Ch.109Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective

# House Nostrim is a modest noble family from the outskirts of Abas.

Due to the peculiar political system that strangely mixes constitutional and absolute monarchy, they enjoy the benefits available to nobility, but they are not a prestigious family that has left a significant mark in history.

Why? Because House Nostrim is a family of civil servants.

Generation after generation, they served the royal family as civil servants and received their title in recognition of their dedication. They weren’t the kind of family that produced politicians or expanded their influence through brilliant business acumen.

Anyway.

House Nostrim received their title in recognition of their service as civil servants across generations, and this tradition continues to this day, even as the royal family faces checks and balances from parliament. As a result, every member of House Nostrim, except for one, is currently a civil servant.

Father, mother, older brother, older sister, and me.

Except for my younger sister who graduated from a prestigious university and remains unemployed, everyone lives in public service.

Father and brother work at the Treasury Department, mother is a lady-in-waiting serving a female royal. My sister is with the Foreign Ministry. I’m just a career soldier.

Of course, saying I’m a career soldier is a simplification—strictly speaking, I’m an intelligence agent under the Ministry of Defense, so my parents don’t know I’m a spy. Only my brother and sister know. There’s no law or internal regulation requiring me to hide my identity from immediate family, but it just felt awkward to tell them.

There’s also the perception that intelligence agencies are sinister organizations. In this neighborhood, the profession of spy itself receives a certain amount of contempt.

Honestly, even in modern 21st century society, what parent would applaud and be happy to hear their child is a spy? I understand that feeling. That’s why I didn’t tell them.

Anyway, only my brother and sister knew I was an agent for Military Intelligence.

The problem is,

“Hey, you bastard! You call after three years and ask me to hand over Foreign Ministry secrets!?”

“When did I ever say that!”

My brother and sister also dislike my workplace.

## Episode 6 – Betrayer of the Revolution

I don’t have a good relationship with my family.

It’s truly regrettable and unfilial, but there are perfectly understandable reasons for this.

First, being an intelligence agent requires strict confidentiality.

Due to the nature of the job, we have many enemies, so if our identity is revealed, retaliation could come in various forms, and exposure makes normal work difficult. That’s why many intelligence agents hide their profession, and sometimes relationships break down because of this “security.”

The second reason is social perception.

While I always consider myself a patriot, intelligence agencies are viewed quite unfavorably by others. Even in modern 21st century society, the perception of intelligence agencies isn’t great, let alone in this neighborhood where the Cold War is raging.

Just look at Jake. After finishing his new agent training, when he told his parents, “I actually work for Military Intelligence,” the first thing they asked was, “Do you beat people up?”

According to regulations, we can reveal our affiliated agency but not our duties or position. So Jake couldn’t tell them he worked in the overseas division, and his parents still think their child is an investigator in the counterintelligence department. Of course, even if he had told them he worked in the overseas division, things wouldn’t have improved much. That would be essentially saying their child is a “spy.”

Intelligence officer, operations officer, agent, operative, collaborator.

People don’t know these distinctions and don’t care.

With such social perception, it’s awkward to reveal your profession anywhere.

That’s why only my sister who works at the Foreign Ministry and my brother at the Treasury know I’m a Military Intelligence agent.

It becomes awkward when people ask what I’ve been up to lately, and since I’m too busy to visit home often, my relationship with my family has become distant. I guess I’ve grown somewhat estranged from my family since joining Military Intelligence.

I don’t even call home much. Once I almost got screwed when the Chinese bugged my calls. Plus, my work as an aide kept me extremely busy.

That was the root of the problem.

“Where the hell have you been wandering around to only call now, you bastard! Is it so hard to make one phone call home?!”

“Why are you cursing!”

“You, this, fucking!”

Merciless profanity came through the receiver.

“I’m not saying anything because I’m being nice, but you have the nerve to show your face after not calling home once or taking any leave? Huh? Three years! Were you in prison or something!?”

“No! I told you I was too busy to contact you! Why are you getting so worked up?! I went abroad immediately after receiving the contact—how could I call home!”

“You said it right, you piece of shit. Should your mom and dad hear about you on the news!? Huh? I saw it in an official document!”

