NOVEL WEB Chapter 92
“Currently, there is ongoing anti-government protest in the Magic Tower.”
“Government?”
“Ah, from the Magic Tower’s perspective, yes. From the standpoint of the people here, it actually is a government. They do have a parliament, you know. Yes.”
I gathered my offhand political statement in front of Camila and Lucia.
Maybe it’s because they’re from a cult, but the response wasn’t very positive.
“A few days ago, we received an official document regarding the protests at our representative office.”
I unfolded the document sent by the Magic Tower Police.
“It included details about the scale and nature of the protests, the participants, and the organizers and their backers. The local police and information authorities concluded that extremist factions among the protesting forces were highly likely to cause incidents on the day of prevention.”
Therefore, security at the designated location will be reinforced.
A 24-hour response readiness will be maintained, focusing on the Information Police and counterintelligence agencies, with armed police and police-affiliated magicians responsible for field security. The Military Intelligence Agency and the Inquisition are in the same boat.
“I just wanted to make sure you were informed. Please refer to the document I’m handing out for more details.”
“Um….”
Camila raised her hand timidly.
“Is it serious?”
“The protest itself isn’t particularly threatening, but the organizations leading it are the problem.”
I pulled out the official document from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It had a photo attached, featuring symbols recognizable at a glance by both local and earthlings.
A bright yellow sickle and hammer drawn against a red background.
A red letter A etched on a black backdrop.
And…
“What is this?”
A swastika twisted at a 45-degree angle.
A pattern that would irk an Israeli.
A symbol that one couldn’t bring to the streets of Europe without inviting a barrage of bullets.
“Nazism.”
“…….”
“Communism, anarchism, Nazism. They’re all ideologies imported from different worlds. We’ve localized them quite well.”
Thanks to that, I had it easier during the Military Intelligence Agency entrance exams.
I smiled broadly and Camila covered her face with her hands.
“Bloody hell….”
—
Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy
—
“Heil Sieg.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Heil Hitler?”
“I told you to stop.”
Camila glared at me with her jaw clenched. Perhaps coming from a country that got pummeled by Nazis, her reaction was rather intense. It was refreshing. It was also amusing how, maybe due to a malfunction in the translator, instead of speaking in the local language, she chose to curse in English.
I set down the book I was holding (a translation of confiscated items from protesters—My Struggle).
“Are you sulking?”
“No.”
“Oh, you’re definitely sulking….”
I ignored the stone-faced Camila and turned on the news.
[…No longer are we losers! Our Magic Tower has proven that for the past 100 years, we have no shortcomings compared to any nation or race!]
“That scared the hell out of me.”
The volume was louder than expected, nearly causing me to drop the remote.
The booming voice echoing through the room was enough to disorient, but the impassioned speech from the fascist clinging to the reporter made my already dazed mind even more muddled.
Camila shot me a pleading look, extending her hand.
“Give it to me.”
“Aw, why? This is entertaining.”
I deftly evaded Camila’s reach, enjoying the grand spectacle of utter stupidity.
Communists, anarchists, and totalitarians took turns grabbing onto the reporter, passionately spewing their thoughts on the current situation while advocating for the legitimacy of their protests, painting their imagined utopias.
These ideologies, all deemed obsolete in the global arena, were humorously localized, making such propaganda somewhat entertaining.
Especially the sight of Nazis and Reds, who once stabbed each other’s backs for distrust, now fighting together was a highlight. What would Hitler think, having won elections and crushed the German Communist Party, if he saw this?
“Why in the world are those two hanging out together?”
“Why are you asking me?”
To explain to Camila why those gentlemen were now chummy would require a lengthy discourse on the history of oppression, the victim mentality of the magical community, and the conflicts and superiority complex surrounding humans and other races.
Like everything in this world, there’s a reason behind idiocy. But such an explanation was too complicated. So I chose not to divulge. There was no reason for Camila to know.
Avoiding a detailed explanation, I lightly brushed off her question.
“Well, extreme opposites do tend to attract, right? Anyway, the Tower’s side is well-prepared for security, so don’t worry too much.”
—
After briefing Camila and Lucia about the prevention schedule, I returned to my hotel room.
Settling comfortably on the sofa, I reviewed the reports.
Today’s topics were twofold.
A trend report on the three organizations leading the anti-government protests and an analysis report of all recent terrorist activities in the Magic Tower. For the record, the former was sent by the Abas Ministry, and the latter by the Public Order Preservation Bureau of the Magic Tower.
“Hmm….”
The content was quite intriguing.
Terror acts were primarily aimed at political symbols and hard targets—heads of state, prominent figures, government agencies, financial institutions, foreign diplomatic missions.
This must be what they call classical terrorism in professional terms.
The perpetrators targeted were clear, operating under central control, using tactics aimed at spreading fear and dread, aligning their victims with their targets, raising the value of their cause while appealing for international support even while resorting to violence—but leaving room for dialogue to minimize unnecessary casualties.
