Ch.168Episode 9 – Old Fashioned (End)

# The employee asked if we could talk quietly. I decided to leave Camilla for a moment. Not knowing how long it would take, I told her to go ahead and eat.

We stepped out into the alley behind the bar and stood under a bright yellow streetlight.

“Would you like to smoke?”

“Sure.”

As I held out my cigarette, a lighter flicked on with a ping sound.

A bright red ember glowed between my fingers, and hazy tobacco smoke swirled upward, mingling with the pungent smell of grease.

I exhaled deeply, savoring the familiar taste I hadn’t experienced in 28 years.

Under the yellow streetlight. Two men in suits stood facing each other in a quiet back alley, with insects buzzing overhead and puddles at their feet.

“What brings you out from the company so suddenly? You still have two weeks of vacation left.”

“Ah, I didn’t call you for work, senior.”

The employee smiled awkwardly.

“Actually, I’m the director’s assistant.”

“Assistant?”

The Military Intelligence Agency has a simple organizational structure. There’s the director who leads the agency, director-level personnel who oversee each department, followed by deputy directors and section chiefs, then team leaders and regular staff. The specific titles vary by department, but that’s the general structure.

In other words, there aren’t many people called “director” in the Military Intelligence Agency. For reference, until a few months ago, I was the assistant to the Counterintelligence Director of the Military Intelligence Agency. Clevins’ official title is Counterintelligence Director.

“By director, you mean…”

“Yes. Director Hendrick.”

My successor, apparently.

“Oh my. I never got to meet him since I had to clear out my desk in such a hurry…”

“Not at all. Thanks to the manual you left behind, it was easy to adapt. Haha.”

I shook hands with the new assistant and greeted him.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure about him calling me “senior.” His face looked so worn. He must have been through a lot.

“Is the assistant job manageable? I remember being called out even after midnight many times.”

“I’m still in the adjustment period… I’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“Sounds tough. But what brings you here?”

“Ah, I came for driving. I’m here to take you home after you’re done…”

“Driving?”

The assistant scratched his head awkwardly.

“Since this is a bar… it would be problematic if you got caught driving after drinking.”

“Is the director nearby right now?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

He pointed behind him. I was shocked when I saw the bar the new assistant was indicating.

It was the bar I had just left.

“You’re joking…?”

# Episode 9 – Old Fashioned

It was true.

“Hmm?”

Following the new assistant up to the second floor. A corner seat with a clear view of the interior below, but difficult to spot from downstairs.

In that perfectly positioned spot sat a familiar old man.

“Why is the brigadier general here…?”

“Well, well. So it was true.”

The Counterintelligence Director of the Military Intelligence Agency. A colonel about to be promoted to brigadier general looked at me with a welcoming expression.

Clevins, dressed in a suit, was holding an Old Fashioned glass. He must have been having a drink.

“What brings you here, sir? It’s well past working hours…”

“Ah, I came after work. I had an appointment.”

“An appointment?”

Clevins nodded with a gentle smile.

“I was waiting at the meeting place when I heard your voice. I looked down and saw a familiar back of a head. I heard you were going out for drinks, but I didn’t expect to meet you here.”

“You heard? From whom—”

“It was a report from the Cheongpa Unit. Didn’t you talk on the phone earlier?”

Cheongpa Unit.

It’s a term for the military wiretapping unit. In other words, the Military Intelligence Agency had eavesdropped on my conversation with Sister Adela.

The former Defense Security Command once operated an organization with the same name. Their surveillance target was all wired and wireless communications within the Ministry of Defense. Whether the conversation partner was a civilian or another government agency, any communication passing through a military unit was definitely eavesdropped on, as I recall.

Why do I know this? Because I experienced it firsthand.

When I was at the Intelligence Agency, I made a few work-related calls to the National Intelligence Service, and later someone texted my personal phone asking who authorized the wiretapping. The command headquarters was in an uproar over it.

At least this is legal. It was a legally authorized activity for military counterintelligence. Of course, legal is legal, but unpleasant is unpleasant, so if you get caught, there’s always a fuss.

Maybe that’s why.

