A Dark Fantasy Spy

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Flames erupted in the corridor.

The activated rune stone emitted a glowing light, rolling across the floor before bumping against the wall, and the firebird that shot out from the rune stone took off with powerful flaps.

Of course, since the corridor was blocked by the ceiling, it couldn’t fly up to the sky.

The firebird soared through the corridor, tracing a fiery path. And, as fire is wont to do, it spread in an instant.

The flames caught the carpet and wallpaper of the interior. Though the fire was not particularly large, due to its nature, it tended to rise, and thus the first place the firebird’s flapping wings reached was the ceiling.

Eventually, the light fixture hanging from the ceiling exploded with a loud bang.

“Shit!”

A panicked curse echoed in the corridor. It was Kien. Just as I expected, the thugs were from the Empire.

The thugs shouted in confusion, and I seized the opportunity to throw myself into the corridor.

I had a pistol in my right hand.

—! —!

There was no need for precision aiming. The suppressed gunfire reverberated through the air, and the thug standing right next to the door collapsed, shot in the abdomen.

Pain surged as my left shoulder collided with the floor. I tasted blood in the back of my throat.

Clenching my teeth, I twisted my waist and sprayed bullets. The thug who had been standing fell backward with a hole in his chest, while another thug, who had been leaning against the wall, toppled sideways.

I was lucky, it seemed; he had been shot in the head.

“Grrrgh…! Shit…!”

Just as I was about to rise to check if he was really dead, an ominous premonition flashed through my mind. Sure enough, that foreboding feeling quickly became reality. The emergency exit iron door in the distance swung open.

Thoughts of the backup guard arriving crossed my mind, but my body was already sprawled on the floor.

Naturally, I was hiding behind the body of the thug with a hole in his chest.

Using the fallen thug as a shield, I took aim at the backup guard rushing out of the corridor. After a few more gunshots rang out, the shooting finally stopped.

Just as I was about to rise from the floor,

—Jerk!

The thug lying on the floor twitched.

—!

…

…

…

Now he isn’t moving anymore.

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

It seemed a report had come in, as shortly after, an ambulance arrived with sirens blaring.

It looked like a guest had witnessed the fire and called it in. The police showed up for just a moment, while paramedics and firefighters formed a single unit.

Thanks to the suppressor or perhaps because the shooting occurred on a floor without guests, it seemed no reports of gunfire had been made. The scant police presence merely controlled the scene to allow the fire truck to enter.

I pondered over the balcony while looking down at the road below.

There was no chance of cleaning up the scene now.

“…Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes. Yes.”

Fabio Verati nodded, adjusting his shattered glasses. He looked quite pitiful, seated in a one-seater chair with his disheveled suit and soot-stained face.

“…Don’t stay here. Go downstairs.”

“Aren’t you coming down?”

“You go first. Take this with you.”

I handed Fabio Verati the pistol I had taken from the fallen thug and sent him downstairs.

Honestly, he wouldn’t need it anymore. No operative would stick around this mess. If I were in his shoes, I would have already fled.

Fabio Verati cautiously walked down the emergency stairs, careful not to step on the fallen thugs or representatives left behind.

It was only natural to leave the dead behind. As for the thugs, retrieving corpses was the last thing on their minds, and the same went for Fabio Verati.

I understood. I had been in that situation before.

On the terrace overlooking the city, I leaned against the railing, sighing as I looked down at the people filling the streets.

“…Hoo.”

The police had arrived, so it was time to clean up.

I stepped back into the corridor, picked up the rune stone again, and entered the adjacent room I had reserved under an alias to collect all the recording tapes.

Then I stuffed all the equipment into a bag and tucked it into the plumbing duct. I could always recover it later myself or send someone. Alternatively, I could retrieve it through one of the hotel staff the Information Officer had connected me with.

I had gathered just about everything I needed.

I rubbed the rune stone, summoning the firebird once more.

The firebird soared into the air again, tracing a fiery arc.

“……”

I pocketed the rune stone and stepped back into the corridor.

Soon, everything would burn away.

The room I had stayed in, the room reserved under an alias, the blood on the floor, the objects I had touched, the towel slung over my shoulder, and the listening devices I hadn’t managed to retrieve.

The police wouldn’t find anything.

*

Unfortunately, no one came out to meet me.

No one was there to stop me either.

Even though my black suit had a bit of blood on it, it wasn’t visible from the outside, and I had washed away enough blood from my face and hands to avoid drawing attention, so virtually no one stopped me.

The police and paramedics did detain me for witness testimony when trying to identify the cause of the fire and possibly to administer emergency treatment, but I flashed my diplomat identification and escaped them all.

