Ch.123Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective (End)

# “What Do You Mean?”

“The wiretap recordings. Who gave them to you?”

“Hmm…?”

The administrator blinked in confusion, tilting her head.

“I know you’re close with my sister.”

“…”

“Don’t you have some idea who might have given you those call recordings, Magistrate?”

The alchemist gave a slight smile. Lips tightly closed, eyes narrowed, corners of her mouth upturned.

A smile that seemed both genuine and not quite. That kind of smile.

In response, I lifted my glass with an expressionless face.

The strong scent of alcohol stung my nostrils.

“What’s with you? I’m from the Intelligence Department.”

“…?”

“I can tell whose work it is just by looking at the scenario.”

## Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective

“…What do you mean by that?”

“Why keep questioning when you already know? You’ve shown most of your cards. What, trying to salvage whatever scraps are left?”

There’s a term called information superiority.

It refers to the gap between the handler who controls and directs an intelligence asset from behind the scenes, and the asset who operates under the handler’s control.

The handler knows everything about the asset. Conversely, the asset knows “almost” nothing about the handler.

To put it simply:

“Veronica doesn’t know who I talk to, when I get off work, or even where I go after work.”

“…”

The handler must know everything, and the asset must know nothing.

All the asset needs to know is what information to collect.

Countless intelligence agencies adhere to this principle.

The National Intelligence Service did, and so did the Defense Intelligence Agency. The Defense Security Command and the police are the same. They don’t just collect domestic intelligence; they also gather North Korean intelligence from defectors.

Agencies like the CIA, SIS, DGSE, BND, MSS, SVR, and Mossad go without saying. Modern operational techniques, technology, and basic intelligence principles all originated from agencies at the forefront of intelligence warfare.

Of course, it wasn’t always this way for everyone.

During the Cold War, when proper HUMINT operational techniques weren’t established, many handlers suffered for failing to follow this principle. Some watched their assets die, others were captured by hostile nations and forced to divulge information, and some even lost their lives.

Intelligence agencies exchanged knowledge, gained experience firsthand, and refined what their predecessors left behind.

That’s how it was established. Everyone does it this way.

So.

“But how could that woman pass my call recordings to you?”

“…”

“All she knows is my hotel room number.”

The idea that Veronica had passed my call recordings to Francesca Ranieri was complete nonsense.

I never operate that way.

Never.

“Then someone who knows me very well must have passed on the information…”

“…”

“Who could it be?”

There’s no one in the Information Management Office or the Defense Attaché’s Office who knows me. A colleague of mine did work here, but they’ve been rotated back to headquarters.

Similarly, no one at the Magic Tower knows me. At most, maybe Dmitrie or Sophia. But Dmitrie is an asset managed by Sophia, and Sophia is an old acquaintance who works for the National Security Agency. And the surveillance target is sitting right in front of me.

So it’s not Dmitrie or Sophia either.

Could it be a third country?

No. I’ve only worked in this field for three years, so I don’t have deep connections with any agents except Sophia.

Of course, Francesca Ranieri did go abroad briefly. But that was to the Empire. Where I conducted operations.

Intelligence agencies typically don’t socialize with agents from countries where they operate. That’s why I became friends with Sophia, who belongs to Fatalia’s intelligence agency, while in the Empire. If I had been assigned to Fatalia instead of the Empire, I wouldn’t have had any reason to befriend someone from the National Security Agency.

By similar logic, while I might have shared drinks with Sister Wang in China a few times, I’ve never gotten drunk with a commie. I vaguely remember greeting a woman who joined the Polish Communist Party, but anyway.

Perhaps the Imperial Guard’s archives have information on me. But if Francesca Ranieri had contacted an Imperial Guard agent, Sophia would have noticed. And then—

‘I knew you’d do this, you revolutionary traitor!’

‘What?’

‘Administrator, please conduct politics with a broader perspective!’

‘Aack.’

…She would have dispatched her like that. Given Sophia’s personality, she would have disguised it as a murder by a violent criminal rather than using a firearm, but still.

So it’s not the Empire either.

Then who?

“…Hmm.”

Realistically, there are exactly three people in the Magic Tower who know me well and have the authority to access information about me.

One is Jake, who came from the Abbas Special Forces and joined Military Intelligence; another is Pippin, who worked in the Navy Analysis Division before being recommended to Military Intelligence.

And the last one is.

“…Well.”

“…”

“Working during your golden vacation time, I see.”

Someone I know well.

*

“So you suspected me?”

“Yes.”

“What nonsense.”

Leoni laughed nonchalantly, mocking me.

