Ch.114Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective

“Ranieri works in the Economic Management Department of the Secretariat. While the department is nominally responsible for the Magic Tower’s international trade, imports and exports, and commerce, it actually generates and manages slush funds by earning foreign currencies like Tachron, Shilling, and Ducat.”

“Slush funds? You mean governing funds?”

“Yes.”

Episode 6 – Omniscient Spy Perspective

“We currently consider it Oracle’s governing fund. The Magic Tower uses that money to exert influence over political parties, civic groups, associations, public enterprises, private companies, public institutions, and the military, both inside and outside the tower. Additionally, we suspect that some of that money is secretly flowing into the Human Resources Development Institute as operational funds.”

National Security Agency investigator Sophia continued speaking with a calm face. Her demeanor was so normal that at a glance, it seemed like she was explaining something trivial.

But the reality was different.

“So far, it appears they’ve collected funds legally. Though it’s possible some was gathered illegally. But that money is clearly being used as Oracle’s governing fund.”

“……”

The National Security Agency investigator said it. The Magic Tower had crossed a line.

“From the Magic Tower’s perspective, it might be legitimate lobbying, but from a third country’s standpoint, it’s political manipulation.”

What the Magic Tower was doing was lobbying at best, political manipulation at worst.

Buying political parties and civic groups with money, recruiting politicians and bureaucrats. The relationships built this way can be used anywhere. The applications are endless.

For example, they could steer foreign governments toward policies favorable to the Magic Tower, loosen import-export regulations to monopolize markets, or even steal confidential information that’s only handled within foreign governments.

The problem is,

“I never heard about this.”

“About what?”

“That Ranieri works in such a place?”

Intelligence agencies despise such activities the most.

Even South Korea faced diplomatic issues when it lobbied the U.S. Congress using Korean-Americans during the Fourth Republic. That incident led to congressional hearings in the U.S., threats to withdraw U.S. forces from Korea and cut loans, the CIA bugging the Blue House office, and the KCIA assassinating a former KCIA director, completely destroying Korean-U.S. relations.

And now the Magic Tower is doing the same thing.

After thinking for a moment, I asked.

What are they going to do about it?

“This has long since gone beyond something that can be handled at the agency level.”

She says it’s not something intelligence agencies can resolve.

Narrowly speaking, it meant the executive branch—that other government departments needed to be consulted. Broadly speaking, it meant this was a matter requiring direction from Congress, the judiciary, or the President.

Sophia smiled bitterly. At least, her expression suggested so.

“I’m sorry, Merlot. I don’t have a solution either. Telling you this much is the best I can do.”

*

My steps returning to the Magic Tower were unbearably heavy.

It wasn’t just because of fatigue.

I already knew that my new colleague, the alchemist, was a Magic Tower civil servant. However, I didn’t know that she worked in the Secretariat managing Oracle and the Human Resources Development Institute’s back pocket.

I also already knew that the National Security Agency had been monitoring her for over 20 years, but I only learned today that they possessed information potentially fatal to the Magic Tower.

What should I do?

“……”

They say the Magic Tower’s Secretariat is earning foreign currency to create slush funds.

This wasn’t particularly shocking information. Government departments creating slush funds for leadership is common in third-world countries where dictatorships prevail, like in parts of Africa or the Middle East. The same goes for Southeast Asia.

Even those commie bastards use Room 39, the Foreign Ministry, and intelligence agencies to scrape together foreign currency. It’s an open secret that North Korean intelligence and special agencies use various methods to create Kim Jong-un’s slush funds: joint ventures with foreign companies, overseas restaurant operations, exporting specialties and minerals, exporting weapon parts, drug smuggling, cryptocurrency exchange hacking, insurance fraud, and so on.

Since Kim Jong-un took power, Room 39 and the Foreign Ministry earn money legally, but the Reconnaissance General Bureau and State Security Department still engage in illegal activities like drug smuggling, arms trafficking, and hacking.

Because of this, China’s Ministry of State Security once arrested a State Security Department agent smuggling drugs at the North Korea-China border, causing diplomatic issues. And in 2010, the National Intelligence Service, collaborating with the CIA and MI6, tracked and froze overseas accounts of Kim Yong-chol, the head of the Reconnaissance General Bureau.

So the Magic Tower’s Oracle accumulating foreign currency for slush funds wasn’t surprising. I’ve seen worse. It’s common in this industry.

“……”

If I were a journalist, I could write an article exposing this to the world. Right to know. Freedom of the press. Something like that.

If I were a politician, I could use this information for national interest. Or I could expose the Magic Tower’s corruption to change the world. Perhaps I could use it privately to prepare for the next election or to make money. Elected politicians in a democratic society have such power.