“Why would an official document go to the Foreign Ministry?”

“Because agents came with documents looking for me, you bastard!”

My sister, whom I hadn’t spoken to in three years, was unleashing a torrent of abuse through the phone.

The profanity from this 32-year-old Grade 5 Foreign Ministry official was almost unbearable.

“Men in suits swarmed into my office and demanded I sign a security pledge without explanation. I signed it without knowing why, and then they said it was about your issue!”

I held the receiver and thought carefully.

I remembered being asked by the security department who knew my identity when I was preparing to leave as a hero’s companion. I heard it was being transferred to the Cabinet Security Office or Royal Intelligence…

“Um, did they not explain anything to you?”

“No explanation, you idiot! Jerry and I saw it on the news from the safe house!”

Jerry, Jerry Nostrim.

That’s my brother’s name. The one who works at the Treasury.

“Safe house? Why were you and brother there?”

“We were dragged from our offices without even being able to go home, taken in a van to a safe house! For a week! Happy now?!”

They stayed in a safe house for a week.

It seems the government protected my brother and sister. Or detained them. Either way, it’s good news. At least it meant the government was protecting my family’s safety.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m Camilla’s companion or because I’m an operations officer. Probably the former. Others don’t get this benefit.

“Anyway!”

I cut off my sister’s barking and continued the call.

“I’m at the Magic Tower right now. I know you’re still handling Magic Tower affairs. Help me out. Just this once.”

There was only one reason I was begging my sister whom I hadn’t spoken to in three years.

Adela Nostrim.

My sister is a Foreign Ministry official.

*

My sister Adela works at the Abas Foreign Ministry.

To be precise, Adela isn’t a field diplomat as people commonly imagine, but what they call a desk diplomat who works at headquarters.

Her job is information gathering. She doesn’t go around collecting secrets like a spy; she just collects information necessary for diplomacy, such as the political, economic, cultural, and industrial status of the countries she’s responsible for. She also provides collected information to other departments or agencies when issues arise.

That’s why the National Intelligence Service or Military Intelligence sometimes receive basic information from the Foreign Ministry when they send staff, and the Foreign Ministry sometimes receives information “worth knowing” from the National Intelligence Service.

It’s not for nothing that they say diplomats and spies are separated by a thin line.

Anyway, my sister Adela is a Grade 5 civil servant in the Abas Foreign Ministry. When I was commissioned, she was already working at the Foreign Ministry, and when I joined Military Intelligence, she was preparing for an overseas assignment and attending training. Her post was, coincidentally, the Kiyen Empire.

Thanks to having a diplomat sister, I received help several times. With permission, of course.

However, being an intelligence agent, I couldn’t reveal my identity abroad. So I deceived my sister who was working at the diplomatic mission until the end. And when I returned after completing my mission, I visited my sister who was on leave and told her I was working for Military Intelligence. While handing over a modest gift (a white envelope) prepared with Military Intelligence activity funds.

That’s how my sister became my informant.

“Is that something you say to family?”

“The wording might be a bit off, but it’s the truth. And I send you as much as a bonus every quarter. You should work for what you receive, Ms. Adela.”

Of course, I still send her money regularly. The “compensation” I send to my sister sometimes comes from my salary and sometimes from allocated activity funds.

For reference, while working as an aide under Clevins, it mostly came from my salary. It was standard practice to maintain informant management even after stepping away from overseas division work. If I had saved all that money, I might have been able to buy a house in the provinces with a loan.

Thanks to this, my sister fulfills most of my requests.

And that’s exactly why I could shamelessly call after three years and start talking about work.

“I need information. Magic Tower-related information kept by the Foreign Ministry.”

My sister replied in a voice that had calmed down, as if she hadn’t been shouting earlier. Money really is the best.

“Aren’t you at the Magic Tower delegation now? Can’t you just access the documents there?”

“Not the information collected by the Foreign Ministry.”

“Then?”

I adjusted the receiver to the other ear and replied in a calm voice.

“Materials that relevant agencies send to the Foreign Ministry. Treasury Department, Exchange Association, foundations, companies, there are many, right?”

