A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Leading the Unofficial Disguised Individuals, I infiltrate the Magic Tower under the guise of a Defense Attaché to find the mastermind behind sending spies.

So far, all operations are progressing smoothly. I am slowly approaching the target, and my disguise has not been discovered.

However, what I did not anticipate was that our target is linked with allied information agencies and that another empire’s military intelligence agency is also chasing after them.

This is an unforeseen situation. Who would have thought that various intelligence agencies would get tangled over a single target?

It’s like having one cake but three mouths. Even my mischievous friend next to me is itching for just a bite. Whether he actually wants just a taste or plans to sneak away with the whole thing is anyone’s guess.

Ultimately, what matters is the result.

I’ve said it repeatedly: processes and logic are irrelevant. Reports contain only outcomes and the achievements resulting from those outcomes.

In the end, that’s all that remains.

Time until the moment that decides the future of this operation: five days.

If I don’t want to lick the plates left behind by others, I need to start running like a dog from this moment on.

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Spy, Soldier

Camila wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead and shook her hands.

“It’s not as hot as I thought, huh?”

“Of course. Isn’t it ridiculous for a magician to get hurt by their own magic?”

Camila twirled her wrist and stretched out her arms to cast magic again. With a booming sound, a spray of water shot up in the middle of the pool.

I couldn’t help but applaud at the sight.

“That’s amazing.”

“Hehe.”

Camila scratched her head, perhaps embarrassed by the compliment. It’s hard to believe that her magic, barely three months since she learned it, could exhibit such scale and power. I’ve seen her abilities countless times during the barren land operation, but I still find myself in awe of her talents.

Considering that in my 28 years of life, the only magic I’ve truly witnessed was my sister’s magic, which I’d wish to erase from the records, Camila’s skills were impressive even to someone like me, who knows little about magic.

I handed her a fluffy towel, soaked from the pool.

“With that much talent, you can feel free to brag a bit.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

Having lived a life far removed from magic, I know well how difficult it is to learn this art, thanks to the aspiring magic officers I met upon commissioning and my lazy sister lounging around at home.

Magic is expensive, time-consuming, and its future hinges on talent. It’s akin to physical arts in that regard.

And just like in those fields, the number of individuals who succeed after fierce competition is minuscule.

Still, if you manage to find a middle ground, job opportunities are somewhat available, making it a bit brighter than the performing arts. But how does it feel to live as a struggling employee while everyone else is raking in high salaries?

At least in the case of the arts and sciences, you could get away with being told you fell behind due to studying less. But due to magic being a field where talent is prioritized over effort, even casually uttering such a statement in front of a close friend could lead to trouble—real trouble. In fact, many murders happen for that very reason. It’s strange that my incredibly talented and high-scoring sister lives as an idle person.

I’m not a magician, so I don’t know all the ins and outs of that industry, but I have gathered enough bits and pieces to be generally informed.

Looking at Camila as she prepared for the next spell, I casually threw out a question.

“Is there anything you’re curious about? Like magic or maybe the Magic Tower?”

“Umm, no? Not right now.”

“You mentioned you had a question last time.”

“I’ll ask it later! This isn’t exactly the place to be asking those questions.”

“…?”

Camila waved her fingertips, showing off a bright smile. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted to ask.

Regardless, it was abundantly clear that she was a person with unreasonable abilities.

Many information officers sent overseas by the Military Intelligence Agency bore testament to that.

Every morning, half the news coming through secure lines concerns information activities from various defense ministries linked to Camila. They mostly aim to collect information about her abilities.

As if that weren’t enough, several military intelligence agencies with sufficient technological prowess were launching cyber attacks on the Military Intelligence Agency’s servers, so the interest in Camila was evident beyond needing explanation.

Perhaps, with information agencies all heated up, they might attempt to make contact with her. For now, Colonel Clevenz plans to obstruct that at the organizational level, though whether that can truly be stopped remains questionable. Honestly, I doubt it’s achievable.

…Still.

It feels like there’s no need for undue worry.

“……”

“Ho-it!”

That’s probably the case.

—

After finishing my caretaker duties for Camila, I returned to my duties as an Operative.

Having roughly sketched the situation, I simply needed to add some details and draw up a quick plan. Of course, saying it’s easy doesn’t mean the life of an operative is simple at all.

