Ch.179Episode 10 – Turn Your Course to the North-Northwest

# For Those Preparing for the New Millennium

For those preparing for the new millennium, being told to live in an 18th-century building without electricity was no different from being asked to live completely disconnected from civilization.

Thus, unlike the exterior of the mansion which preserved its antique charm, the interior had undergone modern renovations.

I muttered as I took ice cream out of the refrigerator.

“It’s Lapin.”

Jerry, who was making a sandwich, asked.

“The ice cream? Or the magazine?”

“Obviously the ice cream. Why would I take a magazine out of the refrigerator?”

Lapin is a company specializing in ice cream sales in Frangia, which borders Fatalia.

The reason my brother mentioned magazines was because Lapin produces ice cream while also publishing men’s magazines. For reference, Jerry was once caught by the dorm supervisor at the Academy for passing around Lapin magazines.

I casually remarked while looking for a spoon.

“Brother. Be honest. Do you still look at that stuff?”

“Do I look like I would?”

I answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“You little…”

Just as I was heading to the dining room with a spoon in one hand and an ice cream container in the other.

“…Huh?”

There was someone I didn’t recognize lying on the living room sofa. With long hair, they looked like a woman, but it wasn’t my mother or sister Adela.

Wondering if a relative had come to visit, I slowly approached the sofa.

But,

This,

The more I looked, the more familiar that back of the head seemed—

“Oh?”

Someone was lying on the sofa with a cushion under their head. The slight dark circles under their eyes suggested they were quite tired.

I carefully placed the spoon and ice cream container on the table.

And then,

“Hey, you—”

“……”

“You little shit!”

“Hieeeek…!”

I flipped over the sofa.

## Episode 10 – Turn Your Course to North-Northwest

In a tranquil, old-fashioned mansion in the western region. Merciless violence descended upon the estate.

The sofa, large enough to comfortably fit three or four people, was overturned, and the person who had been defenseless in dreamland tumbled to the floor.

Long, straight black hair like ebony, though not as much as Veronica’s.

A tall, graceful figure and radiant appearance inherited from the maternal side.

Blue eyes distinctly different from those of the Nostrim family.

Ayla.

I rushed toward my sister, who was using the sofa to push herself up.

“Jet kick!”

“Ugh…!”

Forcibly dragged from her warm dreamland and thrown into cold reality, Ayla tried to get up with trembling limbs but collapsed face-first onto the floor.

One hit and she went down with a groan.

Seeing someone barely in their mid-twenties rolling on the floor made my heart ache, but unfortunately, I was a feminist.

So I could say with such a confident attitude:

“Stand up straight, Ayla.”

“Ah, uh, uh, uh…”

“Ayla, get up. You’re my sister.”

Smack!

I slapped the back of her head with my palm, and Ayla snapped to attention. That seemed to wake her up completely.

She frantically rubbed her small head with both hands, messing up her hair, then jerked her head up and glared at me.

“Ouch…!”

I hit her once more.

*

“I go abroad and find you’ve taken money from my account without saying a word. Are you even human?”

“Nnngh…”

Ayla got up using the sofa for support, pounding her back with her fist like an old person. With a face full of humiliation and shame, she hung her head low and began fixing her disheveled hair.

Until a few months ago, Ayla had been a NEET.

Despite having a college degree, she couldn’t find a job and spent years living at home, eating and playing. Quite unlike her appearance.

Thinking she might not settle down even after turning thirty, the lady of the Nostrim family kicked Ayla out of the house. For a while, she managed to get by with help from her three siblings, alternating between staying at the townhouse in the capital and my official residence.

For reference, the money she spent freely was what I had given her. To be precise, it was a card I gave her to buy food. There’s nothing more depressing than seeing someone go hungry.

But this jerk had custom-tailored a suit while I was away. With money I’d given her to buy food.

If she had any conscience, she should have had nothing to say.

She must have some conscience, as she could only mutter feeble excuses.

“That just sort of happened…”

“Ah! So our dear sister just ‘happens’ to get suits tailored?”

“……”

Ayla was about to say something but hesitated. She pondered for a long time. I was curious about what she would say, so I kindly waited.

After about a minute, Ayla, who had been contemplating with a complex expression, cautiously spoke up.

“…The company has a casual dress code, but I didn’t have anything suitable to wear to work.”

“So you used my account to get a formal suit?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do with all the allowance you received? You seemed to be saving up.”

“…I lost it.”

“On what?”

“…Horse racing.”

“That’s something to be proud of, you idiot.”

