Ch.169Episode 10 – Turn Your Course to the North-Northwest

It feels like I just got home a moment ago, but already the morning sunlight is peeking through the curtains, tickling my eyelids.

I tried rolling over with my arms crossed, searching for a comfortable position, but failing to find one, I pushed myself up from the sofa. My head was foggy, my legs ached, my mouth felt dry, and my stomach churned. Maybe I drank too much last night.

With a disheveled face, I lifted my head to look around. This was the townhouse owned by my mother’s family in the capital of Abas. In the kitchen, there was a spilled water glass and a cheap whiskey bottle; on the living room table, an ashtray full of ashes and a crumpled cigarette pack; and I was curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. Outside the window, it was dark. Must be dawn.

With each blink of my foggy mind, the disasters of yesterday came flooding back.

Drinking with Camilla, touring famous attractions, wandering around a department store with her before meeting up with the others. Then the five of us went drinking again until dawn. I’d completely forgotten about emptying my bank account…

How did I even go to a department store with no money? The answer came in the form of receipts carelessly stuffed between my wallet.

I’d used my credit card.

“Alcohol is the enemy…”

I muttered something between a sigh and a curse while scratching my head vigorously.

I’d spent money again. I considered cutting up my credit card with scissors, but it was meaningless since the money was already gone.

Wondering if there were any other receipts, I rummaged through the messy table and found a cigarette with only a little left between the crumpled packs. After hesitating for a moment at the sight of a cigarette for the first time in 28 years, I opened the door, stepped outside with the cigarette between my lips, and lit it.

*Hiss…*

The world was dark.

As the ember glowing at the edge of my vision faded, a sigh mixed with smoke dissipated into the black void.

I crouched on the ground with the cigarette in my mouth, staring at the road shrouded in darkness. After sitting there for a while, the sky’s color changed to a faint indigo.

Then, something landed on the bridge of my nose.

I tapped the unwelcome visitor on my nose and looked up at the sky.

“…It’s snowing.”

Snow was falling from the piercingly blue sky.

I began my new day under the falling snow.

Episode 10 – Turn Your Course North-Northwest

Sitting at home on leave, chain-smoking cigarettes, reminded me of the old days.

Was it Mexico or Colombia? I remember sitting huddled together with staff members in an extremely shabby safe house, smoking cigarettes during a joint operation.

Indoor smoking in the 21st century was an uncivilized act deserving death, but we couldn’t have more than ten people going in and out just to smoke a cigarette. It was unavoidable. Moreover, we had locked the windows and drawn the curtains for fear of sound or light leaking out, so the non-smokers must have been absolutely miserable.

We waited like that for about three days, and I still remember the first words from the high-ranking official who visited the safe house last.

“Is this an opium den, you punk?”

With a sharp, crisp sound, my head snapped back involuntarily. The back of my head throbbed.

Rubbing the painful wound, I turned to see my family register mate in comfortable sleepwear glaring at me.

“What’s your problem now?”

It was my sister Adela.

“Why are you smoking cigarettes in the house? Are you crazy?”

“What? Why are you hitting my head?”

“Just because.”

She had the audacity to make such a flippant remark after smacking her brother’s head.

“What if there’s a fire? Are you going to put it out?”

“I have an ashtray right here. I even soaked a paper towel with water, so nothing will catch fire.”

“I ought to just—!”

Still half-asleep, sister Adela started yanking my hair and making a scene. She’d been complaining about stress at the Foreign Ministry lately—seems she’s finally lost it.

“Where do you learn these bad habits? Getting drunk last night wasn’t enough, now you’re smoking too? Huh?”

“Ah, ah, ah, let go. Will you let go?”

“How dare you raise your voice to your sister.”

“Why aren’t you at work?!”

“I worked the night shift yesterday, so I’m off today, punk.”

She meant she was on duty yesterday, so she had the day off today. I wondered why she wasn’t at work when it was past 8 o’clock.