“Manager. I found the schedule.”

“Is that so? Let’s see it.”

The first document I checked from Jake revealed where Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter was headed.

Although the Academy sounds like a university when one hears the name, in reality, it belongs to secondary educational institutions akin to middle and high schools in South Korea, making it necessary to inform parents of the academic schedule through a newsletter.

And like any typical newsletter, the back contained intricate details.

“What was the affiliation of the listed individual 51?”

“Class 7.”

“Class 7… No absentees noted. Is the schedule definitely as indicated here?”

“Yes. I’ve contacted all the accommodations and restaurants reserved by the academy’s staff. Unless there are significant changes, it should proceed as outlined.”

Jake reported all intelligence collected by the Human Intelligence Team to me.
For reference, the Human Intelligence Team gathered this information merely through a few investigations. Knowing that Jake’s report didn’t show any evidence of bribing sources with money in the expense records, I’m confident about this.

This neighborhood manages personal data terribly, making it quite convenient for work. Just visiting real estate offices will yield the vast majority of information.

“Two nights, three days, staying at a hotel. Wow, they must have money, huh? Back in my day, we just stayed at a hostel.”

“It seems to be a wealthy area, so that’s probably the case.”

“Then we shouldn’t kidnap them near the Academy, right?”

That wasn’t something I was expecting to hear in return.

Of course, it goes without saying that kidnapping a child in a wealthy neighborhood would spell disaster. Such affluent areas generally have better security, making it difficult to escape even if the kidnapping is successful.

I spread a map of the regions noted in the schedule across the hotel bed.

“There are several candidate locations, but two seem strong contenders: the place the kids will stay on the second day and the path they’ll take on their last day.”

It was not just any map but one crafted using materials from the Foreign Police and Magic Tower Police for this operation.

Meaning, it was a map marked to indicate areas with high crime rates versus those with low instances. It also displayed various equipment highlighting checkpoints and crime blind spots.

“Here’s the bustling district. This shopping area is due for redevelopment, so there are plenty of alleys, and fewer surveillance measures. Street lamps are also outdated, leading to a relatively higher crime rate.”

“The newsletter states they’ll stop by this location after dinner.”

Jake pulled out the Magic Tower’s sunrise and sunset timetable. I wondered why such a schedule exists in a place where magic could change day into night.

The public servant who put up the notice had said the wizards who built the Magic Tower aim to let people live without the feeling of being confined indoors, transforming the seasonal environment, but I think that wizard would rise from the grave upon seeing how their designs have become instruments of espionage.

Anyway.

Jake flipped through the timetable and the newsletter alternately.

“The timings are cutting it close with the sunset. But isn’t the police station too close?”

“…Now that you mention it, it is pretty near. A direct distance of about 5.4 km. How long does it take for a wizard to arrive?”

“By vehicle, it would take over 10 minutes, but if they fly in, it’s a different story. We can’t fly away, can we? Not without a wizard.”

It was a reasonable point.

No matter how quickly I run, it’s tough to escape if someone’s following from the skies. Therefore, our options are limited to quietly abducting before someone can report, escape underground to avoid the skies, or prepare for confrontation and fight our way out.

Pippin, scribbling notes while tapping at the terminal beside me, chimed in.

“Our analysts concluded that the last return route is indeed optimal.”

“And the reason?”

“For starters, there’s not a thing within several kilometers of that spot. No surveillance measures and a wide gap in road patrols. The surrounding area is forested, so if necessary, we could choose that path for an exit. Moreover, regarding the schedule, it’s set for dispersal, with each person returning at their own pace, isn’t it?”

Saying it “looks fine” was basically the answer.

This conclusion was reached after the analysts put their heads together, so how likely is that to be incorrect? If they can’t manage such a simple analysis, then they’re not really analysts.

Yet, it’s always good to seek expert opinions.

“Got it. By the way, when’s the protest expected to happen?”

“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs says it’s a week from now. The Royal Intelligence Department holds the same expectation.”

“Jake, open a line for me.”

“Yes, who should I connect you to?”

“Special Activities Department.”

—

After an hour-long voice meeting with the operatives, counterintelligence investigator, technical intelligence officer, and other operatives, I had somewhat outlined the operation. Essentially, I already had a rough sketch in mind, and this was merely a process of incorporating feedback from the responsible officers into my plan.

