A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The traffic coordination is complete.

I secured concessions from the Cult through Veronica and confirmed Patalia’s stance via Sophia.

The Cult National Affairs Council, the Imperial Royal Family of Kien, the Presidential Palace of Patalia, the Prime Minister’s residence of the Kingdom of Abas, the Magic Tower Oracle, and so on.

I worked diligently to oil the gears so the Government of Abas could slowly untangle its sharply entangled interests. Using information, of course.

Honestly, it felt impossible. Time was too tight.

But I believed I had done as much as I could. The rest would be handled by the government and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I thought we’d see a conclusion in about a week.

But then, quite unexpectedly, results came in just a day.

“Colonel, I brought you a formal notice regarding the preventive schedule.”

In the blink of an eye, traffic coordination was wrapped up.

Success!

—

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

The outcome was successful.

The Cult, the Empire, Patalia, and Abas.

As each government took a step back, a warm breeze began to flow through the chilly diplomatic landscape.

The Cult gained clear security from the Magic Tower while demonstrating flexibility regarding protocol issues, and Patalia promised political and diplomatic support for upcoming issues on the condition that Abas distanced itself from the alchemists.

Additionally, the Empire, fulfilling the Cult’s request, eased the reins of preventive detention, raising domestic and foreign public opinion, while the Magic Tower managed to temporarily calm the anti-government protests that had been facing challenges in suppression. More precisely, they packaged it as a diplomatic achievement of the Magic Tower. Thanks to this, it seems police negotiations with the protest leaders are going to start soon.

War and diplomacy are extensions of politics, and casual exchanges are customary in the political arena.

Politics, diplomacy, economy, society, culture, defense, security, etc. It is evident that countless blank checks that cannot be quantified were exchanged between governments to untangle the intricately knotted interests.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing to explain it this way. Isn’t this what diplomats do after all?

And the reason why this sighing diplomatic scene began to show a gentle breeze was that someone took action to oil the gears.

-“Hey, Frederick. You’ve done a great job.”

“Thank you.”

I replied to Clevenz’s compliment with a calm voice.

-“Really, great effort.”

“It was nothing, really. The diplomats worked much harder.”

It wasn’t flattery.

The diplomats truly had a tougher job. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs had to wrap up all the matters I had stirred with Veronica and Sophia.

I tried hard to oil the gears, but the situation moved so quickly that everyone couldn’t even clock out.

But since all this would count as their achievements, the diplomats weren’t completely exhausted.

In other words, I wouldn’t receive any credit for this.

At least, not officially.

Just as I thought, Clevenz brought up the topic of a commendation.

-“You’ll get a commendation as soon as you return.”

“A commendation?”

-“The Director is recommending a commendation to the Office of the Prime Minister. According to the dispatched staff, it seems likely to pass smoothly.”

A commendation.

It’s rare for an Information Agency Agent to receive a commendation—usually awarded to employees with significant achievements. In South Korea, agents from the National Intelligence Service or the Defense Security Command typically send it to the Ministry of the Interior for review, but here, it seems it is sent to the Office of the Prime Minister for review.

I don’t know what it is, but since it went up to the Office of the Prime Minister, it looks like a commendation being awarded at the government level rather than the agency’s internal recognition.

Anyway, I decided to graciously accept it with the mindset of “good things are good.”

“Ah… I see. Thank you.”

-“Yes. Somehow, we extinguished the urgent blaze. It seems your business is also progressing well… So, what’s the next plan?”

“For now, I’m thinking of preparing to welcome the guests.”

—

The definitions of fire vary widely.

From the scientific view defining it as a phenomenon of oxidation, to practical approaches that seek to find ways to utilize it in daily life and industry. The definition of fire differs across fields.

It’s the same with conceptual approaches. Fire is treated as the most important symbol in culture and religion.

A grateful existence that spreads warmth. The intense impression derived from color and shape. Deadly beauty.

Like the story from Greco-Roman mythology, where fire was stolen from the gods and gifted to humanity, fire has been an object of worship since ancient times, transcending eras and religions.

Honestly, stripped of all that complicated narrative, isn’t it just beautiful? There’s a reason we have campfires every time we go to a retreat.

Camila had similar thoughts.

“…Wow.”

