I’m an Immigration Officer!

Two Days Later — Intelligence Bureau Operations Room
Melanie stood at the table with several Intelligence Bureau agents, all of them wearing grave expressions.
"What’s the distribution of the murders reported over the past two days?"

She pointed at the northern map laid out across the table.
One of the agents responded.
"A total of 28 murder cases have been confirmed, progressing slowly from the Great Forest region toward the Skadi Empire. Unidentified bodies continue to be discovered."

"Then that would suggest Black Hand’s headquarters is somewhere in that area."
Miniature models were scattered across the map—field informants, infiltrating agents, national forces, and the positions of key figures.
Melanie picked up a crow figurine and placed it on the labeled Great Forest zone.

"If our intel’s correct, the Evil God Cult’s main base is somewhere inside the Skadi Empire. It’s only a matter of time before Black Hand pushes all the way in."
She then placed a small demon figurine over the Skadi Empire—by far the largest portion of the map.
The distance between the crow and the empire’s border wasn’t far. Roughly three hand spans.

Melanie looked down at the layout and spoke.
"Pull all our northern infiltrators back toward the border. Anyone who had direct contact with the Cult—mark them as KIA. Erase their identities."
"Understood."

The agents nodded grimly.
All the figurines marked with the Cross-Line Kingdom’s crest were gathered and relocated to the border zone.
"Set up safe houses and new identities for our local informants ASAP. We’ll need at least half of them alive if we want to avoid trouble later."

"You think Black Hand would kill our informants too?"
"They won’t show mercy. Not until Hattensilla is in their hands. Even the faintest link will get someone killed. I’m not losing valuable personnel again."
Black Hand already knows the Cross-Line Kingdom is involved.
They responded to our request anyway.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll care.
There are no exceptions in total war.
"Effective immediately, we suspend all investigations into the Evil God Cult. We keep our distance—under no circumstance do we reveal our involvement."

The Cult doesn’t yet know what happened.
Even a hint that we interfered could turn all of their vengeance onto us.
"Let them bleed each other dry. When the balance breaks… that’s when we move again."

Divide and conquer.
Nathan’s plan had been nothing short of brilliant.
A way to eliminate the northern headache and the justification for a crusade, without ever lifting a finger.

Thanks to Erzena’s improvisation, the method differed from the original strategy—but the outcome was perfect.
And Eliza saying she’d “come find the former Saintess again”—that wasn’t just talk.
That suggested a potential diplomatic link with Black Hand.

If they could establish a connection with the largest assassination guild in the north, their intelligence network would grow exponentially.
"We can’t miss this opportunity. You all know—this is a race against time."
"Yes, ma’am!"

"Good. Then next meeting’s in three days. That’ll be all. Dismissed."
The agents saluted and poured out of the room.
Only once they were gone did Melanie finally slump back into her chair, the perfect posture she’d held collapsing all at once.

"Huaaah… My back’s killing me. Haven’t slept in two days…"
The yawn stretched out uncontrollably now that her tension was gone.
With two full nights of sleeplessness behind her, the shadows beneath her eyes were dark and deep.

Melanie stared at the crystal ball on her desk.
"Nathan…"
A small smile touched her lips.

Just two days ago, she’d received a message from him:
[Melanie. Had it not been for you, this entire operation would’ve become far more difficult. Thank you—truly.]
Nathan almost never called her by name.

He usually referred to her only by title.
Only when something really mattered—or in moments of genuine urgency—did he use "Melanie."
The fact that he led with her name had made all her exhaustion vanish in an instant.

And on top of that, thanks to the codebook he’d completely translated and returned, their other operations had advanced, too.
He had solved a longstanding problem and expressed sincere gratitude.
That alone would’ve been more than enough reward.

But her luck didn’t end there.
[If it’s not an imposition… I’d like to visit you sometime soon.]
That awkward, bashful line—accompanied by him scratching his cheek.

Melanie had almost screamed on the spot.
Nathan was coming. Of his own will.
The real reason she was so exhausted was because of that.

The operation design had taken her maybe four hours. The remaining forty-four she’d spent on Nathan.
"Soon" probably means sometime this month, right?
She’d pulled more all-nighters preparing for his visit than she had during the southern syndicate takedown.