Of course, the veteran officers’ insights, being intricately layered with experience, were based on valuable discussions.

Where to kidnap, how to do it, who will execute it, what approach to take, when to subdue them, where to transport them, and what to do afterward… Typically, I would suggest something, and the officers would identify problems and propose alternatives.

Thank goodness we have plenty of time. If I had followed along to the medical volunteer event today, I would’ve been stuck in another dawn meeting.

“…Saint?”

“Please just call me Lucia.”

“Oh, sorry about that.”

Just as they say, you talk about someone and they show up; Lucia appeared. I greeted her warmly as we crossed paths in the hotel hallway.

“It seems you returned early today.”

“I concluded my tasks quickly after utilizing all the supplies I had prepared.”

“Oh dear.”

“It seems I will have to stay at the hotel for a while until the next supplies arrive.”

Lucia spoke calmly, indicating she planned to reside in the hotel until more supplies came.

How much had she been roaming around to run out of so many holy water and supplies? It was astounding to think that after exhausting all of that, there were still many waiting for medical aid at the Magic Tower.

Her demeanor toward heading off to conduct more of those difficult medical services was utterly baffling.

“Is everyone else doing fine? It sounds so tiring.”

“Fatigue can be recovered with rest, but how can one stop while fighting the disease?”

“No, I meant the others, not you.”

“They all seemed quite joyful.”

Lucia said this matter-of-factly.

If the saint says everyone’s fine, who would dare argue? Common sense suggests it’s nonsense, but the one spouting such nonsense looked utterly serene.

If someone were to see her, she would appear as a perfectly innocent and benevolent saint. Yet in my eyes, Lucia was no different from a raccoon with a snake in its belly.

She was a woman who knew very well that Raul was trying to use her.

“Is that so.”

I couldn’t fathom what she was thinking.

Veronica and Lucia. Why were both saints behaving like raccoons? It was utterly incomprehensible.

Perhaps it would be easier to just accept that the world has fallen to this sorry state.

“By the way, when will the next supplies arrive?”

“I’ve heard five days from now. It seems sorting and classifying the supplies will take some time, so it might take longer before we can head out for operations again.”

Hmm.

“How long do you think it will take to sort everything?”

“I estimate about three days. I’ll have to stay here for at least a week, it seems.”

A week, huh.

That timing couldn’t be better. I glanced around and quietly approached Lucia.

“…The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is saying that a protest is expected to occur at the Magic Tower soon.”

“A protest, you say?”

“Yes. It’s probably wise to exercise caution for a bit. It seems there’s a radical group troubling the local authorities.”

I had already informed the Inquisition, but it was necessary to let Lucia know, too.

However, I omitted the reasons behind the protest. Understanding that would be the job of the Inquisition guarding Lucia, not hers. I had already conveyed that to them, so keeping her in the dark wasn’t essential.

After considering my words, Lucia lifted her gaze to question me.

“Do you mean to delay the activities?”

“The local police are aware, but the situation on-site doesn’t always proceed according to plan. Your own intentions matter, of course, but it’s wise to keep it in mind.”

“…Understood. Thank you for letting me know.”

Lucia, who had been deep in thought, nodded and expressed her gratitude.

While it was crucial to prioritize my duties, safeguarding Lucia was also one of the significant tasks I couldn’t ignore.

“By the way, does Camila know that a protest is on the way?”

“No, I haven’t informed her yet. The Magic Tower is set to control the protestor’s movements, so she won’t encounter them. I only said to be cautious due to the security gaps in other areas when the protest happens.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

Lucia nodded with a rather composed expression, one devoid of concern.

I found myself wondering if she was just that confident or simply hadn’t thought about safety when she suddenly brightened up, dispelling my suspicions.

“I can protect myself just fine. I haven’t only been sitting idly by in prayer.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“However, if it truly worries you, why not accompany me again this time?”

What a dreadful suggestion.

“Thank you for the offer, but I have other pressing matters to attend to, so it might be hard for me to accompany you for a while. Haha.”

“It seems you have a lot on your plate.”

“Well…”

I smiled easily, just like usual, before responding.

“Works in civil service are simply like that.”