“Do you believe someone you’ve known for less than a month?”

“That woman didn’t say much. I didn’t believe her anyway. I just trusted my own judgment.”

Former Military Intelligence Empire Branch Operations Officer.

Former Military Intelligence Empire Branch Chief.

Former Military Intelligence Lushan Federation Kingdom Branch Director.

And current Royal Intelligence Service National Operations Bureau Section 2 Chief, Leoni nodded slowly.

“I thought you’d have lost your edge doing staff work in the domestic division instead of overseas. Is it because you’re young? I thought you’d have lost your touch working as an aide under Clavins.”

“Please mind your language. He may be your junior from the military, but he’s a department-level official. What’s with calling him ‘that guy’?”

“What, are you going to tattle?”

I shrugged.

“Answer my question first.”

“Such insolence…”

The military senior reprimanded her disrespectful junior. Even outside Military Intelligence, Leoni was already active in the military when I was still studying at the academy, so she wasn’t just any senior.

Of course, setting all that aside, Leoni was now more than just a military senior; she was a section chief in the Royal Intelligence Service. In South Korean terms, she wasn’t from the Defense Security Command but from the National Intelligence Service. I wasn’t sure exactly what her status was—not a career hire but on long-term assignment.

“So was it you, Section Chief, who sent Francesca Ranieri?”

The Royal Intelligence Service section chief answered.

“Yes, I believe I met someone like that. Satisfied?”

“…”

As I suspected, it was Leoni, not Veronica, who had sent Francesca Ranieri.

It wasn’t a very satisfying answer, but at least my question was resolved. For now.

But questions still lingered in my mind.

“Why did you do it?”

Leoni answered my question.

“We’re planning an operation at the Magic Tower. We need that woman’s help for it.”

“What kind of operation?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. You’re going to run to Clavins and ask anyway, aren’t you?”

“…”

She hit the mark.

I nodded at her answer and asked a more productive question.

“If you start operations at the Magic Tower, the Empire won’t sit quietly. Neither will Fatalia.”

“That’s none of your concern. Frankly, what does it matter to you if I stir up trouble at the Magic Tower?”

“I’m saying this because I’m also assigned to the Magic Tower.”

“Huh.”

Leoni scoffed at my answer. It wasn’t so much mockery as it was finding it ridiculous.

After a brief pause, Leoni suddenly said something unexpected.

“You’re quite capable. You’ve been in the field for three years, so this is your fourth year?”

“…”

“You joined Intelligence after catching spies. As soon as you joined, you were dispatched to the Empire. After three years in the field, you were promoted to captain before your peers. Is that right?”

“Why ask if you already know?”

“I’m just curious. A fresh recruit immediately assigned to field work and running around everywhere. Come to think of it, it’s promotion season now, right? While some of your peers are just becoming captains, you’ve already made major.”

Leoni let out a thoughtful hum.

“Hmm.”

After contemplating in silence as if deep in thought, Leoni changed the subject back to Francesca Ranieri.

“That woman is perfect as an intelligence asset.”

“…”

“She belongs to both Fatalia and the Magic Tower but doesn’t settle in either place, wandering like those people beyond the border.”

What Leoni was talking about wasn’t material.

It was psychological.

“One side suspects her ideology, and the other fears betrayal, so it’s understandable.”

“Are you saying her recruitment motive is revenge?”

“It’s not that linear. Is the human heart ever so simple?”

She was saying the recruitment motive was complex.

The operations officer spoke about human psychology.

What drives people are beliefs represented by ideology and principles, and the values ingrained throughout life. Exploiting these was her profession and mine, so it was worth listening to.

“Francesca Ranieri is the child of a political criminal under surveillance by the National Security Agency. Correct?”

“I know that.”

The Ranieri family traced its lineage to the founding father who established the Magic Tower, and they were a symbol of the brotherhood between Fatalia and the Magic Tower. Their ancestor was a mage from Fatalia. That’s why both Fatalia and the Magic Tower would occasionally allocate national projects with a “we’re family!” spirit.

Urban development projects.

Educational institution establishments.

Magic power exports and imports.

Raw material imports and product exports.

Fatalia-Magic Tower scholar exchanges.

Joint weapons system development, and so on.

The problem was,

“Then you must also know that the Magic Tower abandoned the Ranieri family.”

“…”

The Magic Tower had abandoned the Ranieri family.

More precisely, when the Ranieri family harbored resentment against the Fatalia Republic government for confiscating their privileges and spoke out, both governments, concerned about diplomatic issues, cast them aside.

