“Thanks to that, I’m a crip now. Lost my job too.”

“At least you’re not in a wheelchair! As long as you didn’t die, that’s good.”

“Thanks a lot…!”

The former social affairs chief of the minor media empire bent so low it almost looked like his nose was touching the desk.

“It’s really nice to see you again; thanks for poking at my injuries, scruffy!”

“What else can we say?”

I sat across from the press chief, chuckling.

With a middle-aged man and a fresh-faced young man doing this together, it was undeniably an inappropriate scene, but I was cool with it.

“It’s good to see you. Really good….”

The journalist for the five major media outlets of the Kien Empire and the social affairs chief of a minor media outlet, a blocks-away muckraker who could expose politicians and bureaucrats with his investigative reporting.

Thanks to him, he’s now targeted by the Imperial Guard HQ as a 반(反) regime media person,

Dmitri.

“Have you been well all this time?”

“How well could I have been?”

“You look fine.”

He’s my informant.