I gently patted the back of my lovely sister’s head. I really wanted to slam her to the ground after hearing she’d blown all her allowance on gambling, but since it wasn’t my money to begin with, I held back.

Still, she’s family, so I can’t kill her, but what should I do?

I rhythmically tapped the back of Ayla’s head with my palm and spoon while thinking deeply.

How much could I extract from her?

So far, Ayla has taken about 10 million won from me.

She cleaned me out once when I was saving my meager lieutenant’s salary to buy a used car, and recently again for that suit.

Ayla is a magician.

Though her career is short, magicians traditionally earn a lot of money, like Jewish people, and are relatively preferred high-quality personnel in a job market that keeps proving there’s a bottom below rock bottom as they dig basement after basement.

In other words, Ayla will earn much more than me once she gains a few years of experience.

With a financial sense rivaling Yongsan electronics dealers, I quickly calculated and looked at my sister with a bright smile.

“Ayla, my dear sister.”

“Uh, uh, what is it, brother…?”

“You’ve had a hard time finding a job, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“While I’m being nice, pay back the money you borrowed. Considering our relationship, I’ll exclude food expenses and allowances, and charge less interest than commercial banks.”

“……”

“Answer me.”

“Okay…”

I smiled brightly as I made the agreement with Ayla. It felt like I’d acquired a goose that lays golden eggs.

My brother, who works at the Treasury Department, watched and asked, “Are you human or a dark elf?” but added that if we don’t write a promissory note, the tax office might consider it a gift, so we should get it notarized by a lawyer. Then he went to the dining room.

*

After concluding a very satisfactory contract with my sister, I arrived at the dining room. We’ve already prepared the promissory note, which we’ll take to a lawyer later.

Normally, the most efficient and effective way to establish a contractual relationship with a magician would be to make a vow, but that’s usually reserved for mortal enemies or people risking their lives for a once-in-a-lifetime score, so we didn’t go that far.

Anyway.

Today, I obtained a lamp with a genie that grants wishes when rubbed.

Actually, instead of a blue genie, it’s a lamp that produces money, but in a capitalist society, money can do almost anything, so there’s not much difference.

If there’s something money can’t buy, you might need to consider whether you simply don’t have enough of it.

When I shared this thought, Adela responded:

“That’s garbage.”

While eating ice cream, I raised my middle finger.

“You little shit, talking to your sister like that.”

“Is it normal for a sister to call her brother garbage?”

“Don’t hit me with facts.”

Adela raised her middle finger too as she picked up a cookie. A crispy, oven-baked cookie. It was as big as a palm with nuts embedded inside, making it incredibly delicious.

“Ayla. Try this. The chef made it specially, knowing you were coming.”

While Ayla accepted the pastry Adela offered, Jerry tilted his head.

“But isn’t that kind of a garbage thought?”

“What is?”

“The idea that money can do everything seems a bit…”

“Materialistic?”

“Exactly.”

It was an unexpected statement from someone who handles money.

Not everyone who works at the Treasury Department directly deals with money, but it wasn’t the attitude you’d expect from someone who graduated top of his class from a prestigious university’s economics department.

I clicked my tongue at my brother, who was indirectly calling his sibling materialistic.

“How did my brother become such a materialist? Where did you learn that from?”

“Work.”

“……”

When I said it was a habit learned from the intelligence agency, Jerry shut his mouth. Adela also paused. They all seemed to have something that made them feel a bit guilty.

Yum. The ice cream is delicious. I checked the flavor and saw it was labeled “Siren Breast Milk Flavor” in Frangian.

Wondering what kind of flavor that could possibly be, I frowned, and Jerry, who had finished his sandwich, awkwardly changed the subject.

“Well. Yes. It’s nice to have everyone together after so long. Have Fred and Ayla been doing well?”

Ayla, who was cutting into a walnut pie, nodded.

“Ayla, you said you work at a trading company, right? Was it Pax?”

“…Yes. It’s Pax.”

Surprised that the troublesome youngest had finally settled down, Jerry and Adela expressed admiration that seemed beyond their years.

My brother and sister began questioning Ayla, who sat between them.

“What kind of work do you do there?”

“Is anything difficult?”

“Are you living alone? Did you find a place?”

“Which area do you work in?”

“How much do you make?”

The last question was mine.

I was planning to hear how much she earned and then consider how much to extract monthly, but my brother and sister didn’t seem to appreciate that.

“Ow.”

I rubbed my knee after being kicked by my sister sitting across from me, pretending it hurt.

