Ch.118Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective

“Are you getting into trouble these days?”

The cryptic question from Leoni, the Director of the 2nd Department of National Operations at the Royal Intelligence Service, left me puzzled.

Getting into trouble? What could that possibly mean?

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”

I let my words trail off vaguely while quickly racking my brain. Something must have gone wrong.

All I’d been involved in recently were covert operations (kidnapping Fabio Verati and his youngest daughter, murder, bombing, assassination, deception, etc.).

Of course, besides the covert operations, I’d also been meeting various people for intelligence gathering. But I was operating under official cover, and the activities of an intelligence officer disguised as a diplomat were explicitly protected by international conventions. All my intelligence gathering had been strictly legal and within standard operational parameters.

What does this mean?

It means there’s no way to stop a spy operating from an embassy.

Even countries with intense counterintelligence like China or Russia can’t casually interfere with official cover operatives. If they had actively blocked official cover intelligence officers, British and American embassies would have withdrawn from China and Russia long ago.

Arrest or legal punishment is impossible due to diplomatic immunity. The only practical punishment is declaring someone persona non grata and expelling them. Even expulsions are handled strictly unofficially due to concerns about diplomatic deterioration.

United States. United Kingdom. France. Germany. Israel. China. Russia. North Korea. Japan. South Korea.

Countless intelligence agencies adhere to this implicit rule. And it’s the same in this neighborhood.

So if there was a “problem” with my activities, it was almost certainly related to the covert operations.

Thus, with the confidence of my diplomatic status and a hint of anxiety, I asked Leoni:

“…You’re not here to tell me I’m being expelled, are you?”

Leoni replied:

“No, not that. Your activities haven’t been detected anywhere. At least you’ve fooled the eyes of the Magic Tower.”

“Then what’s this about…?”

The Royal Intelligence Service Director said:

“You accessed Royal Intelligence Service files. Files unrelated to your duties. Without authorization.”

“……”

“Why did you do that?”

Episode 6 – The Spy’s Perspective

To explain why I was being interrogated by Director Leoni, I needed to turn back the clock by a few hours.

Back to that moment when we discovered the large shipment of contraband and drugs.

Veronica had asked me:

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“What else? I need to get to work.”

“Intelligence gathering?”

“Yes. You catch on quick. I need a driver, so get in.”

I got into the vehicle Veronica had brought and laid out a prepaid phone and secure terminal on the glove compartment. Then I started making calls, alternating between the prepaid phone and the secure terminal.

For the record, Veronica was behind the wheel.

“Good grief… I’ve never seen someone use a saint as a chauffeur. What kind of situation is this?”

“And I’ve never seen a saint doing espionage work. Is that normal?”

“I suppose we’re both living rather unusual lives.”

Ignoring Veronica’s grumbling, I picked up the prepaid phone. My first call was to a contact at the National Security Agency.

-“Hey, what’s up, Merlot?”

“Are you still in the Empire?”

-“No. Now that Ranieri has returned to the Magic Tower, we need to head there too. Just finished immigration and waiting for pickup.”

“Then could you look up some information for me? It’s about a private company.”

-“Merlot, don’t tell me you’ve switched to industrial espionage?”

“Nothing like that. I just need to check something. It’s a Fatalian private company, but I don’t need detailed information. Just who owned it before and who manages it now.”

-“Give me the name.”

“La Cardenal.”

According to Veronica, “La Cardenal” was the company that owned most of the contraband.

Currently registered in Alandirius, but previously Fatalian, so the National Security Agency should have records on it, assuming the retention period was still valid.

-“I’ll look into it. If the records still exist.”

“Don’t deliver it personally—too risky. Just send it from your mission to our mission.”

-“Can I charge you for copying fees?”

“Fuck off.”

Sofia said she’d look into it and hung up. I swapped in a new prepaid SIM card from my pocket and made another call.

My second call was also to a contact.

-“…Well, if it isn’t the fucking spy. Why are you calling?”

“Mr. Journalist, I need to ask you something.”

-“Spit it out, asshole.”

“Got any information about smuggling or drugs in this area?”

Dmitrie, a former journalist from an Imperial news agency. As a former crime reporter, he was the second most well-connected person among my informants. For reference, the most well-connected was currently turning the steering wheel beside me.