Wondering where Fabio Verati had gone, I spotted him in the hotel lobby, making a phone call somewhere.

I turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I didn’t receive emergency treatment. If a bullet was lodged in me while pouring a potion or healing, the wound would heal right over it. Then I’d have to dig through my flesh again to extract the bullet fragments.

If this were Abas, I would have either gone to the hospital or gladly accepted the paramedics’ assistance, but sadly, this was the Magic Tower.

Gunshot wounds, as well as treating cuts, stabs, and burns at a hospital, would certainly attract police attention.

There may come a moment when I’d have to report to the police about the details of the shooting, but at this moment, I couldn’t let the Magic Tower police learn that I was shot. If they found out, someone else would eventually catch wind of it too.

For example, the Empire Information Agency.

Though asking Lucia would leave ‘almost’ no security concerns, considering the Inquisition was lurking around her, that wasn’t a good option either. No matter how good our relationship, and how close my ties to the Military Intelligence Agency were, I had to lay low for the time being.

In the end, I stopped by a pharmacy, buying a bunch of medical supplies like potions, antibiotics, painkillers, gauze, IV fluids, syringes, burn ointment, saline solution, medical tweezers, scissors, medical thread, needles, and bandages before trudging back to the hotel.

Of course, amidst that hustle, I entered the underground parking lot and took the emergency stairs to avoid running into anyone else. Climbing over a dozen floors with a gunshot wound and a bit of a burn was not a pleasant experience.

Only after sneakily entering my hotel room was I able to finally relax a bit.

“…Ha.”

As I flipped the bag over, medical supplies spilled out onto the table. I settled into the one-seater sofa and used my good right hand and teeth to tear through all the packaging.

The very first thing I did was disinfect. I poured saline solution into a plastic cup I had just bought and soaked the suturing thread, needle, and tweezers in it. Then I grabbed a painkiller bottle, popped a pill in my mouth, and plunged my head into the sink, swallowing it down past my parched throat.

Even after that, the pain didn’t subside, and it wasn’t until I took a few more painkillers that I could finally begin first aid.

Pouring saline solution over my burn, I washed it out before slapping on burn ointment, then took out the potion to apply over it. It wasn’t the kind of potion that would heal wounds immediately upon consumption, so I had to do it this way.

Such high-performance potions were banned from being sold at pharmacies and went straight to public or government agencies and emergency medical facilities. There simply weren’t many companies that could even produce them. It’s no wonder that if someone gets sick around here, it’s off to the church and not the hospital.

Having roughly taken care of the burn, it was time to address the gunshot wound. Minor injuries could be handled with the leftover potion, and as the medicinal effects started to kick in, I attempted to take off my blood-soaked dress shirt.

But it wouldn’t come off easily. In the end, I had to use saline-drenched medical scissors to cut the shirt away.

With the wound now exposed, I gathered a few items and headed to the bathroom.

Setting down the plastic cup, gauze, antibiotics, and syringe next to the completely dry sink, I faced the mirror and began to treat the gunshot wound.

Visibly, there was no foreign matter, so I went straight for the bullet extraction.

“……!”

Using tweezers, I prodded around the wound to grip the bullet and pulled with strength to remove it.

Even after swallowing a few painkillers, unbearable pain surged through me. After a long absence from such work, I dropped the bullet several times, causing me to jab my own flesh unnecessarily.

How long had it been? As sweat and blood soaked through my dress shirt, I finally succeeded in extracting the bullet lodged in my shoulder.

Clink.

The bullet, stained with blood and flesh, clattered onto the sink.

I used saline to thoroughly disinfect the wound, grabbed a handful of gauze and shoved it into the injury to stop the bleeding, and administered antibiotics to prevent infection.

Now, I just had to cover the wound with gauze, lie down while IV fluids dripped, and wait for the bleeding to cease. Then I could stitch it up.

“…Hah.”

Before anything else, I had to get my body back to a state where I could tackle all the scheduled events tomorrow. Whether that meant tracking down the bastards I shot at or going back to find Fabio Verati.

After finishing up the emergency treatment for the gunshot wound, I applied potion to the minor injuries, stitched up the major wound, and to prevent any internal damage and worsening of injuries, I consumed every last potion I had left. Of course, a few painkillers went down too.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wrapped things up by making contact through a secure terminal instead of the broken communication device.

Clevenz.

Military Intelligence Agency.

Defense Attaché Office.

Project 73.

Pippin and Jake.

Having sent messages to everyone I could reach, I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I had done all I could do.

As that thought crossed my mind, my eyelids grew heavy.

“……”

I should have a little rest now.