Mistaken For a Couple

Chapter 5: Rahan Receives His Mission

“I’ll be off, then.”

“Alright.”

Rahan Ortalin stepped out of the house dressed in a clean-cut suit, carrying a briefcase.

Just like any other working man, his slumped shoulders and heavy footsteps made him look like someone being dragged off to a slaughterhouse.

His workplace was the Rungsa Community Center, located near the border of Rungsa and the city of Sarahon.

It was a frontline institution—handling civil complaints, overseeing urban development... or so the cover story went.

The community center was real, but Rahan’s position there was a complete fabrication.

“You’re here, Director.”

“Morning.”

“Hello, Director.”

“Good morning.”

Greeted by polite nods and warm gazes from the passing female staff, Rahan walked into his office, set his bag down, and entered the elevator located in the hallway.

This was a mana-powered elevator, recently deployed by the Empire across the region.

As the flagship of cutting-edge government development, the community center had been the first to receive one.

Rather than pressing a floor number, Rahan began inputting a series of button combinations as if entering a password.

Clunk!

The elevator jolted and began descending.

Ding—

A mechanical chime rang out, and the door opened.

“Salute! Good morning, Commander!”

A young officer in full Imperial uniform snapped to attention with a salute, hand to brow.

This was the underground HQ of the Bayrn Empire’s 1st Special Operations Unit.

Rahan changed into his proper uniform—a colonel’s set with his rank insignia—and moved deeper inside.

“Lieutenant Jerid. Where’s the commander?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet, sir. We’ve got the video conference set up and ready.”

Rahan squared his shoulders, walking across the steel mesh flooring with firm, echoing steps.

Within the massive facility, shirtless soldiers mid-workout, officers organizing documents, and sergeants giving tours to new recruits all turned to salute as he passed.

Receiving the salute of countless soldiers, Rahan stepped into the glass-walled command room.

There, he sat before nine massive square monitors arranged in a grid.

Straightening his uniform, he ran a quick mic check. Only after confirming the system was working did a stern middle-aged man’s face appear on the main monitor.

Rahan immediately stood.

“Salute! Commander.”

“Colonel Ortalin. I heard you have something to report.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sitting back down, Rahan brought the mic closer to his mouth.

“Recently, we’ve eliminated several Naifel agents active in the Rungsa region. Two died under interrogation. Another agent, whom we were monitoring, came forward wishing to defect, and betrayed his comrades. Thanks to that, we apprehended two more spies. He promised to hand over classified Naifel information in exchange for protection. The meeting was scheduled today, 1600 hours, at the abandoned Rungsa Garment Factory.”

“Well done. Thanks to your efforts, the Bayrn Empire steps further away from the fires of war.”

“You flatter me.”

“…And the top-priority mission? How is that progressing?”

The top-priority mission.

An order to maintain deep cover as a civilian to catch enemy spies—superseding all others.

“As I reported yesterday, no issues so far.”

“I see. I heard you’ve moved into a new house in Rungsa?”

“……Yes, sir.”

“Is it livable? I heard it was newly built.”

Rahan debated whether to mention the fact he had been scammed—but chose not to.

It was a personal matter, and one he could resolve soon enough.

“It’s nice. Cozy, even.”

“Good. Any difficulties so far?”

Rahan straightened his back and replied with fervor.

“There is no hardship in serving the Empire! I am Bayrn. Bayrn is the people. My life exists for the people and His Majesty. It is my honor to bear the duty of safeguarding the Empire’s peace.”

The commander smiled with satisfaction and adjusted his posture.

“Thanks to loyal officers like you, the Bayrn Empire grows ever safer from enemy threats. Keep up the good work.”

“Salute!”

The video conference ended.

Lieutenant Jerid, seated beside him, spoke up.

“I’m jealous, sir.”

“Of what?”

“I applied for that housing lottery too… didn’t get it.”

“…You don’t need to be jealous.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a bit of a problem. I was scammed.”

Jerid shot up from his seat, startled.

“S-Scammed, sir?!”

Still in a daze, Jerid began to mumble.

“Who in their right mind would scam a military officer? And not just any officer—a special ops agent on Imperial assignment?!”

“If they’d known, they wouldn’t have tried. And I would’ve failed my mission.”

Jerid tilted his head.

“But what kind of scam was it? Did they swindle you out of money?”