-“What? Smuggling? Drugs?”

The former Imperial crime reporter and current Magic Tower newspaper crime editor caught the scent. The scent of a scoop.

Though he didn’t show it, I could tell from his voice that he was getting excited. This guy’s starting again.

-“Why do you need that kind of information? Are you investigating international crimes now?”

“No, nothing like that. I just need it, you bastard.”

-“Look at you, getting all terse. Fine. What exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything! Items being smuggled in and out of the Magic Tower, drug inventories, arrest records, managing companies, merchants involved, corrupt officials taking bribes.”

-“Hey, what am I, a private investigator? You want me to look into all that? I’m not some financial reporter peddling stock market rumors…”

“So do you know anything or not? Just tell me that.”

Dmitrie didn’t ask for money. He wasn’t motivated by cash. What drove him was a sense of mission, competitive spirit, and a touch of vanity.

Though I couldn’t give him those things directly, I could show him how to get them. The choice was always his.

-“How much time are you giving me?”

Once again, he agreed to help.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

-“Well, maybe a week at the fastest?”

“Finish it in three days. If you need anything, tell me now.”

-“I know a few operators around here, but they’re all small fry. Small fry. Connect me with the big fish. You know, the intelligence officers at the embassy who are good at this stuff.”

He had a point.

What most people don’t realize is that official cover intelligence officers have connections not just with host country officials but also with gangsters, smugglers, drug dealers, and other intelligence officers. As a former crime reporter, Dmitrie knew this well.

But I could see his ulterior motive. Why would a crime editor want connections to informants managed by intelligence officers?

He wanted to establish his own connections with Abas intelligence assets, extract information, and chase scoops. I wasn’t oblivious to this.

“Alright. I’ll contact you when it’s ready.”

-“Sure.”

“But it’s not my jurisdiction, so I can’t make any promises.”

I decided to turn a blind eye to it.

Providing what an informant requests is a handler’s duty—that’s the rule of the trade.

So I incurred a debt to Sofia and agreed to Dmitrie’s request. I’d have to repay Sofia someday, but that was a future problem. I’d figure it out when the time came.

After that, I continued making calls. Jake. Pippin. Unit 73. Defense Attaché. Police liaison. Magic Tower police intelligence officer. Magic Tower civil servant. Magic Tower counterintelligence agent. Heresy Inquisition…

Sometimes orders were exchanged. Sometimes favors. Sometimes heated words. I kept making calls one after another.

After quite some time, I finally noticed the sharp gaze from the driver’s seat and turned my head.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Saint?”

“Hmm…”

Veronica, wearing sunglasses and turning the wheel, hummed thoughtfully.

“I was just thinking I might ask you for a favor someday, Major.”

“I have a feeling you’ll only ask me for unreasonable favors.”

“Well…”

She smiled softly and said:

“That remains to be seen.”

*

Veronica dropped me off at a park far from the Abas mission. I had checked several times from the passenger seat and now wandered around nearby buildings and alleys, cautiously checking for any surveillance.

Only after confirming there was no tail did I enter the mission building and fling the door open energetically.

“Jake!”

“Yes sir! Coming right away!”

Jake rushed out to greet me when I called his name.

“Where are the materials I asked for?”

The materials I had requested were information about La Cardenal, smuggling, and drugs. Jake placed documents retrieved from the foreign affairs police and military intelligence servers on the desk.

“Right here.”

“Good work.”

I sat at the desk and began quickly scanning the reports. It was clearly more than I could review before the end of the workday, giving me an ominous feeling that I’d be working overtime again.

I ended up dividing the documents into three piles, handing one to Jake. I called Pippin in and gave him another pile.

“What’s all this? Boss, did you get into trouble again?”

“What trouble? Pippin, what exactly do you think of me?”

“Well… you seem to attract incidents wherever you go…”

Despite Pippin and Jake’s complaints, this had become such a routine that they naturally sat down and started reviewing the documents. We gathered around the office desk and began our review.

“Jake, you look at the La Cardenal information. Pippin, you check the smuggling information. I’ll look at this.”

“What’s that? Drugs…? Did the Heresy Inquisition request information sharing?”

“No, it’s a personal matter. I’m not involved, but something’s bothering me.”