What do I wear? Where should we meet? What should we eat? I need—INTELLIGENCE BUREAU!
She’d mobilized the full resources of the Bureau to identify the best restaurant, the most optimal time slot, and the perfect outfit.
Now, no matter when Nathan showed up, she was ready.

Even down to her lucky lingerie.
Her gaze flicked to the mirror on her desk.
Even in her formal suit, her curves were impossible to hide—the smooth lines, the graceful silhouette.

A perfect harmony of serpent and human.
…Hmph.
To a young man like Nathan, that combination would be dangerously irresistible.

No. It’s guaranteed.
Melanie had confidence.
It’s not like I wanted to go this far.

That man was delicate.
A man with sorrow still buried in his heart—pitiable, and yet enduring.
So at first, she hadn’t planned to approach him so aggressively. She’d intended to be patient. To offer him a quiet, steady hand.

But now she didn’t have the luxury of waiting anymore.
Because during a recent conversation through the crystal ball with Erzena, she’d heard something she couldn’t ignore.
[If protecting Nathan requires me to step forward, then I will.]

Nathan.
Not “Central Officer.” Not “Inspector.”
Nathan.

Why would that woman call him by name?
Unless you're family or a close friend, addressing someone by name like that is rare.
Especially in diplomatic contexts—it’s practically a breach of etiquette.

And Erzena, once the Saintess, would know that.
Which meant…
Nathan must’ve given her permission.

Melanie could already feel it.
"Hmm…"
That faintly unsettled feeling in her stomach.

She played the moment back in her mind.
The way Erzena’s face looked when she said his name—it resembled her own expression, disturbingly so.
…I don’t like it.

Her mood sank like a stone.
Temporary asylum, or whatever you want to call it…
Nathan must’ve wanted to protect the former Saintess.

Her mind understood that.
But still—emotionally, something felt wrong.
To clear her head, she glanced down at the pile of reports from domestic agents—routine updates.

Inspectorate: No anomalies.
Treasury: No anomalies.
Arcane Excavation Department: Currently excavating deep ruins along the southern coast. Findings of interest.

Foreign Ministry: Difficulties in treaty negotiations with eastern nomads.
Royal Post Office: Verification required.
All familiar intelligence—except the last one.

"Verification required?"
Her serpentine eyes gleamed with curiosity.
Information I don’t know about?

She flipped it open immediately.
It listed how many parcels the Royal Post Office had delivered nationwide.
And amid the data, one anomaly stood out.

“…There’s quite a lot of packages headed for the southern border.”
Normally, border-bound mail is sent once every three or four days—batch processing for administrative efficiency.
Only urgent or emergency documents would break that pattern.

“This went out every single day.”
And not just once. Four times—special delivery. Four days in a row.
As far as Melanie knew, the only person who’d sent an emergency package to the southern border recently… was herself.

To transmit data about the Evil God Cult.
"But I only sent it once."
Which meant someone else had done it—four times.

She checked the sender logs for the past two days.
And at the bottom of the documents, she found something strange.
[Sender: Unknown]

"…"
Redacted.
"Information even I can’t see?"

Melanie muttered in disbelief.
A chill swept through her.
There should be no such thing.

As Director of the Intelligence Bureau, she had unrestricted access to all domestic records.
She narrowed her eyes.
“…No way.”

There was only one scenario where something like this could happen.
When the lawfully required disclosure of information was intentionally bypassed.
And that happened only in one circumstance—

When a member of the royal family acted in secret.
 
****

At the Same Time — A Room in the Royal Capital
—Thump, thump, thump, thump.
A young woman paced in tight circles through the room for the two hundred eighty-sixth time, a grave expression on her face.

“Ugh…”
Elaine Castor let out a low sound, her face filled with worry.
But no words came.

Then—
—Knock knock.
A knock at the door.

—Bang!
Without a word, Elaine waved her hand, and the far-off door flung open, pulling the girl standing there inside in one swoop.
“P-Princess…! H-Hehh… I—I’m back… Haaah…!”