It’s certainly a flame that conveys warmth, but oddly enough, it isn’t hot at all. When she holds a piece of paper to the flame that wraps around her finger, it’d definitely catch fire, but strangely, her other fingers remained unharmed.

Though this phenomenon was commonplace in this town, she found it incredibly fascinating.

So, she began experimenting, trying to see how far she could take it by throwing everything she could find into the fire.

She burned paper, she burned cloth, she was familiar with snacks and chocolates, even grilled some meat, and when picking up fallen hair, she dared to poke at loose threads. She even went so far as to put her own tongue into the flames, running out of things to burn.

In the midst of this,

“What are you doing?”

“Ah…!”

Camila jolted at the sudden voice from behind her which made her flinch.

She bit her tongue.

“Are you playing with fire again? I told you not to do that indoors.”

“Ugh….”

“Did you just bite your tongue?”

“…Uh.”

“Oh dear….”

I sighed deeply and handed her a potion.

“Apply this with your finger, carefully.”

“W-What is this?”

“Medicine.”

I had visited to convey some messages only to catch her fiddling with fire indoors. I cannot understand why one would use magic inside. It’s not like she’s a child.

As I unbuttoned my jacket, I looked at Camila with a disapproving glare.

“If you want to use magic, go to the rooftop where the pool is. It’s safe because there’s water.”

“N-No.”

“If you’re really bored, you could also go for a short walk outside; the area around the hotel is safe.”

Though I spoke like this, I understand. Generally, first-time magic users like her display such reactions.

Magic is like a lottery; you never know when it might bloom. Some infants can use magic straight from the womb, while others learn late while attending an academy and change their career path.

Typically, abilities awake before entering school, but perhaps due to her immature mental age, those who discover how to manipulate magic tend to use it at all times.

They freeze tableware during meals, set off flames while bathing, use telekinesis when playing with toys, or even scare family members at dawn by moving their shadows for fun.

Camila, looking by the way she’s acting, might be in that very stage of first discovering magic, which makes her curious and prompts such behaviors. Or perhaps, it’s just her nature to be inquisitive.

In the end, I had only this to say.

“Please be careful from now on.”

“Yes, I will.”

“It seems your tongue has recovered.”

I neatly folded my jacket’s ends and sat down on the sofa.

True to the reputation of this resort town, the hotel’s interior was dreamlike. The quality of the furnishings was exquisite.

As I sat in silence, Camila finally looked at me with restored vitality.

“What brings you here?”

“I have a message to deliver. I’ve called Lucia too, so I’ll tell you once everyone is gathered.”

While it wouldn’t be bad to inform Camila beforehand about my meeting with Francesca Ranieri, it was too cumbersome to explain twice, and settling it all at once seemed the best option.

Dividing the cautions could lead to confusion.

“So, what did you do today?”

“Same as always. Practiced magic, read books, and kept up with the news and newspapers.”

That was Camila’s daily routine.

It was a way for someone who just unlocked their magic to pass the time.

There were no issues with that. For a beginner, that is the standard approach, and also perhaps due to her innate affinity for magic, she was demonstrating an astonishing growth rate even after just a few weeks of practice.

Her growth rate peaked specifically during the No Man’s Land barren land operation. I’m not sure what the mechanism is, but it’s remarkable how she grows daily by beating down monsters all day long.

“Hmm.”

Should I consider it akin to gaining experience points like in a game when catching monsters, or should I regard it as accumulated growth as if developing muscles through constant effort? If only I had specialized in magic, I could articulate it better.

I gazed at Camila, tidying up the burnt debris, and posed a question.

“Aren’t you feeling stifled? You’ve been cooped up in the hotel for so long.”

“Not particularly. I’m not that troubled.”

So she says.

With a mindset of “good will is good,” I picked up a newspaper sprawled on the side of the sofa.

The first section that caught my eye was the political and international news.

“What are you reading?”

“Just stories about current events. Anything interesting happen today?”

“Uh….”

Camila paused, brushing her hands together as she thought.

After resting her hand on her chin and considering for a while, she began to stutter over her words.

“W-What was it? The word slipped my mind.”

“Ratman?”

“Ah, yes! That’s it! An animal that looks like Jerry after eating drugs instead of milk!”

What a bizarre metaphor. I interpreted it as simply meaning “ugly.”

As Camila stepped closer, she flipped the newspaper and pointed to a specific second-column article on the social page with her finger.