Of course, there was a political agreement behind this. The Magic Tower guaranteed the legitimacy of the newly formed Fatalia government, and Fatalia maintained cooperation with the Magic Tower that had been established under the dictatorial government. They couldn’t jeopardize an alliance for the sake of preserving one family’s dignity, so they sacrificed the symbol of brotherhood for the sake of alliance solidarity. As a result, even after 20 years, the Ranieri family remains under the control of the National Security Agency, stripped of all power and existing only as a symbol.

Thus, the Ranieri family became traitors to the revolution.

The only one who escaped that frost-like blade was the alchemist who fled to the Magic Tower and became a civil servant.

“What else is there?”

“Before studying abroad at the Magic Tower, she personally signed documents from the National Security Agency. Agreeing to keep quiet during her studies at the Magic Tower.”

Of course, the National Security Agency’s surveillance never loosened.

They’re an intelligence agency, after all.

“Physical contact with her family was prohibited, as was communication via wired or wireless means. The National Security Agency doesn’t care if she becomes a bureaucrat or goes into business, but it would be a big problem if she entered parliament or sat on the Oracle, wouldn’t it?”

“When did she come to study?”

“It’s been about 10 years since she entered the Secretariat, so it must have been about 12 years ago. She attended university here too.”

Francesca Ranieri is in her late twenties. The head of the family was charged with sedition and placed under surveillance 20 years ago, so she was marked at what would be elementary school age on Earth.

The calculation roughly added up.

“So she’s been separated from her family since she was a minor. Was there really a need for such intense surveillance?”

“A family that traces its lineage to the founding father still has significant influence in magical society. If she were to seize power and incite rebellion, it wouldn’t just be diplomatic deterioration but civil war. Fatalia Republic troops would shoot mages, and Fatalia mages would burn republic troops. Or they might conduct preventive arrests like the Empire, or the president might go mad and bulldoze the square with tanks.”

“…”

“Would you ignore such a threat?”

Fatalia, which treats her as both the pride of country and race, and as a political criminal’s child and subversive element.

The Magic Tower, which sees her as a descendant of an old revolutionary standard-bearer but abandoned her entire family out of concern for relations with Fatalia.

Who is the real traitor to the revolution?

Fatalia, which doesn’t want to lose political legitimacy and cooperation with the Magic Tower?

The Magic Tower, which weighed its relationship with its largest magical ally against the family established by the founding father?

The Ranieri family, which was branded as political criminals for speaking out thoughtlessly?

It’s not an easy question to answer. That’s why no one pays attention to such trivial, political, and philosophical topics.

It’s not my business anyway.

However, for the young Francesca Ranieri, that must have been her only question.

Fear of the future.

Surveillance that followed her whenever she left home.

Wiretaps that automatically activated when she picked up the phone.

The humiliation of being a family surviving on name value alone.

The frustration of seeing her future blocked by her background rather than her abilities.

The anger that grew from feeding on those emotions.

The emotions she felt throughout her life planted a bomb in the corner of her mind. Knowing those feelings well, I had nothing more to say.

But the question that arose here was just one:

Who would pull the trigger?

I don’t know.

“…”

Since I was neither Francesca Ranieri nor Leoni, I couldn’t know who would help her express that anger.

But I did know what kind of end Francesca Ranieri would face.

“I suppose you’re trying to make her an agent. At your age, you should be retiring…”

“Are you rubbing it in because I’m old?”

“I meant you’re experienced and seasoned—something like that.”

“Damn… the way you talk.”

The Royal Intelligence Service section chief who had just cursed spoke:

“Of course, things went smoothly thanks to you. That’s why your head is still attached, you know.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Sophia, was it? The intelligence officer monitoring the administrator. Since you showed up, she’s been leaving her post occasionally to meet you.”

“…”

“That made things much easier. I didn’t expect to be sitting in this position and receiving your help.”

Leoni, who had indirectly expressed her gratitude, spoke from an operational perspective.

“It doesn’t matter what motivates the administrator to be recruited. What matters is who recruits her.”

Most people would point fingers at this as insane judgment, but sadly, this was her bread and butter.

An operations officer isn’t James Bond running through enemy territory with a gun, but a puppeteer who weaves threads into people’s limbs to control them.

“What the administrator is looking for is someone to put a knife in her hand. And I want that to be Abbas.”

The operations officer stood up and handed me a file.

“Take it.”

Control and direct her, she meant.

“It’s a gift for you.”

“…”

Leoni spoke of Francesca Ranieri as if she were an object, not a person. An ordinary person might call her twisted, but I understand her.