Suddenly, memories from the past surfaced, and my mood soured.

“What… there’s no need to monitor calls with family…”

“Security has been a hot topic lately, hasn’t it? Especially after those Imperial bastards snuck in so close and caused that mess.”

He was saying I should understand because it’s all for the sake of family. Whether he was genuinely concerned about Adela and my family’s safety, I couldn’t tell.

I crossed my arms and thought carefully.

“Hmm…”

Honestly, it’s not completely incomprehensible.

Even during my Intelligence Agency days, when my mother moved, the company called asking, “We heard your mother moved, did you know? Is everything okay?” What might seem like surveillance to civilians is just routine security work in our industry.

So I could understand it perfectly well.

However, what I’m unnecessarily making a fuss about is why Clevins, of all people, is here. Doesn’t he look like a loan shark coming to collect a debt?

He must have had similar thoughts because he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Ahem. There seems to be some misunderstanding. It’s not what you think, so don’t worry.”

“This seems a bit too coincidental…”

“Do you think I wanted to come here? They set the appointment at this place.”

Clevins responded with a genuinely defensive voice.

“Why are you doubting me? Am I that untrustworthy?”

Seeing the old man act like this made me feel a bit guilty.

It’s a habit problem. It’s good to be suspicious, but I have a habit of being unnecessarily worried and doubting innocent people. My colleagues always told me I seemed paranoid and should see a doctor. But deeply ingrained habits are hard to break.

With nothing to say, I hung my head like a baby quail and looked around nervously, which made Clevins click his tongue in disapproval.

“You’re really something. Isn’t it exhausting to live like that?”

“Well… it doesn’t affect my work.”

“Tsk. Who asked about your work life? I’m asking if you have problems in your personal life. A leaky basket doesn’t just leak in one place, you know.”

“…”

“Haven’t you ever heard that from people around you?”

“I don’t really meet people outside of work… Even when I was your assistant, I rarely took vacations.”

“…”

Clevins’ mouth opened slightly. He looked dumbfounded. Though he didn’t say anything, his eyes seemed to ask, “How can someone be this pathetic?” so I lowered my gaze slightly.

“You’re really something else.”

“Haha…”

“Just have a drink. You’re on vacation, so don’t just hole up in your room.”

Clevins ordered drinks through his assistant. The rookie, who had been sitting blankly sipping his beverage, quickly disappeared to the first floor.

I stared blankly at the retreating figure of the awkward rookie, then asked Clevins a question.

“You mentioned an appointment, but why are you alone? You seem to have arrived before me.”

“They haven’t arrived yet. We were supposed to meet here 30 minutes ago. I arrived 10 minutes late, and they weren’t here.”

“Ah…”

“Given there’s no contact, they must be running quite late.”

That’s what he said.

“So you’ve been sitting here alone?”

“Yes. I can’t offer drinks to someone who has to drive.”

Clevins clicked his tongue lightly. He doesn’t seem to like drinking alone. Anyway, since he has a prior engagement, I couldn’t just stay. I carefully got up from my seat, intending to return to Camilla.

That’s when Clevins looked at me and said:

“Ah, come to think of it, you’re here. Do you have a moment?”

“Pardon?”

“I was thinking, it’s lonely—how about a drink?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked if you want to have a drink.”

“…”

For a moment, I hesitated. Should I drink here? Could I drink comfortably if I went downstairs?

But when Clevins continued, those concerns vanished.

“I’ll pay for the drinks. You’re on vacation for the first time in months.”

I sat back down.

“What will you treat me to?”

“You choose. I don’t know much about alcohol.”

“Sounds good.”

*

Second week of vacation. I came up to the capital after a long time and went to a bar, only to meet Clevins.

Normally, I would have quietly left and moved elsewhere, but today is an exception.

Because I’m getting free drinks.

“Mmm.”

Sweet bourbon. Sugar cube. Rich bitter aroma.

Maraschino cherry and orange slice on a cocktail pick. Bubbling soda water. Cold droplets of condensation. The juice seeping from the cherry dissolves into the cocktail.

Before me is a work of art created with all the skill a bartender has accumulated over decades. My eyelids flutter as I savor the luxurious sweetness filling my mouth.