“…”

On the other end of the line, my sister fell silent.

This phone call is on a regular line without a secure connection. In other words, there’s a risk of being wiretapped.

And most international calls are monitored by counterintelligence agencies. Even if not in real-time, telecom companies record conversations and send those recordings to counterintelligence agencies.

Countless intelligence agencies, including the Agency for National Security Planning, have used and continue to use this method.

That’s why my sister and I always had a habit of speaking vaguely and indirectly. Due to our professions, one of us was always abroad.

“…Like private company ‘overseas business’ materials?”

She was asking if I needed materials that intelligence agencies share with the Foreign Ministry.

“Yes. I met someone new named Francesca Ranieri who works at the Magic Tower Secretariat, and there seems to be some political issue in this neighborhood. I think I’ll be stuck here for a while.”

“…I saw the news. She’s an alchemist from the Elemental School, right? It’s probably because of the Oracle Committee election. That’s what you’re talking about?”

“Right. I need to study up on the Oracle election. Politics, economy, society, diplomacy, that sort of thing.”

“…Don’t tell me you’re going to help?”

She was asking if I was going to intervene in Magic Tower politics. In other words, she was asking if Military Intelligence was conducting political operations at the Magic Tower.

I couldn’t tell her that I wasn’t attempting political operations but preparing for a possible coup, so I just gave a vague answer.

“How could a foreign civil servant help? I’m just trying to understand the situation. If there’s a change in the Oracle, we need to be prepared. Both the government and me.”

“…How long are you staying?”

“Not sure. It’s a short-term assignment, so probably not too long. Anyway, I want to help them, but I have no idea what’s going to happen at the Magic Tower. I don’t have information.”

“…It’s political content, so it might be hard for you to understand. And there’s quite a lot of it.”

That was a slightly cryptic statement.

I’m not sure what she meant, but I’ll need to see the materials to find out.

“Just send everything you have. I’ll give them a heads-up in advance, so send it by pouch.”

“…Alright. I’ll send it as soon as possible. It should arrive within two days.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Take care.”

*

Asking her to send it by “pouch” was a kind of code for sending information via diplomatic bag.

A diplomatic bag cannot be opened by anyone without the Foreign Ministry’s consent and is exempt from all inspections and surveillance.

That’s why North Korean spies transported bombs via diplomatic bag when they assassinated the president in Burma, and the VX used to send Kim Jong-un’s half-brother Kim Jong-nam to his father was also transported by diplomatic bag. Libya was also suspected of smuggling a gun out of the country in a diplomatic bag after shooting someone in the UK.

Also, diplomatic bags have no particular restrictions on size or quantity.

North Korean diplomats used this to smuggle ivory, gold bars, and dollars into North Korea. Israel and Nigeria even put people in diplomatic bags. They were eventually caught by customs, but still.

Anyway.

The items I requested from my sister arrived.

Countless documents packed in diplomatic bags arrived at the Abas delegation to the Magic Tower. Now all that remained was to analyze them.

“…What is all this?”

“What do you think? It’s work.”

“…”

I handed all the materials to the information analysis team.

“Compare everything here with the Foreign Ministry, Military Intelligence, Royal Intelligence, and police materials, and extract only the essential parts. Remove all duplicates.”

“…We’ve already used up our overtime allowance for this month. Will we get paid if we exceed that?”

“You’ll have to ask the general affairs department about that.”

“…”

Pippin and the analysts who came to the delegation office looked at the documents filling the office and started filling large plastic bottles with coffee.

Even I thought it was quite cruel, but this was the military. And in the military, rank is everything.

“Anyway, extract the information quickly. I’ll do the reporting, so just keep records.”

“…What kind of information do you need? As far as I know, there are no directives from above.”

“It’s nothing major, just a simple matter. I need to know how the current situation at the Magic Tower affects the Oracle selection and the Magic Tower government, and what problems might arise from that.”

I explained it poorly, but they understood perfectly.

Having received these vague instructions, Pippin and the analysts began creating information using all sorts of materials.

I approached the window and looked at the Magic Tower’s downtown area that was slowly coming to life.

“…”

With patience, the answers would soon emerge.