A capable operations officer shouldn’t see their agents as people. It’s hard to endure if you invest emotions in someone who might die or be fired at any moment. There’s a reason why the CIA and NIS employ psychotherapists.

And the woman before me is one of the most capable operations officers.

“…The moment the Royal Intelligence Service or Military Intelligence takes Francesca as an asset, the National Security Agency and Unified Intelligence Department will protest. Aren’t you concerned about the Fatalia branch staff?”

“That’s a problem for politicians, not operations officers like you. And I have a plan.”

Leoni placed the file in front of me and sat down.

“And.”

With a slightly fatigued appearance, she casually blurted out:

“If we have a saint as an intelligence asset, shouldn’t we also have an administrator who’s being considered for the next Oracle Committee? It would be fitting, wouldn’t it?”

“…Have you been monitoring me?”

“Did you think they’d let you roam free up there?”

The section chief smiled. It was a distorted, twisted smile.

“Think about your position. You’re not just any diplomat but a military attaché, and a hero’s companion. Do you think Abbas or the Church could handle the fallout if you were expelled for espionage?”

“…”

“Even if your identity hasn’t been exposed, you’re not free from surveillance once you go abroad. It might be different domestically. In a similar vein, the secret you buried about Cardinal Raul is the same.”

“…”

“What? Surprised that the Royal Intelligence Service knows about it?”

Leoni leaned back in her chair, putting her weight on it.

“The Royal Intelligence Service is a national intelligence agency. We can look into any information produced by Military Intelligence, the Cabinet Security Office, the Special Investigation Bureau, or the Magic Department. I think I mentioned this before: there are no secrets in this world.”

“…”

“If that gets out, the Inquisition will fall, and Raphael, who’s about to become Pope, will lose his head. The Church will split into four or five factions and wage civil war, each claiming their theological interpretation is correct.”

Suddenly, I wondered what expression I was wearing. Looking at my reflection in the glass, I saw my face was the same as usual.

That image reflected in the rain-streaked dark window seemed both bizarre and familiar.

As I sat there silently, looking out at the dim world, the section chief’s voice came through clearly.

“In that sense, that… La Cardinal investigation you’re conducting? The Magic Tower Secretariat Economic Management Department’s drug business investigation. Ease up on it and let it be.”

“Are you telling me to ignore the drug problem?”

“If it involves the Secretariat’s Economic Management Department, it will shake the entire Magic Tower. The administrator might get caught in the crossfire. Even if she’s related to a political criminal, she’s still a Fatalia citizen. The moment she’s arrested, control shifts to the National Security Agency. If she turns the knife around, we’ll be cut. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“…”

“So bury it. Like the cardinal’s secret.”

“…Why should I do that?”

The Military Intelligence operations officer’s question was mocked by the Royal Intelligence Service section chief.

“If the drug business surfaces, not only the Magic Tower but also the Fatalia government will fall. How can a government maintain public support when its ally is caught selling drugs?”

“I understand the Fatalia government currently has high approval ratings.”

“The opposition will raise hell. They’ll say, ‘We’ve poured so much money into the National Security Agency, and they didn’t even know our ally was selling drugs to our country?'”

The Royal Intelligence Service section chief discussed Fatalia’s political situation.

“Fatalia is in the middle of a general election. If this issue breaks before the election, the ruling party will be pushed out of parliament, and the moment the opposition secures a constitutional amendment threshold or a majority, the government will change. They’ll obviously dominate the next local elections too. And then the presidential election after that? When the government changes there, it creates headaches for the Abbas government, foreign ministry, and intelligence services.”

“…”

“Of course, counter-terrorism, industrial security, and international crime investigation are difficult fields. But do citizens know that? Have they ever shown interest in what we do? People don’t care about such things. What matters is that opposition lawmakers have a solid issue to criticize the ruling party with. Right before a general election.”

She was telling me to bury it for the sake of the Fatalia government.

At the same time, though she didn’t explicitly say it, she was implying that all of this was ultimately for Abbas’s benefit.

The change in Abbas’s foreign policy direction due to a regime change in an allied country. The magical society of the continent torn apart by the collapse of the Magic Tower. The shaking international situation. The Kiyen Empire exploiting the gap. Numerous countries pouncing like wolves. Raphael drawing the blade of inquisition with a smile toward the corrupted Magic Tower.

Choosing the lesser evil to prevent the worst.

The numerous problems that lesser evil would bring.

The world’s problems were never simple, and they had become so tangled like a ball of thread that they couldn’t be easily unraveled.

The age of madness called the Cold War. The Iron Curtain dividing the world into East and West, and propaganda flowing from radios splitting people’s brains.

The frost-like wind that blew there is also casting its shadow here.