But I wasn’t a journalist, and certainly not a politician.

I was a soldier. An intelligence officer at that.

There was only one thing I could—and should—do.

I organized all the intelligence I had gathered and sent it to Military Intelligence.

The encryption device encrypted the message so no one could see it, and the encrypted message flew to headquarters’ communications room via magic waves.

And the reply came.

[Message confirmed.]

Read.

There were no orders or instructions included; that was all the message contained when the communications officer decoded it.

“…Is that all? Was there nothing else?”

“Nothing else recorded, sir.”

“…I see.”

The communications officer bowed slightly and closed the door to the cryptography room. Following regulations, the paper containing the message went into the shredder, and I trudged across the corridor. I left the embassy building.

I had taken a day off today, so I didn’t need to work.

People gave me curious looks when I suddenly returned to write a message on my day off, but no one particularly cared. The Defense Attaché’s Office was a restricted area, and those working there didn’t pay attention to me. It was because of the compartmentalization principle.

Intelligence agency people don’t know what neighboring departments are doing. No one tells them, and they don’t try to find out. So when the next office becomes noisy, most just think something happened and turn off their attention.

That’s why no one thought it strange that I visited the embassy. It was someone else’s business, and paying attention would only give them a headache.

I walked the streets of the Magic Tower with my aching head.

“……”

A wizard flew overhead on a broomstick. The trash he threw made a thud as it landed in a goblin’s can.

The homeless goblin stared at the can silently for a while, only spitting out a curse-laden saliva after the wizard disappeared. The green arm protruding from under the ragged blanket was covered in needle marks.

Beyond the alley, a beastkin was tearing open garbage bags. Its triangular ears stood upright, but its tail was missing, perhaps cut off.

Across the street, a wizard with a cape pulled low over his face irritably held out his bag, and an orc police officer, patrolling in a pair, began searching it for a spot check. The other officer stood at a distance, hand on his holster, watching the wizard.

Perhaps to save on taxes, the Magic Tower’s night view wasn’t what it used to be. Despite the early evening, the shopping district was shrouded in darkness, and merchants were closing their shops one by one to return home. Their expressions were darker than expected. Was it because of the recession? Or perhaps because of the increasingly violent protests.

I took in each of these sights as I walked the streets.

Perhaps due to increased patrols, no robbers were in sight even as I passed near the slums. Instead, police were densely stationed throughout the streets, stopping and checking passersby.

Of course, I wasn’t included in that. When I showed my diplomatic passport to the police officers gesturing with batons, they quietly bowed and let me pass.

Thanks to that, I could continue my wandering thoughts without interruption.

“……”

People were getting by somehow, but the world wasn’t.

The Magic Tower faced an unprecedented political crisis. Protests were intensifying daily, and international public opinion was not sympathetic.

The Empire is planning something. Reconnaissance Command operatives have left the country en masse, and confidential communications are pouring into diplomatic missions in the Magic Tower. Something was clearly brewing, but I didn’t know what.

The National Security Agency is deliberating on how to deal with the Magic Tower. They can’t figure out how to resolve the slush fund issue of the Magic Tower’s leadership, Oracle. They say it’s not a matter for the intelligence department to resolve but requires agreement with the Foreign Ministry or Defense Ministry, and approval from the President and Congress, but they didn’t tell me what exactly that entails.

Prime Minister Abbas is in the same boat. He’s also contemplating the Magic Tower’s fate. But he too doesn’t provide clear answers.

I don’t know what the Royal Intelligence Service is thinking, and Military Intelligence confirmed my message but gave no orders.

Veronica, who predicted something interesting would happen at the Magic Tower, continues to remain silent. She said she would introduce someone to me. But she didn’t say who or when.

I kept trying to figure things out. The psychology and interests I don’t know, international situations and foreign policy trends, defense and security, economy and diplomacy, upcoming elections, committee member selection, slush funds, the alchemist, Lucia, Camilla…

“……”

Things seemed to connect bit by bit, yet the pieces didn’t quite fit, which was truly frustrating. Nothing I thought of was certain.

Well, when was anything ever certain?

Though surrounded by unknowns, I could gradually learn, and if answers weren’t visible, I could find them.

With that thought, I was trudging back to the hotel when—

“Frederick…?”

“…Camilla?”

My head turned automatically at the voice calling me. In the direction of the familiar voice stood a familiar person.

Camilla.

“……”

“……”

“…Why are you looking at me like that? Hehe.”

“…What on earth have you been doing to turn from white to black?”

She faced me in an awkward posture, covered in black soot.