I read through the drug-related information documents kept by the foreign affairs police. The number of drug offenders caught in the Magic Tower each year, drug trade status inside and outside the Tower, production scale, detected facilities, dealers, contacts, manufacturers, financiers, and so on.

‘Measures to Eradicate Drug Crimes’

‘Cooperation Plans with Domestic and Foreign Agencies for Arresting Drug Criminals’

‘Management Methods for Chemical Substances and Alchemy Materials to Block Drug Crimes’

I filtered out all such useless information. What I really wanted to know was different.

The steadily increasing number of drug offenders each year.

Types of drug offenders and causes.

Drug manufacturing and distribution methods.

How drugs manufactured in the Magic Tower pass through customs.

Organizations trading drugs in and around the Magic Tower.

People, warlords, companies, etc. making money from drugs.

These were what I was truly curious about.

“……”

In truth, I had no particular reason to dig into this information. It was just intuition.

I’d seen communist drug deals a few times. I’d seen how such things become funding sources for warlords and government forces in Southeast Asia and Africa. I’d seen self-proclaimed jihadist terrorists in the Middle East get caught growing poppies.

If the drugs I discovered today were managed by the Magic Tower Secretariat—specifically the Economic Management Department—the situation would become serious.

If this were exposed, countries sensitive about drugs like the Empire, the Church, or the Lushan Federation might label the Magic Tower as an “axis of evil” and project military force. Allied nations like Abas or Fatalia might pressure the Magic Tower through various means.

Then Francesca Ranieri would be caught in the crossfire. That would definitely happen. The alchemist was working at the Economic Management Department of the Secretariat.

“……”

The best outcome would be proving the drugs had no connection to the Magic Tower government, but if they were truly connected to the Magic Tower, I needed to prepare some countermeasures.

For instance, packaging it as a whistleblower case for image management. Or secretly disposing of the drugs or forging documents to eliminate any connections.

“Boss?”

Jake’s voice broke my reverie. Looking up, I saw the blonde rascal calling me while flipping through documents with a pen in hand.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“This document is a bit… no, very strange? Or is it normal?”

Jake was holding documents related to La Cardenal.

“What do you mean?”

“Take a look.”

I took the documents from Jake and quickly read through them.

And I understood why Jake had suddenly said something strange.

“…What is this?”

“I’m not sure. A printing error maybe…?”

“This… this definitely isn’t a printing issue.”

I put down the documents with a thud and tilted my head back. I massaged my nape and sighed deeply.

“Sigh…”

In the documents I’d put down, most of the sentences had been redacted with black lines during the security review process.

Looking at the documents, I muttered:

“These bastards are at it again.”

The emblem of the Royal Intelligence Service was in the middle of the document.

*

Most of the documents sent by the Royal Intelligence Service to Military Intelligence were redacted. To be precise, they were documents sent from the Abas mission’s information management office to the defense attaché’s office, but since both were overseas branches of intelligence agencies, it amounted to the same thing.

What happened next was predictable.

I took the documents to the information management office, caught an intelligence officer who was about to leave work, and demanded to know why they weren’t properly sharing information. The officer countered by asking why I was trying to access materials unrelated to my duties.

Eventually, I grabbed the phone and called the Abas representative to the Magic Tower (who was in the middle of a post-work shower) and complained that the Royal Intelligence Service wasn’t properly sharing information.

It was a major breach of etiquette to behave this way toward people I barely knew, but I had no time to worry about such niceties.

The Royal Intelligence Service was hiding information, the Foreign Ministry was being passive because it was an intelligence agency matter, and Military Intelligence wasn’t responding to reports.

Who else could I talk to? This was my responsibility.

Anyway, without time to explain the situation, I threw a tantrum and managed to obtain a few documents about La Cardenal that the Royal Intelligence Service had been keeping.

And then Leoni caught me.

“You accessed Royal Intelligence Service files. Files unrelated to your duties. Without authorization.”

“……”

“Why did you do that?”

That was the whole story.

“It’s troubling when you come at me like this without a valid reason. Even if you’re just a diplomat without much of a title, you still represent an agency.”

Director Leoni, who had stormed into the defense attaché’s office, sat in a chair interrogating me.

“As I’ve said repeatedly, in this field, reasons are important…”

“……”

“Why did you do it?”