Rahan slowly massaged his throbbing temple.

“…Double contract.”

“A double contract? With whom?”

“Some woman I’ve never met.”

“A woman you’ve never…?”

Jerid’s eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief.

Then quickly came to his senses and asked, “Is it romantic? A green light situation?”

“Are you mad, Lieutenant? With a woman I’d never even seen?!”

“S-Sorry, sir! But that’s not a normal situation, right? A fateful encounter! Living under the same roof with a stranger! That’s the stuff of minstrels’ songs or TV dramas!”

Rahan glared at him.

“Are you enjoying this? You look like you’re having a blast. Must be plenty of free time, huh? Shall we schedule a surprise inspection? Sounds like the perfect day for a deep clean.”

Rahan’s thunderous voice sent a chill down the room.

Every soldier in the command center turned sharply.

In all their eyes: We’re so screwed.

“N-No, sir. Of course not. I deeply sympathize with your suffering.”

“Smooth talker, aren’t you… Sigh.”

“…Is she pretty?”

“JERID!!”

“Oops! Sorry, sir! I crossed the line!”

Jerid scratched his head with an awkward grin.

Despite Rahan’s cold and principled demeanor, he wasn’t the type to stay aloof from his subordinates.

Their unit wasn’t large to begin with, and Rahan had always treated his people openly and warmly.

Rahan sighed once more and stood up.

Time to meet the would-be defector.

Jerid, now back in professional mode, asked,

“You’re heading out? Should I come too?”

“No. He wanted to meet me alone. And I prefer it that way.”

“You’re just heading there like this?”

“No. Prepare the facial disguise.”

“Right away.”

Jerid fetched the disguise device. Rahan equipped it over his face.

He had worn this disguise the last time he met the defector. Using the same face would help keep the target’s guard down.

Reflected in the glass wall, Rahan was now someone completely different.

With soldiers saluting once more, Rahan left the underground HQ.

***

Step—

Rahan Ortalin arrived at the Rungsa Garment Factory just as—

BOOM!!!

“…Was that the factory?! An explosion?!”

Something was wrong.

Rahan broke into a run.

Just then—

Thud—

He collided with a woman rushing past him.

“Oh, excuse me.”

“……”

She had reddish-brown hair.

Without even glancing back, she ran off.

What the…?

Not even an apology?

Frowning for a moment, Rahan brushed it off and ran toward the source of the explosion.

“Cough! Khk!”

Thick black smoke filled the air.

“Hey! Naifel agent! Are you there?!”

Rahan shouted as he entered the burning building.

Unclaimed fabrics had caught fire and were blazing.

The flames had spread up the walls like a cancer, reaching the ceiling.

“Damn it!”

He scoured the area for signs of life.

Then—

“There!”

The blast origin.

A blackened area of scorched floor.

He rushed over.

“Ugh.”

Even at a glance, it was brutal.

The blast’s epicenter was completely obliterated—no way anyone survived.

The body was far from intact.

So that was the defector.

What the hell had happened?

Why would he self-destruct?

Rahan began sweeping the area with his hands.

Despite the scorching heat, there was something he had to find.

It’s not here. The intel from Naifel he was supposed to hand over.

The defector had promised to hand over information in exchange for protection.

“Damn. I was too late.”

Who was responsible…?

Wait.

Rahan turned back the way he came.

“…That woman?”

He bolted outside, back to where he had bumped into her.

He looked in every direction.

But the woman with the reddish-brown hair was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it!!”

He struck a roadside metal panel with his fist.

It dented in the shape of his knuckles.

“To think I let a Naifel rat slip through my fingers.”

What a disaster.

He looked down at his right arm.

There were bloodstains.

I wasn’t hurt, though.

Rahan stared at the stains for a moment.

That rat… she’s wounded. Probably barely escaped the blast radius.

His eyes flashed with fury.

From far away, the sound of sirens echoed.

Someone must’ve reported the smoke.

Fire trucks were already approaching fast.

Rahan turned and briskly walked away, touching his earpiece.

“…This is Black Shark. Mission failed. Defector is dead.”

“One suspicious individual fleeing toward District Two of Rungsa. Request cooperation from nearby precincts. Target has distinct reddish-brown hair and an injury to her left arm. Over.”

He had crushed the rats once.

And yet another remained.

Who are you?

I’ll find you—and kill you.

Naifel’s rat.