While trying to fend off the gorilla aiming for my head, I desperately called for Jerry, but he was nowhere to be seen—probably already at work. That guy is never around when I need him.

In the end, I had no choice but to be caught and beaten by my sister.

Not satisfied with just shaking my head and pulling my hair, she snatched the cigarette from between my fingers and threw it out the window—

“Ah, aah…!”

“…”

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

Sister Adela quickly closed the window against the bitter winter wind, but the crumpled cigarette pack rustled forlornly in the breeze that had slipped through the gap.

I stared at the empty pack and the last cigarette that had disappeared out the window with a bewildered face and muttered.

“That was my mast…”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

*

Though there are cultural differences, information agencies are portrayed similarly across media—usually as gloomy and crazy.

In American movies and dramas, the CIA is a collection of sociopaths. They try to kill their own agents, conduct biological experiments on American citizens, and are portrayed as the shadow power and axis of evil manipulating America from behind using hidden slush funds and the dirty secrets of political figures.

British media isn’t much different. MI5 is usually shown as an organization that uses extralegal authority to monitor civilians and blackmail politicians, while MI6 is portrayed as constantly making blunders until their headquarters explodes.

China and Russia portray their agencies more positively. In these countries, depicting the government negatively might result in the person responsible disappearing for about ten days, so they try to focus on positive aspects as much as possible.

South Korea goes without saying.

Former or current NIS agents taking assassination contracts using illegally gathered information, retired intelligence officers unable to adapt to society and running junk shops or pawnshops, men in suits unnecessarily throwing their weight around, blatantly involving civilians with no connection in operations, and so on.

In short, if an incompetent, corrupt, and clueless government agency appears in South Korean media, eight times out of ten it’s an intelligence agency.

Of course, given the karma accumulated by each country’s intelligence agencies, it’s hard to dismiss such images as mere illusions and fantasies, but that’s not really the important issue, so let’s move on.

Anyway.

Despite cultural differences, intelligence agencies in media can be summarized as gloomy, crazy-natured sociopath shelters. At least in democratic countries, not dictatorships.

That’s all nonsense.

“Hey, get up.”

On Wednesday of my second week of leave, while resting comfortably at home away from the others, sister Adela’s kick struck my backside.

“What?”

“Go throw out the garbage.”

“…What?”

“Today’s recycling day. Go throw it out.”

“…”

I wanted to refuse my sister’s request, but seeing the liquor bottle in her hand, I got up from the sofa.

I dragged the blue garbage bin out of the house. According to the law, the garbage truck should go around collecting trash from each house, but unfortunately, due to residents’ requests (disguised as a flood of complaints), I had to go quite far.

So, with no choice, I trudged through the thick snow in my shabby sweatpants, making the long round trip.

“Sis! I threw out the garbage.”

“Oh, you’re back? Here, take this while you’re up.”

“…What is it?”

“Can’t you see?”

Sister Adela shamelessly handed me a shovel and broom.

“I noticed there’s a lot of snow piled up. Clean it up before it freezes.”

“…You want me to shovel snow? Now?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You just went out. Should I go instead? Just sweep the yard and sidewalk in front.”

“…”

“Oh, and pick up some things from the market on your way back. I’ll give you a list and money.”

I went outside again to sweep the snow.

The snow that had fallen overnight was piled up to my shins. I scooped up the shin-deep garbage with a shovel. It’s been a long time since I’ve done snow removal, not since my days as a platoon leader. This really sucks.

Despite cursing and constantly sweeping, the damn snow was piled up again every time I turned around.

After gritting my teeth and clearing snow for a while, I finally threw down the shovel and broom and headed to the market.

The market my sister mentioned was an organic grocery store used by the well-off middle class, and it was more than a 20-minute walk away. I would have liked to use public transportation, but seeing the buses crawling like slugs on the snow-clogged roads, walking seemed better.

So after about 40 minutes of trudging through snow, I arrived at the market.