It was Hannah, her personal maid.
Breathless, staggering, she dropped the stack of letters in her arms, each arm piled high with paper.
“Huuaah… I’m g-gonna die…”

With a helpless groan, she collapsed flat onto the floor.
God knows how many times she’d secretly run to the Royal Post Office by now.
She’d also never imagined she’d be hauling bundles of letter paper weighing nearly half her bodyweight every single time.

Thanks to that, her arms were constantly sore and bruised—there wasn’t a day they didn’t ache.
“Uuugh…”
Elaine used her psychokinesis to pull a chair over and plopped Hannah into it as a silent gesture of thanks.

“Ah—thank you, Princess…”
Hannah slumped back in the chair without resistance.
“…”

The princess stared down at her quietly.
“Hehe… Princess.”
Hannah smiled faintly.

Then, from her bosom, she pulled something out.
“There’s a reply again this time!”
A letter from the southern border.

Elaine’s face lit up instantly.
Another reply—so soon…
She snatched the envelope and ripped it open in one motion, devouring the words on the page.

“Mhm! Mmm!”
So that’s what happened.
“Ah!”

So that’s what the Inspector does.
In under thirty seconds, she finished reading it once—and began reading it again.
Thinking about what thoughts filled the letter as it was written, what posture he might have had as he penned it.

And then her eyes landed on the final line.
[I look forward to your reply with joy. From your friend.]
“…Hehe.”

Elaine’s lips curved into a brilliant smile.
Ever since she’d sent that second letter, she’d received something completely unexpected.
A reply. From the Central Officer himself.

It wasn’t as long as the letters she’d sent, of course, but it was unmistakably written by him.
[From your friend.]
There was only one person who would write something like that.

Since that day, Elaine’s world had grown brighter.
No longer were her words a one-sided monologue.
They were truly having a conversation now.

Even if the word count was a laughable 99 to 1 in her favor.
For the past four days, she had been deeply, genuinely happy.
Eyes that had been dulled for so long now sparkled with life as she reread her friend’s letter.

“…Sniff.”
Seeing her like that, Hannah suddenly lunged forward and wrapped Elaine in a hug.
“Princess… Please don’t ever forget I’m always cheering you on.”

“Mmh?”
It had been such a hard stretch.
Sneaking out letters in secret with the royal signet ring…

Hauling stacks of letter paper every day and getting them to Elaine without anyone noticing—it had nearly broken her.
I don’t even know how I managed it all.
Each trip had her nerves stretched thin and her body drenched in sweat.

It was more like a spy mission than anything a maid should do—something fit for Intelligence Bureau agents.
But not once had she complained.
Because it had been so long since the princess looked so full of life.

Hannah sat back in her chair and pointed at the clock, eyes bright.
“The Queen arrives at 7, so we still have time! Let’s get that reply written! If we hurry, we can send it again today!”
The current time was 5 o’clock.

Two full hours until her mother arrived, accompanied by the priests who suppressed Elaine’s abilities.
Elaine looked at the clock and nodded.
“Mm!”

Even Hannah had grown to love it now.
To become friends with someone through letters—how romantic is that?
To carve something true into words that could never be spoken aloud—it was a beautiful thing.

Especially for someone like Princess Elaine.
After the tragedy, she had lost the ability to speak.
Letters had become her sole means of communication—her way of engaging with the world.

And now, that world was expanding, little by little.
Hannah gazed softly at the girl pouring her whole heart into writing a reply.
—Scratch, scribble, scratch.

How long has it been since I saw her smile like that?
A smile so precious, so lovely—one she would protect with everything she had.
Her heart throbbed.

I want to stay by her side.
And one day… for the princess to speak again.
That was what Hannah wished for, from the bottom of her heart.

Whether she had the right to wish such things, she didn’t know—but she clenched both fists tight with all her feelings.
And that’s when—
“You… What is all this supposed to be?”

A sharp voice cut through the air behind them.
Elaine and Hannah both froze.
A sickening drop in their stomachs.

They both knew who that voice belonged to.
A person more terrifying than anyone else—and yet, one they were more familiar with than anyone.
Someone whose warmth they could never expect, yet always yearned for.

“What is the meaning of this nonsense!?”
The voice of the Queen—Elaine’s mother.