“This is an intelligence agency, not an investigative agency like the police, prosecution, or Magic Department. And you’re an operations officer.”

“…”

“What can you do? This is my job.”

The Military Intelligence senior said.

Don’t act beyond your station; know your place.

“You’re still young and have a bright future. You might lack experience right now, but time will solve that. Just sitting in that position, you’ll rise high someday. So don’t let justice or whatever cloud your judgment and stir things up unnecessarily. I’m saying this out of concern.”

The section chief said.

“So as the Royal Intelligence Service section chief, I’m giving you my first and last order.”

Leoni said.

“Bury it.”

I remained seated in silence for a long time after she finished speaking.

Leoni looked at me for a while, then casually placed her glasses on her nose and began organizing the scattered papers on her desk, signaling it was time for me to leave.

“It seems we’re done talking, so you can go now. I have nothing more to say.”

I slowly rose from my seat and turned around.

With an attitude that could be seen as either retreating or advancing, I walked toward the door.

“…”

As the door that had opened soundlessly began to close slowly, I saw it. The intense gaze of the section chief through the gap in the door.

And I heard.

“Oh, and congratulations on your promotion, Major.”

The last words she offered.

“See you again soon.”

*

A month had passed.

At a hotel near Trinity in the Magic Tower.

It was a five-star hotel room provided by the Magic Tower. I sat on the terrace, looking down at the city.

The crowds that had filled the streets were nowhere to be seen, replaced by garbage and broken pavement blocks. Orcs and goblins wearing vests like those worn by sanitation workers picked up trash with tongs and put it in sacks, while what appeared to be civil servant mages flew around supervising the work.

If I closed my eyes and listened carefully, I could hear curfew sirens in the distance, and I noticed people standing here and there along the road holding picket signs. People who had lost their livelihoods were still demanding measures from the government.

I sat on the terrace for a long time, observing the world.

“What are you thinking about, Major?”

I turned my head at the voice and found Veronica peeking her head out onto the terrace.

“Just thinking a bit.”

“Is that so?”

Veronica approached with small steps, stretched, and looked around at the Magic Tower spread out before us.

“Whew! Ah! The air in the Magic Tower is always good. City in front, drink in hand, and beside me…”

“…”

“…a rather large bonfire.”

Veronica looked at the flames rising from the metal trash can with a sour expression. Then she glanced at me sideways, as if asking what I was burning.

“…Just burning some papers, SIM cards, this and that.”

“Aha! I guess you’re done with work?”

“Don’t you watch the news?”

“I’m not someone who watches the news; I’m someone who appears in it.”

She joked as she sat down beside me. She had a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. It was the same wine we had drunk at the villa before.

“I didn’t want to drink alone, so I brought it. You can drink, right?”

“No drinking while on duty.”

“Come on… you said you’re done with work. Stop being antisocial and come over to the next room. Everyone’s there.”

A month had passed.

During that time, the operation had ended, and the situation at the Magic Tower had more or less stabilized. In fact, the cleanup was mostly finished too.

And that was a fact both I and she, who had participated in the operation, knew well.

Just then, the announcer’s voice filling the hotel room drifted to my ears on the wind.

[Today, a contract was signed between the Kiyen Empire’s Magic Department and the Magic Tower’s Magic Department regarding magic power supply. The Magic Department spokesperson stated that the imported magic power will be prioritized for national critical facilities, medical facilities, transportation, communication, and other public facilities. Meanwhile, there’s debate about the reality that the Magic Tower has to import basic resources from the Empire…]

[The Land Development Department, along with Fatalia companies, is restoring damaged infrastructure and road networks, while also working with police and fire authorities to determine the cause of the fire and explosion in the common utility tunnel. However, due to a shortage of investigative personnel, the joint investigation team’s first report has been delayed…]

[The International Medical Cooperation Association expressed gratitude for Saint Lucia’s dedication in providing relief activities for injured protesters and police at hospitals and sites over the past month. The association’s president praised Saint Lucia’s sacrifice and dedication in respecting all lives equally regardless of race, age, gender, religion, or political beliefs…]

[The Kiyen Empire police have officially announced the end of preventive detentions that began on the 7th. The police announced plans to gradually release the 300 or so mages who were arrested…]

[The person who solved the problem of harmful creatures proliferating across the country due to the withdrawal of private military companies over the past month is just one person. According to our exclusive coverage today, that person is the continent’s biggest celebrity, the Hero…]

[The Abbas Treasury Secretary appeared before the Joint Economic Committee of both houses to answer lawmakers’ questions and discuss new measures for Abbas companies expanding overseas, including to the Magic Tower…]

[Cardinal Raphael officially mentioned Saint Lucia’s relief activities at the State Council meeting. Raphael expressed that ‘love is the only path to peace, and we must spare no effort to heal the sick world in the face of disasters and wars’…]

I looked at Veronica in disbelief.