Shaking off the snow from my legs and shoes, I received the security guard’s greeting and unfolded the crumpled memo. The palm-sized memo was filled with round handwriting.

Pasta, bread, jalapeños, jam, pâté, mandrake, crackers, green tea, black tea, coffee, coffee paper filters, magic batteries, Dragon Breath drink (some energy drink I’ve never seen before), canned goods, salmon, ready-to-eat meals…. The list was endless. If I laid it out in a single line, it might reach Mars.

And most of the items were food. Only Jerry and sister Adela use the townhouse, and Jerry doesn’t eat at home due to his schedule. So all this is food for my sister. What a gorilla.

I shopped with two carts. I tried to fit everything in one, but it was impossible, so I got another. Seeing this, the employee scanning the barcodes asked, “You must have brought a car. Did you use a parking ticket?” When I said I had no car and just needed some bags, they looked at me with pitying eyes.

By the time I left the market with both hands full of heavy bags, snow had piled up to my calves. The record-breaking heavy snowfall predicted due to the abnormal cold wave seemed to be coming true.

A biting winter wind blew. My bright red hands felt like they were stiffening.

Just yesterday I was eating and drinking with Camilla and Francesca, getting treatment from Veronica and Lucia in a comfortable hotel room. I don’t know how my situation turned out like this. Life…

Cursing myself from an hour ago for not bringing gloves, I gripped the bags tightly and carefully made my way through the snow toward home.

And about halfway there,

I stepped on a patch of ice.

“Uh, uhh…”

*Crash!*

An enormous impact shot up from my backside to my spine. The heavy bags swung like hammers, forcing me to brace myself with my elbows instead of my hands.

“Argh!”

I fell flat on my back and grabbed my elbow, screaming. I didn’t know if the bone was cracked or if the wound treated at the hospital had reopened. My eyes squeezed shut involuntarily.

This fucking hurts, goddammit.

I rolled around for a while, nursing my elbow. Then, noticing something strange about the feeling in my palm, I carefully opened my eyes to see the handle of a plastic bag dangling alone.

Whether from the impact of the fall or something else, items liberated from the torn plastic bags were rolling around in the snow.

Seeing that mess, an exclamation escaped through my clenched lips.

“…Fuck.”

*

“Are you a snowman?”

That was the first thing sister Adela said when I first entered the house.

“You’re covered in snow. I don’t know whether to call you a snowman or a yeti…”

“Shut up.”

While sister Adela disappeared with an armful of groceries, I shook off the snow at the entrance and followed her into the kitchen.

She had already found the black tea and was pouring it into the bubbling teapot. How did she find that among all those bags?

“Hey, yeti.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Eat this.”

My sister, who was brewing tea, handed me a steaming pot with a grin. Smelling it, I could tell it was baked beans.

“There’s bread too, so dip it in.”

“Did you bake it? When did you bake this?”

“It’s not what you just bought, but what was left in the house. It’s only bread, but I could fry some bacon if you want?”

I shook my head.

My sweat-soaked clothes had become stiff. Even after changing into warm clothes, I was still cold. Having trudged through snow for over an hour, I shivered as I wolfed down the lunch my sister had made.

Sister Adela clicked her tongue and handed me a mug filled with milk tea.

“Eat slowly, punk.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine. I’m not really hungry.”

She leaned back in her chair, yawning tiredly. It was quite an undignified sight, but imagining her scolding junior diplomats made me feel strangely amused.

“You must be very tired. Where’s Jerry?”

“Where would he go? He’s at the Treasury Department, of course.”

“When did he leave? I didn’t even see him.”

“He came briefly at dawn to sleep, then went back to work right away.”

I dipped bread into the baked beans and chewed.

“Are you going back to work tomorrow?”

“I guess so? But with all this snow, I probably won’t be able to go in.”

Sister Adela stirred her teacup, then put down the spoon and said,

“Jerry and I took time off next week.”

“You took vacation days?”