“How is it?”

“It’s good.”

I nodded as I set down the cocktail I had ordered. It was satisfying enough to make me nod involuntarily. The proportions were excellent, and the taste was exquisite. It seemed twice as delicious because I wasn’t paying for it.

Clink. The perfectly sized ice cubes made pleasant sounds as they moved around with my hand movements.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s just a drink.”

Though he said that, Clevins seemed pleased as he smiled and tilted his glass. His glass contained several small ice cubes, and when I asked why he added ice, he replied:

“I find it easier to drink as the ice melts and dilutes it a bit.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I must be getting old.”

“Well, how one drinks is a matter of preference.”

Where is there a standard way to enjoy a hobby? You just drink the alcohol you like however you want to drink it.

Since this neighborhood has a class-based society, drinking culture and social clubs are well-developed. Jerry and Adela are members of clubs within the Treasury and Foreign Ministry, where they drink, play cards, and socialize.

However, Clevins was known for not drinking much and not smoking. Suddenly remembering this fact, I asked him:

“I thought you didn’t drink. When did you start?”

“It just happened.”

Clevins answered vaguely. I couldn’t tell if he didn’t want to answer or if there was no particular reason.

A bus full of commuters passed by noisily, making the windows rattle. Though the windows shook and outside noise filtered in, the atmosphere inside the bar remained so peaceful that we continued tilting our glasses without concern.

I looked at Camilla, who was alone on the first floor. I was worried something might have happened to her, but she was diligently eating chicken by herself.

Seems I worried for nothing. As I was licking my lips, Clevins set down his glass and began:

“The world is quite chaotic these days, yet it’s surprisingly peaceful here. I thought something big might happen.”

“Pardon?”

“The terrorist attack. I expected a series of incidents, but nothing has happened.”

I tilted my head at the sudden mention of terrorism.

“Has something come up? I understand the details of the terrorist attack haven’t been released yet.”

“This attack will officially be attributed to stateless individuals from the no-man’s land.”

“Stateless individuals?”

Clevins nodded in affirmation.

The terrorists clearly spoke Kiyenese. Even if they truly had no nationality, it would be hard to deny their connection to the Empire. Moreover, the terrorist who acted as their leader even said he had graduated from Sejonov Medical University and worked as a doctor.

But suddenly they’re announcing them as stateless?

“What do you mean? How can they have no nationality? The ringleader was clearly—”

“Josef Alexandrovich Kovinov. Graduate of Sejonov Medical University’s Emergency Medicine Department. Served as a military doctor in the Northern 3rd Guards Mountain Brigade for three years. Final rank was captain, and he was once arrested on site for forming an unauthorized union and engaging in work slowdowns. He has a living wife and child, though they’ve been divorced for a long time.”

“…”

“I know. The investigation team didn’t slack off.”

Clevins continued his explanation.

“A request came from the Imperial Foreign Ministry. They asked us to announce all the terrorists as stateless individuals. The information about the ringleader was also passed through the embassy at that time.”

“Is this unofficial or official?”

“Unofficial, of course.”

He meant it was conveyed through undisclosed channels.

“They seem to be having quite a headache too. On the day you woke up in the hospital, the ambassador personally visited the Prime Minister’s residence to explain. He said that while some terrorists were from the Empire, the attack had absolutely nothing to do with them.”

The fact that the ambassador personally explained means it’s the official position of the Kiyen Empire’s Foreign Ministry. Thinking further, it also represents the position of the Imperial government and the Imperial family.

The words of ambassadors or consuls are never taken lightly. They represent their nations, after all. That’s common sense in diplomatic circles.

The problem is:

“Can we trust them?”

Can we trust these bastards?

“Just a few months ago, didn’t they say the same thing? That the bombing had nothing to do with the Empire. But when we investigated, it turned out the Imperial Guard was involved.”

To be precise, it was an accident caused by nobles who wanted to play with money and internal factions who disobeyed the chain of command, but that’s not the important point.

Given the precedent, I can’t take their words at face value. That’s my opinion.

