Ch.130Episode 7 – Daily Life

I received a request from the British woman who had taken over my room. A truly perplexing request, or rather, at this point it was practically blackmail.

“Tell me!”

“No, why should I tell you that? I’m telling you I don’t know?”

“Liar!”

“…Good grief.”

I tried to come up with a plausible lie, but unfortunately, the more I pushed Camilla away, the more tenaciously she clung to me.

Camilla was throwing what could only be described as a childish tantrum or obsessive behavior that didn’t match her age. She was a woman who showed stubbornness in the strangest ways.

In the end, I genuinely regretted my choices as I looked at Camilla, who was half-slumped over while clutching my clothes.

“…Fine, fine! Just please sit down first!”

I should never have joined the intelligence agency.

Episode 7 – Daily Life

Peace finally arrived after the storm had passed. It was a fleeting peace.

Camilla, who had been throwing a tantrum with fierce determination, seemed to have calmed down as she sat quietly in her place staring at me, while I endured her piercing gaze in stoic silence.

What should I do?

“……”

I needed to organize my thoughts. I slowly turned my exhausted mind to retrace how the situation had come to this point.

First, Camilla knows who I am. To be precise, she knows who “I” am, not “Frederick Nostrum.” Where I came from, what I did, and so on.

Of course, Camilla doesn’t know everything about me right now, and I had absolutely no intention of explaining it all in detail, but the key point is that Camilla knows my true identity.

But the problem doesn’t end there.

Camilla seems to have figured out my current position to some extent. In other words, she’s realized that I’m not a resident officer suddenly selected by divine oracle to be a figurehead, but an intelligence officer belonging to a military intelligence agency.

This was entirely my fault. Camilla is the type whose mind works suspiciously well, and I failed to anticipate that. If I had been a bit more cautious, things wouldn’t have come to this.

But that doesn’t matter now. There are no “ifs” in this world.

What’s important is that Camilla has figured out my position.

And that she’s making unreasonable demands of me.

“…What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tradecraft. Oh, is that not the official term?”

“……”

What she was asking me for was the techniques and methods used by intelligence officers—intelligence agency personnel—in their practical work.

“Why on earth do you want to know about that?”

“Well, I developed a fascination after watching 007…?”

“……”

“That’s a joke. Actually, I’m very interested in intelligence agencies. If I had to say, it’s more about curiosity.”

A very honest answer.

At this point, I decided to stop lying. So I told her honestly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Reasons? There were plenty.

“Do you realize it takes at least a year to learn that stuff?”

Time is the first issue.

“Basically, when you join an intelligence agency, they gather you somewhere for six months to a year just for theoretical education and training. Domestic intelligence, foreign intelligence, intelligence analysis, counterintelligence, counterterrorism, security, psychology, forensics. Plus marksmanship, airborne training, survival skills, map reading, specialization training. They teach all of that.”

Intelligence agencies teach new recruits almost everything they might need in the field. Because they don’t know which department a new intelligence officer might be suited for.

So intelligence agencies provide as much education and training as possible. This takes up at least a full year. It takes a year just to teach the basics.

And during that period, they don’t just provide education and training—they also conduct tests. Written exams, practical tests, you name it.

To be blunt, I didn’t have the confidence to teach Camilla such things. I lacked the ability since I’d never been an instructor. Though truthfully, I wouldn’t have taught her even if I had the ability.

“There’s so much to learn over that year, and you want me to teach you all of it? Be reasonable.”

Camilla blinked her bright, attentive eyes.

“I already know the theory, you know?”

“What theory?”

“In England, we have National Intelligence Studies as a university course. I took that. Terrorism is even included in my major subjects, and I’m minoring in psychology.”

“That’s the problem.”

The problem is terminology.

“Since you studied at university, you know what National Intelligence Studies is as an academic field, right?”

“Yes.”

National Intelligence Studies is, as the name suggests, the academic study of national intelligence.

It’s an academic field that researches intelligence agencies’ activities such as intelligence collection, intelligence analysis, covert operations, and counterintelligence activities, as well as counterterrorism, cyber warfare, international organized crime, and various countries’ intelligence agencies.

While this academic field is quite unfamiliar in South Korea, the United States and the United Kingdom are the birthplaces of National Intelligence Studies, so it’s not particularly strange that Camilla, who attends Cambridge, has taken such courses.