“Love and peace? From the Church?”

“That was the most plausible speech. The old fogies are surprisingly bad at writing speeches. Raphael knows how to propagandize but is terrible at speaking conciliatorily. I helped him a bit.”

“It doesn’t match the image of the Inquisition Chief.”

“What, should he applaud the Magic Tower’s downfall and declare a holy war?”

“Wasn’t that the plan?”

“Please, don’t even say that. We barely managed to stop those stubborn old men from starting a war…”

By “stubborn old men,” she meant not secularists but fundamentalists. And not just any fundamentalists, but malicious ones. People so immersed in religion that they interpret doctrine arbitrarily and end up worshiping twisted faith. The kind of terrorists who dress Westerners in bathhouse clothes and cut their throats.

Perhaps that’s why Veronica spoke with a consistently proud tone.

Of course, the reason Veronica was in this hotel, under the watchful eye of the Magic Tower police, wasn’t because she was a saint or because she was a great person who prevented war between the Church and the Magic Tower.

“Ta-da! My real passport!”

“I’ve seen it more than five times, please stop…”

Veronica was officially a saint of the Church, but her birthplace was the Empire. In other words, she had dual citizenship.

And whether they liked it or not, the Kiyen Empire and the Magic Tower were geographically close enough for visa-free entry, which Veronica used to just openly enter the Magic Tower. The reason? To see Lucia.

“When you showed up in the hotel lobby, the police officers collapsed…”

“They were stunned by my beauty, why blame me?”

“They fell over because a saint showed up without notice.”

The Imperial Guard and the Inquisition didn’t seem to anticipate this impulsive action either, as the official cover from the Empire’s delegation and Lucia’s attendants all rushed out.

Of course, unlike using a forged passport, this entry was legally problem-free, and it would have been a diplomatic faux pas for the Magic Tower government to tell an Empire citizen who came of their own accord to leave.

They couldn’t point out her status as a saint and tell her to leave immediately either.

After protests from the Imperial Guard and Lucia’s attendants (disguised Inquisition members) who found themselves in a tight spot, the Magic Tower reluctantly provided a hotel room for the saint who had suddenly appeared.

“Anyway, you’re such a nuisance.”

“That was the only way to deliver the final draft of the speech. Why act like you don’t know?”

Of course, the real reason Veronica entered the Magic Tower visa-free was because of me.

I briefly pondered where the final draft of the speech she had given me might be. I sent the original to the Intelligence Department and burned all the copies, but I couldn’t remember if I burned them yesterday or earlier today.

I had burned so many things.

“…”

“Why so glum? Your face is already hard to look at. It’ll be a disaster if it gets worse.”

“Saint, please restrain yourself a bit, even if it’s just me here.”

Veronica was the same as always, but she had certainly done something significant. More precisely, while I was watching paramilitary operatives roam the Magic Tower, she was suppressing cardinals and bishops in the Church who wanted war, along with those who desired peace. The speech for Raphael was also her work.

I asked the saint:

“Is Lucia alright? She’s been running around emergency rooms and protest sites all month.”

While Veronica was suppressing internal reactionaries to prevent war between the Church and the Magic Tower, Lucia was saving lives in the Magic Tower.

Hospital emergency rooms, makeshift tents, protest sites.

She traveled to almost every location, treating people. When investigators barged into emergency rooms where police and protesters were mixed, she chased them out, telling them not to bring in germs. She even went to protest sites to treat people when someone died during transport.

Everyone who saw this reaffirmed that she was indeed a saint, and some non-governmental organization like Doctors Without Borders gave her a standing ovation.

Honestly, from my perspective, it was just insanity. More precisely, kind insanity.

“How can she heal people in places with tear gas smoke and magic flying around?”

“She knows how to take care of herself.”

Veronica smiled proudly at Lucia.

“I am a bit worried about her health, but she doesn’t overdo it.”

“Aren’t you concerned?”

“I made her promise before I left for Abbas.”

Then she suddenly pounded her chest.

“If she ignores that, she’s a bitch stabbing a stake in her parent’s heart!”

“…Why are you Lucia’s parent?”

“…She’s a child I raised with my heart!”

Crazy woman.

Anyway, Veronica was still the same. The only normal people around me were Camilla and Lucia, and even Lucia, who seemed normal, turned out to be half-crazy. She might be crazy in a somewhat positive direction, but crazy is still crazy.