However, the judgment of an individual civil servant differs from that of the government.

The Abbas government decided to trust the Imperial Foreign Ministry.

“The Foreign Ministry views this incident as a terrorist attack unrelated to the Imperial government. The Interior Ministry and Justice Ministry, which are leading the investigation, agree. The Defense Ministry’s position is the same.”

“Why?”

“Without clear evidence of who’s behind it, it’s problematic to be suspicious from the start. And it’s not good to be at odds with each other before a major event.”

“So what have you done?”

“For now, the Interior Ministry, Justice Ministry, and Magic Ministry are leading the investigation. Even though it’s terrorism, since black magic is involved, the Defense Ministry or Intelligence Agency can’t investigate alone. Of course, we’re also receiving help from the Inquisition, Imperial police, and Magic Ministry.”

People don’t often realize this, but intelligence agencies sometimes cooperate internationally. Especially on matters related to terrorism, they respond in line with international community trends.

Even Russia and China, which directly confront Europe centered around the United States, Britain, and France, tend to cooperate on counter-terrorism. Bombs and bullets don’t discriminate by nationality or race.

Naturally, that’s common sense in this neighborhood too.

To be precise, if it’s a matter related to black magic, demons, or monsters, there’s a certain level of cooperation. In reality, they only help when it suits them, but still.

Anyway, the fact that the Empire is cooperating with the investigation suggests this really might be a terrorist attack unrelated to the Empire.

“…”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, but my mind isn’t working well.

I scratched my head somewhat irritably and asked:

“What about the cargo? The cargo the terrorists brought in. Has it been identified?”

“You mean the device linked to black magic?”

“Yes.”

“Investigation revealed it’s a device that physically and non-physically separates a specific area. It blocks everything—organisms, inorganic objects, radio waves, and magical power.”

He says it’s a device that blocks everything—people, objects, communications, anything. It sounds like science fiction, and as someone who can’t use magic, it’s hard for me to understand, but Clevins added for my benefit that it works on principles similar to protective magic or sorcery.

“If it’s protective magic, isn’t that used in anti-magic defense equipment? I remember seeing propaganda about the Empire introducing equipment to block shells…”

“That’s probably right. I’m not a magician, so I don’t know much, but according to the researchers’ explanation, it’s similar to protective magic or sorcery.”

Protective magic and sorcery are difficult fields to research.

First of all, like all magic, they consume enormous budgets, but that’s secondary. To systematically research such magic, you must obtain government permission. Most people capable of researching such magic are also under surveillance. And there aren’t many of them to begin with, so it doesn’t matter much.

I wonder where they got such an item. I’m curious about its origin.

“It’s said to be an item obtained from demons.”

“What?”

“The exorcist priests from the Inquisition confirmed it.”

Exorcist priest. That term made the alcohol buzz fade instantly.

An exorcist priest literally means a cleric who drives out demons. Simply put, an exorcist, like Constantine.

Of course, in a global village that doesn’t believe in superstitions, this might be dismissed. But in this neighborhood, where lightning shoots from people’s fingers and corpses break out of coffins to suck blood, religion plays a crucial role. Exorcist priests are specialists in solving problems related to demons, demonic tribes, and black magic.

In fact, when incidents involving undead or demons occur, the Magic Ministry sometimes officially requests exorcist priests. Their duties slightly overlap with inquisitors and holy knights, but I don’t know the exact difference. I’m not religious.

But an exorcist priest from the Inquisition personally confirmed this? That’s almost certain.

“After securing the scene and the materials you left behind, we formally requested help from the Inquisition. The diocese explained that it might take years for an exorcist priest to arrive, but when we showed them the device, one arrived within four days.”

“Is it that serious?”

“It seems so.”

“Damn…”

I thought it was just a common terrorist attack, but suddenly there’s talk of demons and exorcist priests. I have no idea what’s going on.

Even as I gulped down my drink in frustration, Clevins continued his explanation.

An exorcist priest arrived by sea four days after the joint investigation team made a formal request. The exorcist toured the department store where the terrorist attack occurred, met with civilians who had been held hostage, and confirmed the device by sprinkling holy water on it before requesting support from the Inquisition.