However,

“The terminology is different.”

National Intelligence Studies is an academic field without anything that could be called international standard terminology or guidelines.

National Intelligence Studies has a different texture from typical social science or natural science disciplines.

“I don’t know what terms are used in the UK, and Camilla doesn’t know what terms are used in South Korea. How am I supposed to teach when even the terminology is different?”

There were many other reasons, but to summarize in one line, the conclusion is this:

I cannot teach Camilla.

Realistically, it was impossible.

“Even if I wanted to teach you, there’s no way, no way at all.”

“……”

I finished with a slight sigh. My head was pounding as I tried to explain everything in detail with my exhausted body.

To be honest, I was hoping she would give up and leave at this point. I thought since she was intelligent, she would understand and back off.

But surprisingly, Camilla didn’t bat an eye and said:

“Then can’t you at least teach me the physical skills?”

“No, you cannot.”

*

To be honest, I was worried that I might have been too harsh in refusing Camilla’s request.

After all, she had woken up in a strange world and ended up on an adventure she never asked for. Camilla was essentially in a kidnapped situation.

Whether she was intelligent or curious, falling into another world would inevitably cause changes in Camilla’s state of mind.

And now she had been rebuffed by a fellow countryman she met for the first time in months, so I was concerned that Camilla might have been hurt by this.

She wasn’t.

“Good morning!”

“Uh… um… yes. You’re energetic today as well.”

When I went to the dining hall for breakfast the next day, Camilla greeted me with her usual demeanor.

“So, you still don’t want to teach me?”

“I told you I can’t.”

Camilla continued to make unreasonable requests with her usual vibrant attitude. The next day, and the day after that.

Camilla, who used to approach me only after I got off work, now started talking to me in the mornings before I went to work.

And even:

“Director. With all due respect, our Ministry of Foreign Affairs firmly maintains the position that there is no legal basis for Abas to bear the costs incurred by the Saint’s medical activities. It would be more conducive to an amicable resolution if you were to inquire at the Order’s Consulate General nearby…”

“Um, Section Chief?”

“Just a moment. …Yes, what is it, Pippin? Is it a communication from home?”

“No, it’s not that. Security called. They say the Hero is downstairs right now?”

“……”

Camilla even came to the diplomatic mission where I work.

In principle, diplomatic missions are facilities where only people with appropriate visit purposes and thorough background checks can enter. This is because security is important. However, Camilla had virtually no means to prove her identity (England doesn’t exist here) and didn’t even have a clear purpose for her visit, so “in principle” she couldn’t enter the mission.

“Wow, is this where you work?”

“…Ah, yes. Yes.”

“It’s spacious.”

But who could possibly stop her?

No one could stop her, whether it was the representative, the information management director, or the defense attaché office director. Thanks to this, Camilla was able to roam the defense attaché office like an archaeologist exploring ruins, while I could only tremble as the intelligence officers gave me looks that clearly said “please get her out of here.”

Morning, noon, and evening.

All day long, Camilla would find me and subtly pressure me. This was practically blackmail. It’s like being robbed without a knife.

However, I couldn’t just complain about this to anyone. My already damaged interpersonal relationships meant I had no one to confide in comfortably. I wasn’t even on good terms with my family, so who could I turn to for advice?

“……”

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I had no choice but to seek out the information source.

*

The world is vast, and there are many weirdos in it. If you ask what defines a weirdo, it’s hard to give a simple answer, but everyone can agree that there are many weirdos in the world.

And as luck would have it, there was one right in front of me.

“Why the sudden hostility?”

“Take it as me being comfortable enough with the Saint to speak freely.”

“Always running your mouth… tsk…!”

Veronica clicked her tongue and pouted, muttering that I’d be less dislikable if I couldn’t speak.

“So what brings you here? You’re the one who sought me out this time.”

“Indeed.”

I didn’t know why I had come to Veronica either.

I really didn’t know.

Pippin, Jake, Clebins, Leonie, Sophia, Dmitriae, and also Sister Adela and Brother Jerry.

Why had I come to Veronica, bypassing all the people who knew my identity for certain and whom I could trust?