From the 19th century to the 20th, terrorism throughout the globe generally exhibited these classical terrorism traits.
National liberation, restoration of sovereignty, etc. A final means for oppressed groups silenced and isolated from corrupt and violent regimes (or foreign powers) to voice their concerns. Up until the early 2000s, terrorism worldwide generally bore such inclinations—before Al-Qaeda hijacked planes and crashed them into the Twin Towers.
Since the 9/11 attacks, ‘terror’ for the people of the 21st century became synonymous with masked fanatics holding hostages in bathrobes against a desert backdrop. So, all acts of terror post-9/11 have been categorized under the term new terrorism.
From what the Langley kids say, Al-Qaeda had shown signs of mass slaughter since the ’90s, but I wasn’t sure about that. Guess I should have delved into counter-terrorism myself.
Overall, this was clearly good news.
Unlike the savage bastards causing chaos in the Middle East and Africa, there were no instances of terrorist organizations killing hundreds of civilians around here. At least, not yet.
I set the report down and leaned my head back.
“Hey, Jake!”
“Yes! Coming!”
Jake, who was organizing the documents, rushed over.
“You called for me?”
“Uh, I went through all of this. Send a report confirming that the schedule is clear to both the representative office and the Magic Tower. And destroy these all.”
“Yes.”
Jake tossed the documents I handed him into the metal trash bin. From the box on my desk, he took out a small stone and rubbed it earnestly in his palm.
–Whoosh!
Upon contact, a bright light flickered from his hand, and a small burning bird shot up to the ceiling.
The tiny bird spiraled around the room before diving into the trash can.
Suddenly, the metal bin ignited into flames, consuming all documents within.
It was a spectacle that elicited spontaneous amazement.
“Whoa. Is that what they call a rune stone or something? I felt like I was watching the ending of a new world.”
“That was created by an alchemist. Specifically, it’s a product from a workshop that’s a collaboration between an alchemist and a spirit mage, and it was supplied to public institutions by the representative office.”
“There’s a lot of fascinating stuff around here.”
I’ve seen Camila and my younger sister use magic plenty of times, but I rarely witnessed a magical tool in action. They must be incredibly pricey.
I’ve heard daily-use magical tools have become quite common, and considering how convenient something like that is, I thought about getting one for myself.
As Jake brought the stone over the trash can, the flames were instantly sucked back into the stone. It was reusable, it seems. I really want one.
“Shall I just send the report then?”
“Yeah. That’s all I have for today. Can I take this one home?”
“Sure, I don’t mind. It comes with an instruction manual, so read it and use it.”
They probably wouldn’t care since it was given for use.
I tucked the neatly folded manual and rune stone into my pocket.
“Oh, by the way, how’s the business going?”
“I’m preparing for the next operation as you instructed.”
Jake answered while placing the stone back in the box.
“I just went on a short trip, and the contact’s condition is stable, with the employees doing well.”
“Did Pippin brief them well?”
“She always does.”
Pippin and Jake had met with the Military Intelligence Agency personnel involved in the operation. Naturally, due to Jake’s status as a Defense Attaché, they couldn’t meet openly; hence they had to sneak into a makeshift office under the cover of darkness.
Still, it was a relief that everyone was safe.
“That’s a relief. And what about Unit 51?”
“They’re still at home. No contacts at all.”
It seems Fabio Verati cut off all communication with the outside world. Or perhaps the representative office severed the phone lines.
That was quite a promising sign.
I unfolded the calendar posted on the wall.
“It’s been almost a week. Let them know to start preparing to move.”
“Yes. Should I try to move the interview schedule up as much as possible?”
“Yes. But schedule it for after the prevention. No, just arrange a meeting as soon as the prevention is over. But make sure the location is public.”
“Do you have a place in mind?”
I retraced the nearby geography I’d learned by observing the surroundings during my time at the hotel. There are foreign hotels nearby, cafes with optimal routes, and so on.
“Let’s meet at a cafe nearby.”
After a moment’s hesitation, my answer elicited doubt from Jake.
“A cafe might not be ideal considering the circumstances….”
“We’ll change the venue midway. You know what I mean?”
“…Ah.”
Jake let out a small gasp and nodded.
“I’ll work with the representative office to compile a list of suitable locations.”
“Okay. Send my regards to the Attaché’s office, and let the employees know too.”
—
Time flew by quickly.
Negotiating the operational agreements concerning the Magic Tower and prevention, mobilizing the staff, along with carrying out my duties as a Defense Attaché, and looking after Camila and Lucia. Occasionally, I’d catch up with Dmitri and Sophia. The same goes for Veronica.
Before I knew it, another day had passed.
My body seemed to have adapted; it wasn’t particularly exhausting. Day by day passed in a whirlwind of activity.
Finally,
“The Magic Tower is ready to receive guests.”
The awaited day had come.
“And us?”
“The same.”
“Tell them to start.”
Francesca Ranieri and Fabio Verati.
The time to meet the two had arrived.