That’s how inquisitors and holy knights came rushing in. Following the diocese’s explanation that they needed to go to the no-man’s land, the government assigned military units and investigation personnel from the joint investigation team to guide them, and a force exceeding a platoon in size went to the village the terrorists had mentioned and conducted inquiries for several weeks.

“They secured testimony that the villagers purchased the device from a merchant they frequently contacted. The merchant reportedly spoke Kiyenese with a Moritani continental accent.”

“Wait, how did you even find out where this village was?”

“We interrogated the captured terrorists.”

He means they beat it out of them. Whether they tortured them or threatened and persuaded them, Clevins didn’t seem to want to discuss this topic.

He dismissed all my speculations.

“While the investigation is still ongoing and there’s not much concrete information, what we do know for certain is that the device used in the attack came from demons and is connected to the Moritani continent.”

“Yes, I heard that a Royal Intelligence Agency employee investigating magical artifacts in the Moritani black market had an accident… Is there any other information?”

“Nothing unusual. Except that the merchant bought herbs and game collected by the villagers and sold food, medicine, potions, and other items that would help with survival… Ah, come to think of it, he also took people.”

“People?”

“He said he was taking children from the village to school to teach them. There are letters and photos supposedly from these children, and occasionally they would return to the village, stay for a few days, and then leave again.”

They entrusted children to a merchant? And believed he was educating them?

It sounded too absurd to take seriously, but Clevins seemed to have a different perspective.

“The village has been trading with this merchant for at least 50 years. And it’s the same individual.”

“You’re saying they’ve been trading with the same person for 50 years?”

“Yes. The elder who remained in the village said he’s been coming to the village since the elder was a child, and he hardly aged at all.”

“…”

Eternal youth that doesn’t age. Even though I’m not religious and don’t understand magic, this is too suspicious.

Clevins added that the villagers vaguely knew something was strange, but since there had been no problems for 50 years and the merchant had been a great help to the village, they kept quiet about it.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my face with my hands.

“Of all things to get caught by the Inquisition…”

“It’s not something you need to worry about. Nor the Military Intelligence Agency. The Inquisition has taken over, so don’t concern yourself with it. It’s better for your mental health.”

“But a child born in the no-man’s land going to school doesn’t make sense… Did they forge identities?”

“That’s unknown.”

Clevins laid out all the information about the terrorist investigation. The structure and principles of the device, its origin, information obtained by the Inquisition, information provided by the Empire…

Incidentally, the institution investigating the device used in the terrorist attack was one I knew well.

“The Advanced Military Magic Research Institute? Are they investigating it?”

“They’re conducting a joint investigation with the Royal Magic Research Institute. The latter is mainly helping by searching through literature.”

“How’s that going? Are they still investigating spies?”

“Industrial espionage? Ah, that’s already been resolved well. They concluded that all involved parties had no suspicious points, so they only indicted the captured spy and closed the investigation.”

“That’s a relief…”

I sighed in relief, stroking my chest. I had spent a few weeks running around there. If there had been another spy, I might have fallen ill from stress.

Fortunately, it seems there are no more problems besides the spy we captured. I happily tilted my glass and grinned.

“That’s good. What about the Magic Tower? Isn’t the Royal Intelligence Agency running some operation there? I understand our company is also participating.”

I became curious about the secret operation at the Magic Tower. After all, I had worked hard at the research institute because of an industrial spy sent from the Magic Tower, and I had also been at the Magic Tower myself.

But Clevins firmly refused to answer.

“I can’t tell you about the ongoing operation at the Magic Tower. All I can say is that it’s a long-term plan that has been in preparation for a long time.”

His attitude was so resolute that I felt slightly offended. He said he couldn’t reveal it due to security reasons, but it felt strange that I, who had participated in the operation, couldn’t hear about it.

However, I was too timid to openly complain, so I could only sit with a sulky face. Of course, I didn’t openly frown, just internally.

But I couldn’t fool the eyes of Clevins, who had been an investigator for over 20 years. Despite the alcohol, his instincts weren’t dulled, and he immediately read my thoughts from my face.