Perhaps, subconsciously, I considered her the easiest person to talk to. Even though I knew full well that I shouldn’t be like this with an informant.

“…That’s how it is.”

I explained to Veronica what had been happening. Of course, I omitted the details about my and Camilla’s backgrounds, and the specifics of Camilla’s request.

After hearing my story, which was a mix of truth and lies, Veronica’s response was simple.

“Ah, so that’s why you two have been sticking together lately?”

Veronica smirked as she half-reclined on the sofa, puffing away at her cigarette.

“We’re not sticking together. Camilla is the one following me around.”

“And here I thought… you two were dating…”

Dating? Who’s dating?

“Well, anyway… the point is that our Hero wants to learn something from you, Major? Though I’m not exactly sure what.”

The Saint tapped her cigarette on the ashtray and exhaled a thin stream of smoke. I responded with the story I had just concocted.

“Yes, she says she wants to learn magic.”

“Oh, I think you’re lying right now, Major. Why are you hiding things? Between us?”

“It’s the truth. Wait, how would you even know if I’m lying or not, Saint?”

“Hmm… intuition?”

Veronica trailed off with a mischievous grin, and I couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. She’s always so quick to catch on.

I really need to either train her properly or bury her somewhere quickly.

As I was having these pointless thoughts, Veronica, who had been lying on the sofa, suddenly jumped up with a frown.

“…Major, did you just think something extremely disrespectful?”

“Pardon…?”

“Tsk! This is suspicious…”

“Ah, please stop saying weird things. I beg you.”

“Why are you so agitated today? If you die like this, people will think you died from excessive excitement. While with me.”

“Saint, as I’ve told you many times, please stop this bull-“

“Alright, alright. Can’t you take a joke…?”

Veronica, acting childish despite her age, put the cigarette back in her mouth and sprawled on the sofa again.

“Anyway, the Hero asked you to teach her something. And you don’t want to teach it. Is that right?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… awkward.”

“Hmm….”

The Saint gently closed her eyes and tapped her furrowed brow with her finger, deep in thought. With her good looks, she resembled a beautifully crafted holy painting.

…Except for the cigarette between her fingers, that is.

“Well, I’ve got a good idea.”

“And what might that be?”

Veronica pulled up one corner of her mouth in an annoying smile.

“Just teach her something half-heartedly and be done with it.”

“What did you say?”

“Think about it. If someone desperately wants something but you don’t want to give them everything, just giving them a small piece is an option, right?”

“……”

“I don’t know what the Hero wants to learn, but just teach her something superficial and end it. Or teach her poorly.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What did you just say…?”

“Teach her superficially? Anyway, wrap this up quickly. Don’t suffer needlessly anymore. Go look in a mirror. Are you even human right now? You’re more like a walking corpse.”

At that moment, I felt as if the cosmic energy of the universe was embracing me.

That’s it.

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I jumped to my feet, and Veronica, startled, reached out her hand only to burn her finger on the cigarette she was holding.

-Clunk!

“Ah, what the! Why are you suddenly jumping up like that?! I almost burned my finger because you startled me!”

“Saint, I think you’re truly brilliant.”

“W-w-what’s with you all of a sudden…?”

There was no time to answer.

Leaving behind Veronica, who was wide-eyed as if she’d seen a ghost and clasping her hands tightly, I left the room to find Camilla.

And as soon as I rushed out to the hotel lobby, I ran into Camilla, who was trudging in with both hands full of plastic bags.

“Camilla!”

“Oh, Major?”

“You asked me to teach you techniques, right? The physical skills used in the field.”

“Y-yes…?”

“Want to learn now?”

Whether she was dumbfounded or not, Camilla didn’t give any answer. She met my gaze, blinking her bright eyes, then pointed at the clock hanging in the lobby and whispered in a small voice.

“It’s 3 AM…?”

0327 hours.

The perfect time for a light workout.

=

Kieeeeeek! Inhuman quality, Teshaaaaaa!

This is Camilla Lowell’s personal illustration! It’s been over a week since I put it on the cover, but I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Yanggaeng-wang once again!

And my novel has been featured on Novelia’s main page for the past week.

This is all thanks to the grace of you readers who have believed in and supported me.

I will continue to show you that I won’t become arrogant or lazy, but will keep working diligently.

Thank you!