“Yes. Since you’re on leave for the first time in three years, we should all go see Mom and Dad.”

Although the Treasury and Foreign Ministry are government agencies, it’s hard to enjoy vacations freely. There are implicit rules in the civil service.

Of course, even if Jerry and sister Adela take vacations as they please, Father and Mother rarely get time off. That’s because they’re high-ranking officials.

So it’s unusual for vacations to overlap in this family.

It seems they’ve collectively taken time off for me.

Sister Adela said,

“When does your leave end? You’re free next week, right?”

“Probably. I have a little less than two weeks left.”

“You have two weeks left and you say ‘probably’?”

“Well, it’s the military. How would I know when something might come up?”

My sister rubbed her chin with a disinterested face. My excuse must not have been convincing.

“Be honest. It’s not the Defense Ministry, but company business, right?”

“That’s right.”

At my brief answer, my sister shook her head as if dumbfounded.

“…What an amazing workplace. Can’t even take vacation freely.”

My sister turned her head away with a half-disgusted expression, and I finished the remaining lunch while thinking.

Intelligence agencies aren’t all that special.

A handsome gentleman rolling around with beautiful women? A life where hundreds of dollars are spent on a single meal and drink? Hotel rooms overlooking beautiful resorts? A secretive job that even family doesn’t know about? I’d like to experience such things too.

Far from beautiful women, if you get caught dating a foreigner, the inspection office comes after you. The meal expenses you can spend with operational funds are limited monthly. Instead of resorts, I’ve stayed in damp, musty, shabby basement rooms with smelly old men for months because they were supposedly “safe.” Overtime is routine, and car camping and sleeping rough are common. Plus, you can’t even go home properly, so relationships with family and acquaintances become distant.

Of course, my family knows I work for an intelligence agency. More precisely, Mother and Father don’t know I’m in military intelligence, but my sister and brother do. I deliberately didn’t tell them because I remember being scolded by Mom when I mentioned working for the Defense Security Command…

But knowing doesn’t change anything.

Looking at sister Adela arguing with me about company business right now, it’s obvious how others would react. Is this why Klevins never got married…?

Anyway, intelligence agencies aren’t special. They’re just companies and workplaces like any other.

“Sigh.”

Having a comfortable body leads to too many idle thoughts. Why am I thinking about this while on leave?

I finished lunch quickly and dove onto the sofa.

“Haaah…”

The sofa was warm, probably because the heating was on.

I crawled around on the sofa, and sister Adela brought snacks and coffee and sat next to me. More precisely, she pushed my legs away and took the space.

“Don’t lie around the house like an unemployed person. What are you doing on your precious leave? Don’t you have friends?”

“I do have some, but outside the blanket is dangerous…”

“So you don’t.”

Sister Adela leaned against the sofa with a playful smile. She seemed to regret nagging her brother whom she hadn’t seen in a long time. I decided to play along and put my legs on her stomach, only stopping the joke after receiving a punch to my side.

We each found our places on the sofa and exchanged various stories.

“Come to think of it, I heard you went south. Drinking with a woman too. Did you have fun?”

“I didn’t go for fun, I went for work.”

“Work? What kind of work?”

“Umm… Just security detail…?”

Sister Adela gave me a pitiful look. Her face clearly said she couldn’t understand why I was working even on leave.

“If intelligence is providing security, this must not be an ordinary person. Is it over now? How long will you stay here?”

“That’s not it. Right now, the Foreign Ministry is handling protocol, and unless there’s a special call, I just have to wait at home.”

“…Foreign Ministry? Foreign Ministry means handling foreign dignitaries. Why don’t I know about this?”

“It’s normal not to know. It’s an unofficial visit. Don’t mention this anywhere, sis. If word gets out, a lot of people would be in trouble…”

I changed the subject.

“About that terrorist attack. Has anything come out from the Foreign Ministry?”