I quietly closed the file I had received from the Royal Intelligence Service and said:

“I’m just doing my job. Like the intelligence officers working here.”

“Since when has your mission been tracking ghost companies? As far as I know, you’ve never received such orders.”

“I haven’t been assigned any operation missions, officially or unofficially. I’m just investigating—”

“If you didn’t receive a mission, then this is a personal matter.”

The director cut me off.

“……”

“So you accessed Intelligence Service files for personal reasons?”

I protested:

“I won’t deny that I haven’t received orders from Military Intelligence to gather information on La Cardenal. But this is related to my work. You can’t stop me from doing that, Director.”

It was self-defense at best, defiance at worst.

No matter how you looked at it, she was a policy maker in a national intelligence agency, and I was just an officer from a military intelligence agency.

She even came from a military intelligence background.

Honestly, considering Leoni’s personality, I expected at least a verbal lashing if not disciplinary action, but surprisingly, she just stared at me without saying anything.

“……”

“……”

We maintained an uncomfortable silence, staring at each other. The veteran intelligence officer’s impassive expression revealed nothing, yet somehow conveyed a great deal.

After a long silence, Leoni suddenly spoke:

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I have nothing more to add.”

“You don’t seem inclined to stop.”

“……”

I didn’t say much.

“…Very well. I’ll take my leave now.”

Leoni got up, gathered her things, and left the office.

She didn’t say much else.

“I hope you won’t have any regrets.”

That was all.

*

Time flew by. Leoni left the office without further comment, and I remained to review the documents.

I had sent Pippin and Jake home long ago. Even I thought it wasn’t a good look to keep them around after the Royal Intelligence Service director had paid a visit.

And now, the lights in the office went out.

The materials kept by the Royal Intelligence Service were less informative than I’d hoped. They only revealed that La Cardenal was a company dealing in magical tools, materials for magical tools, alchemy ingredients, herbs and materials needed by wizards, and the like.

There was no information about who owned it, why the company failed, who held how much of the shares, or where all the materials and transportation means managed by the company went after it collapsed.

I couldn’t tell if the Royal Intelligence Service only had this limited information or if they were hiding more.

“Good work, Attaché.”

“Good work to you too.”

“Oh, right. We received a Foreign Ministry notice yesterday. It says it’s dangerous to wander alone at night for the time being, so please be careful. Would you like me to arrange transportation to your hotel?”

“…No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

The embassy security officer said he understood, told me to be careful, and sealed the mission’s main entrance. I’d heard he was from some special forces unit, but I wasn’t particularly interested in his exact background.

I left the mission with an uneasy feeling and headed toward my hotel.

The night in the Magic Tower, already known for its poor security and now in turmoil due to protests, was very cold and dark.

But that darkness didn’t approach me.

Police patrolling the streets and checking pedestrians backed off when I showed my diplomatic passport, and since I stuck to main roads where I only encountered police, I didn’t run into any back-alley thugs.

“……”

Walking through the night without worrying about my safety naturally led to wandering thoughts. The first was concern.

What would happen to me now?

I could provide perfectly reasonable explanations if asked to explain everything, but I had accessed Royal Intelligence Service documents without proper justification, so disciplinary action might be coming.

Even if Intelligence didn’t discipline me, the representative might suspend me. After all, I had forcefully accessed classified information.

It was actually surprising that the representative had helped me get the information at all.

It didn’t seem like he was doing me a favor. Maybe he just wanted to leave it to the Royal Intelligence Service to handle and wash his hands of the matter.

My worries about the future ended there.

There was no point in continuing to worry about something that hadn’t happened yet. If the representative suspended me, I’d actually be grateful. I could treat it as a vacation, spend time with Camilla or Lucia. I could also manage my informants and gather information while I was at it.

Lost in these thoughts, I found myself near the hotel.

A quiet night street. The hotel visible in the distance.

A place where I could rest comfortably. I mustered my strength and started walking toward it.

The night in the Magic Tower was cold and dark, but that darkness didn’t approach me, and I left the dark path for the bright street ahead.

But what I had forgotten was,

This wasn’t the Church or Abas with relatively good security, but the Magic Tower.

-Vrooom!

-Screeeeeech!

“…?”

Living as an intelligence officer in this dirty, dark fantasy world means,

Nothing ever goes according to plan.