“What’s this?”

“Seems the Ratman is causing trouble crawling around the sewers. Is it a pest? I’ve never seen an animal like that.”

“Ah….”

I briefly diverted my gaze from the newspaper to recall the basic information briefing that Pippin had provided.

Apparently, this phenomenon occurred from the interaction of pharmaceuticals dumped illegally by wizards in the Magic Tower and the experimental animals they released. I had heard it was considered a significant social issue by the Magic Tower.

“This is just an environmental issue. It’s a bit complicated to explain in detail.”

“…They’re apparently biting people’s ankles and even kidnapping children, and you’re calling it an ‘environmental’ issue?”

Camila looked at me as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

I shrugged my shoulders without replying. What exactly do you expect in a world without romance?

“That’s the cause of the environmental pollution.”

“…Can’t we go catch this thing? It seems easier than capturing monsters.”

“You shouldn’t go wandering into the sewers carelessly. Forget permissions; it’s also a matter of needing proper guidance from the public sewer management agency. Sometimes strange things come out besides the Ratman, and you need to prepare adequately.”

“What do you mean by ‘strange things?'”

“There are plenty. Man-eating plants, slimes, Ratmen, crocodiles… sometimes even moving corpses. The expanse is vast, and many people go missing.”

This is the harsh reality of the Magic Tower. It’s easier than a dungeon run. If you think of the Magic Tower like something out of a romantic fantasy novel, you’ll be sorely mistaken.

Of course, I did sprinkle in a bit of MSG. I had to ensure Camila didn’t get hurt wandering into a labyrinthine sewer. If she disappeared, that would be an even bigger problem.

But then, Camila’s eyes began to sparkle with curiosity.

“Where can I get permission?”

“Are you actually thinking of going?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth…?”

“People are suffering.”

I was left speechless by her absurd answer. There were many questions I wanted to ask, but ultimately, only a foolish question slipped out.

“Isn’t it gross?”

Camila replied with a nonchalant expression.

“Pfft. I used to enjoy hunting as a hobby, you know?”

Hunting? Isn’t that a sport for the nobility?

I briefly pondered over British culture, as my father had a subordinate who served as a Defense Attaché in the UK, so I had some knowledge of British customs.

As the birthplace of modern sports, Britain has a vibrant sports culture with everything from football on TV every day, to equestrian events, polo, cricket, and hunting—there’s nothing left out.

To my knowledge, football and cricket are national sports loved by all Britons, while equestrian sports, polo, and hunting are more high-class sports enjoyed only by the upper class.

With my friend being well-acquainted with the Premier League and having been led to bet by local residents, it seems they made some profits, even though they eventually lost their whole salary.

But I hadn’t heard much about horseback riding, polo, and hunting. I’d heard that those hobbies are incredibly expensive in British terms, and hence quite ‘posh.’

So, they’re merely pursuits enjoyed by the upper class.

“…….”

Thus, it seemed Camila came from a fairly affluent family.

But why on earth was such a rich girl rummaging around Africa?

I gazed at her with curiosity, but Camila met my eyes with pure innocence.

“…….”

“……?”

At that moment, a knock sounded, and someone entered.

“Oh, you’re all gathered here.”

It was Lucia.

She was covered in soot from the chest up.

“…Did you come out of a chimney?”

“I got dusty moving supplies. The storeroom was really dirty.”

“You could take your time.”

“If I don’t organize it well, I won’t be able to leave at any time, will I?”

Blinking, I suppressed my urge to comment.

“…Are you heading out for another medical volunteer trip? In these times?”

“I don’t see a reason not to.”

“…….”

I don’t understand why the only people around me are like this.

While I frowned deeply, Lucia cheerfully greeted Camila.

“It’s always nice to see you. So, what was the reason you called us?”

Returning to my senses at Lucia’s voice, I slowly stood up from the sofa.

“The preventive schedule I mentioned for my meeting with Francesca Ranieri has been set. I have information regarding security to convey, so everyone, pay attention.”

“Yes.”

“I’m listening.”

I spoke to Camila and Lucia in my most composed voice.

“According to the local police and information authorities, there’s a possibility of unexpected threats arising on the day of the preventive meeting.”

“Unexpected threats?”

“What do you mean by that?”

I smiled at Camila and Lucia, who looked puzzled.

“Terrorism.”