“I heard it was a terrorist attack by stateless terrorists from a no-man’s-land. I heard from diplomats handling security. Other countries have issued statements and sent condolences in the name of heads of government or state, but this is just a formality when major casualties occur.”

“What did the Empire or the Order say?”

“I’m not sure about the Order, but the Empire sent condolences in the name of the Chancellor. Usually, the Emperor would send them…”

“That makes sense, since the Imperial Family is heavily involved in defense and diplomacy, not just domestic affairs. But the Prime Minister sent condolences?”

“Yes. We’ve received diplomatic documents in the Prime Minister’s name many times, but it’s unusual for the Imperial Family not to respond to an incident of this magnitude. Since the Emperor has had almost no public activities in recent years, many in the Foreign Ministry find it strange.”

Sister Adela continued.

“But how have you been lately? There’s been no news for three years, and our parents have been so worried. Are you seeing anyone?”

“You mean dating?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“If you’re not seeing anyone while on leave, what do you do normally?”

“Just work. I’m too busy to meet anyone.”

“That’s something to brag about. There are many events at the end of the year. Go check them out while you’re on leave. You might meet someone nice.”

“What about you? Aren’t you getting married? Last time when I was on leave after receiving a medal, you were bragging while drunk. Said you had a boyfriend. I think I was a second lieutenant then.”

“We broke up.”

“How long did it last?”

“A week.”

“…Idiot.”

A punch fiercer than the winter wind struck my side. Sensing I’d get beaten like old times if I pushed further, I decided to keep quiet.

While I was whimpering and rubbing my side that ached as if hit with a bat, my sister, who had already turned on the TV, pointed to the weather forecast and said,

“Hey, they say it’ll be colder tomorrow. Do you have any winter clothes?”

“I… probably don’t. I’ll need to buy some.”

“Then let’s go to the department store tomorrow.”

“The department store is a bit…”

Department store? After what I went through there? My newly regrown thumb began to throb, bringing back unpleasant memories.

“Don’t ever mention department stores in our house again.”

“What nonsense is this now?”

*Ring ring ring!*

The sound of a bell. A phone call.

Sister Adela pushed aside the blanket on her lap—when did she take it?—and ran to answer the phone.

“Hello? What?”

“Who is it?”

Sister Adela held out the receiver with a puzzled expression.

“Some magazine company is looking for you?”

“Magazine company?”

“Yes.”

Is it about canceling a subscription? I’ve canceled many magazines and other things.

I tilted my head and took the phone.

“Hello.”

-“Hello. This is House of Luxury and Lifestyle. Have you recently used any of our company’s products?”

“…”

I said nothing. My sister said something beside me, but the exact content didn’t register.

After standing silently for a while, I said,

“Ah, yes. I have.”

-“Yes, customer. You recently canceled your subscription, correct?”

“Yes.”

-“We’ve sent a questionnaire to your residence to inquire about your reason for cancellation. If it’s convenient, could you participate in the survey now?”

“Yes, I can do it right away.”

-“Alright. Then please go to your mailbox and retrieve it.”

Click, the call ended.

I put down the receiver and put on my coat hanging on the wall.

Sister Adela asked with a worried face,

“What’s going on?”

“The magazine company is looking for me. I’ll be back shortly, you stay home.”

“The magazine company?”

“Yes.”

As I was about to leave after putting on my shoes, my sister’s voice followed:

“…How did they know this number?”

I walked through the biting wind toward the mailbox. The bright red mailbox was so covered with snow that it was hard to recognize.

After looking around and confirming no one was there, I took out a brown envelope from the mailbox.

I took it to the backyard.

A place surrounded by fences and trees where no one could see. I roughly brushed off the snow piled on the table with my hand and turned over the envelope to check its contents.

Inside the envelope were a car key, a notebook wrapped in plastic, and a heavy black leather case.

“If they were returning a car, they could have just left it at the door…”

I stuffed the notebook and leather case into my pocket and left the house to find the vehicle matching the key.

It’s a company call.