“I don’t know why there’s no one normal around me except Camilla…”

“Are you calling me crazy? You’re not exactly normal yourself.”

“Where would you find someone as normal as me?”

After my confession that was close to a sigh, Veronica wiggled her pinky finger in her ear.

“Is that a dog barking…?”

“So what does the Church say? Lucia is getting quite a positive response in the Magic Tower right now.”

“The stubborn old men are going crazy. They’re saying we should cancel the canonization ceremony for a saint who’s being idolized by mages. But most are positive. The image has improved anyway.”

The 58th Saint calmly evaluated the 59th Saint.

“Are there many people in the Church who support Lucia?”

“People who like volunteer work and such things all support her. Even some fundamentalists support her, and secularists all like her now.”

“It would be interesting to see her go into central politics and face off against you.”

“Come on, Lucia isn’t at that level yet. By the way, what’s the Hero doing?”

Veronica crossed her arms, seemingly uncomfortable, and changed the subject. After probing a few times, it seemed she wanted to avoid the very situation of political conflict with Lucia.

Of course, since Lucia herself wasn’t interested in the Church’s central politics, it wouldn’t be an issue for now, but human affairs are unpredictable. Upon reaching that conclusion, I decided to just observe for now.

So I casually played along with Veronica.

“She’s gotten a taste for magic.”

If Lucia was saving lives in the Magic Tower, Camilla was taking lives. Not in a figurative sense, but literally. Not people, but monsters.

“She shoots a few fireballs and thinks she’s a full-fledged mage now.”

“But isn’t she cute? I’ve talked with her since meeting her, and she seems fun.”

“You were the one telling me to be careful. It’s not so fun when flames shoot up right in front of you. I told her not to go into the sewers, but she just…”

“Hahaha…”

With the Magic Tower police deploying all PMCs contracted with the government to suppress protesters, law and order nearly collapsed.

More precisely, the minor issues that public authorities found difficult to handle (monsters brought in from outside for experiments and then released, homunculi created from experimental byproducts, undead that were just dumped, etc.) were handled by PMCs, but problems arose when those personnel were deployed elsewhere.

From just this perspective, it might seem like just another issue for mages, but when something crawling through the sewers bites off a passing citizen’s ankle, it’s definitely not just another issue.

Mages are known for being mentally unstable, but the Magic Tower took it to an extreme.

“What, are there alligators in the sewers in this neighborhood?”

“Oh, I saw that. An alligator whose insides were crisply burned by magic. The Hero received the skin as a gift, right?”

“It was 13.7m, I think? Not even fully grown but incredibly large. Since it was an experimental subject, it might have started using magic if it grew larger, but fortunately it was caught early…”

Of course, Camilla handled all these problems. Along with some PMC people she got to know (in this neighborhood, PMCs aren’t private military companies but essentially adventurer groups).

PMC forces that remained for public safety rather than protest suppression joined in, some police personnel were allocated through diplomatic pressure, a few Inquisition agents were included, and I went too.

We all went on raids together.

“I think we’ve been all over the Magic Tower…”

“I heard the Hero cleaned up on bounties thanks to that.”

Of course, the Magic Tower had anticipated these problems and placed bounties on harmful creatures’ heads, which barely prevented the Magic Tower from being overrun by monsters.

And Camilla received the most bounties. She also received practical magic lessons along the way. A bit unofficial, but still.

“The Magic Tower government created an account and deposited the money there, but I’m wondering if she needs another account.”

“I know people in finance, want me to introduce you?”

“I’ll ask her and decide.”

“Okay.”

Veronica and I looked down at the Magic Tower city center and had various conversations. Most were about Camilla or Lucia, or trivial international affairs.

“Is the Empire saying nothing?”

“The bureaucrats seem unaware. The Treasury reacted a bit sensitively, but they only responded to the economic aspects. The Magic Department too, of course.”

The Empire hadn’t noticed the Abbas intelligence agencies’ operations. At least the bureaucratic society hadn’t.

“What about the Intelligence Department?”

“Wouldn’t you know better than me about that, Major?”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

Of course, we didn’t know whether the Imperial Guard and other Empire intelligence agencies had detected Abbas’s activities. Veronica didn’t know, and neither did I.

The Royal Intelligence Service and Military Intelligence remained silent even after the operation ended, unofficial covers had all returned to their home countries, and official covers were swamped with work, so there was no one to ask.

Veronica said:

“Well, the coup succeeded, so that’s good!”