“What? Are you upset because I won’t tell you?”

“No, I just… I thought Ranieri would be directly appointed to the Oracle, but making him a high-ranking official in the Secretariat seems a bit strange.”

Clevins just smiled silently.

“You’re not planning to actually make Ranieri an Oracle member, are you…?”

“That, of course, I can’t tell you.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Ahem…!”

Clevins seemed to choke, setting down his glass and clearing his throat before starting to laugh. What a spiteful old man…

“Alright, alright. I’ll tell you just this much.”

Clevins pulled out a few tissues, wiped his mouth, and slowly began his story.

“The Oracle has nine members in total. Currently, the Elemental School holds the most seats. Of course, you know where those members are from?”

“I understand they’re from the Empire.”

The Oracle governing the Magic Tower consists of nine members, including the Tower Master who also serves as the chairperson. Just nine people control the entire magical society.

“Then you understand the influence the Empire can exert on the Magic Tower.”

“…”

“According to analysis by the Foreign Ministry and Royal Intelligence Agency, based on various factors including diplomatic relations between the Magic Tower and the Empire, geography, culture, economy, politics, industry, population ratio, language, and education, within 10 years, the Empire will secure at least 3 seats, possibly up to 5.”

A key feature of the Magic Tower’s Oracle is that just ⅓ of its members can veto any proposal. It’s a mechanism to prevent dictatorship.

And the Empire keeps inserting their lackeys into this Oracle? That’s a terrifying future.

With just one-third in agreement, most proposals can be thrown out. What would happen if the Empire gained a majority?

I don’t even want to imagine.

I downed my drink, shuddering at the thought of those damn Imperial bastards causing trouble again.

“Just making Ranieri an Oracle member wouldn’t be enough. What kind of plan are you drawing up…?”

“That’s classified. If you’re really curious, get a jade clearance. Then you can access it freely.”

“What level?”

“Level 1.”

“…”

What is this? Is he telling me not to look at it?

My mind went blank for a moment at the mention of obtaining a Level 1 jade clearance, something I could never dream of. Is he joking? But looking at Clevins’ expression, he seemed serious.

“Don’t worry too much. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Think about it.”

Clevins crumpled up a tissue, pushed it aside, and tapped the table.

“The merchant who sold the device used in the terrorist attack spoke Kiyenese and took children somewhere, claiming to educate them. Whether it was purely for educational purposes or if there was some ulterior motive, we don’t know. But where would he take those young children to teach them? He couldn’t have gone far, right?”

“True. He probably took them to a country adjacent to the village.”

“The magician designated as an Oracle member is an Imperial noble. The soon-to-retire Tower Master and two other current members are also from the Empire. The hero will soon head to the Empire, but will these people really just stay at the Magic Tower?”

“Probably not.”

The merchant spoke Kiyenese and took children somewhere. Most likely to the Empire, as it’s geographically closest to the village.

There are four Imperial magicians associated with the Magic Tower Oracle. When Camilla goes to the Empire, they’re likely to come too, whether they receive an invitation from the Foreign Ministry, an order from the Imperial family, or come of their own accord.

Coincidentally, both point to the Empire.

“Are you starting to see the picture?”

“…”

“Nothing is certain, but something is happening in the Empire. The southward movement of demons, the Magic Tower issue, black magic, and everything else.”

“Um, do you have evidence for saying this…?”

“It’s just a hunch.”

“Oh, please…”

He spoke as if he knew something, which got me excited, but it turns out it’s just his personal theory. I held my forehead in frustration, but Clevins brushed my arm away and continued.

“Did you always act with clear evidence?”

“Well… no.”

“Exactly. This is no different. That’s why your role is important.”

The 20-year veteran investigator and Counterintelligence Director of the Military Intelligence Agency pointed at me.

“We have many people in the Imperial branch, but there are few who are familiar with Imperial affairs and have connections to both the Church and the Magic Tower. Plus, there are no employees with the justification to directly address hero-related issues like you.”

It sounded like the ramblings of a drunk old man, but due to the aura Clevins exuded, it strangely sounded plausible. In fact, Clevins wasn’t the type to talk without any conviction…

Is there really something in the Empire?