“…”

As she said, the coup had succeeded. The regime hadn’t changed, but there had been several changes in the Magic Tower’s power structure.

But since I wasn’t the person who directly commanded the operation, nor did I receive reports from the operations officers, I didn’t know exactly what changes had occurred. All I knew were peripheral aspects.

However.

“How was it meeting her? Our sister.”

“…Well, not bad.”

“What kind of response is that? Why so lukewarm?”

Francesca Ranieri becoming an intelligence asset was the biggest gain I had made in the Magic Tower.

“Well, I’ll get to know her better over time. What else?”

“You’ve heard about the civil war in Mauritania, right? Their government originally exerted influence centered around the capital region, but there was a coup and the government changed. Remember that person at the Church who desperately tried to stuff gold bars in your pocket?”

“I don’t remember who that was. But what about that country’s defense line?”

“I’m not a military expert so I’m not sure, but it seems the political influence of the military that staged the coup is only being exercised in the capital. The south is being eaten by monsters and controlled by rebels, and the north is under the influence of another warlord.”

“The capital? Not the capital region?”

“I heard that while some frontline units were retreating to suppress the coup in the rear, the defense line collapsed and monsters rushed in. They swept up civilians and units alike.”

“There seem to be a lot of civil wars in Mauritania lately. I heard the south was eaten by monsters.”

The world is in chaos.

“The attendants beside Lucia.”

“Ah, yes. What about them?”

“It seems they’ve been following Lucia around and recruiting people. Targeting protesters and police who were brought to the emergency room.”

“…Does Lucia know?”

“Of course not. She shouldn’t know.”

“Then let’s keep it from her too.”

“The Kiyen Empire’s Magic Department signed a contract to export magic power to the Magic Tower, and they awarded the construction of related facilities to a Lushan Federation Kingdom construction company.”

“Weren’t they going to use existing facilities?”

“If they want to sell more, they need bigger pipes, right?”

“Looks like the Empire has stuck a straw in the Magic Tower’s wallet.”

“They’ll probably suck it dry until the money runs out.”

“When is Lucia’s canonization ceremony?”

“The Church’s canonization ceremony takes several months just for preparation. It’s almost finished now.”

“How long does the main ceremony take?”

“It finishes in a day, so don’t worry.”

“By the way, what’s this ‘Fantastic 4’ that the Hero shouted?”

“…I don’t know about that either.”

We exchanged information while lamenting the chaotic world. Although we had to be somewhat careful in our conversation due to the Inquisition’s presence everywhere, the dialogue concluded well.

“Whew!”

“Good job.”

I quietly extinguished the remaining embers, and Veronica casually threw the empty wine bottle into the corner of the room. She said she brought it for me but drank it all herself.

“Quite a bit of time has passed, hasn’t it? The others might be wondering.”

“Tell them you were in the bathroom. Don’t say you were with me.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“It’s not about embarrassment; my head will roll if there’s a scandal with a saint.”

“But you’re using a saint as an intelligence asset, so what scandal… Stop being antisocial and come quickly.”

Veronica urged me, but I gestured for her to leave.

“You’re not coming? Not just the Hero, but Francesca and Lucia are there too.”

“I want to be alone.”

“…”

Veronica, with a flushed face, was about to say something but then muttered in a small voice and quietly left the room.

Only then could I sit comfortably in my chair and look around.

Dark night.

The world viewed from the terrace was dim. In the distance, the sound of curfew sirens, some kind of shouting, and occasional bursts of magic flickered before my eyes.

A dark and chaotic world.

But people are somehow managing to live in it.

I listened to the laughter coming from the next room along with the light seeping through, sitting on the dim terrace and observing the world.

“…”

A dark world.

Although it was dark and chaotic, with a massive ceiling blocking the sky and earth.

I thought that the starlight flowing in that sky,

was shining the brightest.

## Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective

Knock knock!

In the quiet dawn.

Just as I was about to go to bed, I heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

It was Camilla.

It was a sudden visit, but I casually asked the uninvited guest who had come to my room.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I just have something to ask.”

As always, she approached me with a bright smile.

“Could you hold out your hand for a moment?”

Camilla, who had suddenly visited my room, abruptly asked me to hold out my hand. In response to her sudden eccentricity, I extended my hand with half suspicion, half puzzlement.

So our hands met.

I remained silent. Camilla quietly closed her eyes, holding my hand without saying anything.

How much time passed?

After a long silence, she suddenly spoke.

“…Major.”

Thinking about it now,

Her hand that I held then,

“You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”

Was much colder than I had thought.

## Episode 6 – The Omniscient Spy’s Perspective -END-