I fell into thought for a moment.

“…”

Let’s assume Clevins is right. That there really is something in the Empire.

I have to go to the Empire soon on orders from the Military Intelligence Agency, my party includes key figures from the Church and Magic Tower, and I’m friendly with them. Whether I like it or not, I’ll inevitably be entangled with terrorism or the Oracle. As long as I’m with Camilla and Lucia, being targeted by terrorist groups is unavoidable. Above all, Francesca is my informant. As a member of the Magic Tower Secretariat, she’s bound to have contact with Oracle members.

Setting all that aside.

If the company tells me to track down the merchant who sold items to the terrorists or to recruit an Oracle member, I have to do it. I even have justification since I experienced the terrorism firsthand.

“…Sigh.”

At this point, it seems like heaven is pushing me. If there is a god, he might be nudging me to act as a spy.

Is this why I always get loaded with work?

But why is my salary stagnant?

With these thoughts in mind, I asked Clevins:

“So… if I join the newly established department, will I be handling such tasks? Investigating terrorism or matters related to the Magic Tower government?”

“You might. Though not just those two. There’s also the hero issue.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

This is really getting complicated.

I wish that was just my delusion, but unfortunately, Clevins nailed the coffin shut.

“So rest well now. You never know when you’ll get another chance.”

“You’re not even giving me a choice. Where’s your conscience?”

“Then write a resignation letter.”

“If I bring it now, will you accept it?”

“I’m not the personnel authority, but bring it and let’s see what happens. I’m curious too. How about a bet? I’ll wager 500 shillings that your resignation won’t be accepted. Haha.”

“…”

Clevins laughed with a flushed face. I want to punch my superior right in the philtrum.

I pressed my throbbing temples, mixed with the effects of alcohol, and changed the subject. I need to finish this quickly and have a drink with Camilla.

“When will the department be established?”

“The people are ready. As soon as your position is decided, they’ll gather quickly.”

“Then who will be my superior? Will you be the department head, Colonel… no, Brigadier General?”

“Hmm…?”

Clevins asked me with a playful smile.

“Why would I oversee overseas operations? I’ve spent my entire career domestically. Your superior is someone else. You’ll recognize them immediately when you see them.”

“What?”

Just then, the sound of someone coming up from behind was heard.

“Here they come.”

Clevins pointed behind me, and I naturally turned my head.

The stairs leading to the second floor. With the creaking of wood, someone’s crown began to appear. The rookie assistant who had been sipping his drink through a straw hurriedly ran over to bow in greeting.

The uninvited guest, accompanied by several men in suits, glanced at the rookie, patted his shoulder a couple of times, and began walking.

Towards us.

Piercing eyes and an intense gaze. A mischievous, troublesome face that remained vibrant despite the passage of years.

The Director of the Royal Intelligence Agency, who had previously served as the head and branch director of the Military Intelligence Agency.

“A familiar face, I see.”

“You’re late.”

“Traffic was heavy on the way home.”

Leoni grinned and extended her hand to me.

“Is this the first time we’ve met since the committee? I said we’d see each other soon, but I’m a bit late.”

“…”

“It’s been a while, Major. Let’s work well together like old times.”

She’s back.

*

After finishing my business, I quietly left and returned to the first floor, my shirt damp with sweat.

It feels uncomfortable.

“…Haa.”

I took off my jacket and tossed it aside carelessly. The cool winter breeze came in and chilled my skin. Camilla, who had been chewing on soggy french fries while looking out the window, turned to look at me.

“Are you done? That took quite a while.”

“…”

“What was it about? Seeing how you called them ‘senior’ earlier, perhaps…”

“Camilla.”

“Yes?”

Let’s just drink.

…

“Alright. You look tired, so we’ll talk later.”

I slumped heavily into the chair, and Camilla looked at me with a puzzled expression before taking out the menu.

Too exhausted to speak, I pointed at items with my finger and quietly closed my eyes. Camilla said she understood and organized the menu.

A waiter scurried over and asked:

“May I take your order?”

# Episode 9 – Old Fashioned – END –