While I was eating ice cream with a spoon and rubbing my knee, Ayla, sandwiched between my brother and sister, began spouting nonsense.

“…I’m in overseas sales. Since it’s my first job, nothing’s particularly difficult, and I think I’ll stay at the townhouse in the capital for now.”

Ayla was an overseas sales representative for a trading company. She said she was still in her probationary period and learning the job.

Hearing “overseas sales representative for a trading company” brought back memories. That was the identity I used when I was dispatched to Japan. I probably used that identity for work related to Chongryon.

Jerry praised Ayla as if he was proud of her, smiling meaninglessly.

“Right. It might be hard and difficult to adapt at first, but it’ll get better as you go along.”

Adela, who had been resting her chin on her hand and looking bored, tilted her head.

“But Ayla, didn’t you major in magic? I don’t remember seeing you take any economics, business, or trade-related courses.”

“They hired me because I’m good with foreign languages.”

“You? Ah, that’s right. You’ve been good with languages since you were young.”

Adela exclaimed as if she agreed.

Like how even a dung beetle has its own talent for rolling, Ayla, who had been a complete NEET, had her own skills. She was good at magic and studies.

Since her Academy days, Ayla’s grades had always been in the top ranks, and surprisingly, her foreign language skills were exceptional. That was thanks to our mother. There was a distant relative from the Qiyen Empire among our maternal relatives.

Of course, the relationship was so distant that our maternal family and that house were practically strangers.

If our maternal family had still maintained a close relationship with that house, I would have failed the background check before even entering the Military Intelligence Service.

“You’ve always been really good at Qiyenese since you were young. Even the Academy teachers suggested you should go to a foreign language university or at least take it as an elective if you weren’t interested in magic.”

“Yes.”

“Is the headquarters in the capital? Have you been staying outside all this time?”

“That’s right?”

“Where were you staying?”

“My friend has an apartment in the capital… I was staying with them.”

Ayla trailed off. Dissatisfied with the vague answer, Adela narrowed her eyes and rubbed her chin.

“Hey, Ayla.”

“What is it, sis?”

“Be honest. Is that friend someone you met at a protest?”

Protest.

That word instantly dampened the atmosphere in the dining room. Jerry, who had been spreading jam on a golden-brown toast he’d brought with his sandwich, stopped his knife and glanced at me.

I met my brother’s eyes once and gave a small nod instead of saying it was okay.

“Sis. Don’t bring that up.”

“Why?”

Adela looked at me as if asking what was wrong. Her reaction was subtly sharp.

Ayla had participated in student movements during her college days.

She didn’t suddenly read Marx’s Das Kapital and The Communist Manifesto and get high on calling for the overthrow of capitalism and the abolition of class society. She just participated in left-wing movements related to the abolition of the status system and the promotion of human rights.

The reason such activities were labeled with the rather red-flavored term “left-wing” was purely because Abas was a constitutional monarchy that legally recognized the status system.

Therefore, in Abas, democrats, republicans, socialists, social democrats, communists, and all groups with political leanings other than royalists are classified as progressive. For reference, the ruling party currently in power is conservative.

Fortunately, the Abas government officially does not discriminate based on political orientation.

The problem was that Ayla came from a noble family.

“Her student activism is all in the past, so why do you keep bringing it up?”

“I’m worried she might get into trouble again. What if she gets caught at a protest and arrested by the police like last time? Are you going to call and bail her out again?”

“……”

Once, just once, Ayla had participated in a protest and was arrested by the police.

At that time, I was a new recruit who had just joined the Military Intelligence Service and was undergoing overseas training after being assigned to practical duties.

Then one day, I received a call to come to the embassy immediately, and I heard from Leoniro, who was the chief at the time, that my sister had been detained during a protest.

Fortunately, there was no problem.

I found an old business card and called Clebins, who was working in the counterintelligence department, and with his help, Ayla was released within half a day without any interrogation.

Of course, the family atmosphere was tense for a while afterward, but since college students getting arrested at protests was relatively common at the time, I remember it being glossed over.

It’s fortunate that Abas is a constitutional monarchy. If it had been an absolute monarchy like Saudi Arabia, Jordan, or Thailand, she might have been taken to prison without a trace.

I turned my gaze away and smacked my lips. I could use a cigarette.

“Even you, sis, making a big deal out of one mistake… By the way, where’s Mother?”

“She’s inspecting the mansion. She’s looking around with the butler and head maid.”

Jerry added that Father would be leaving tomorrow morning.

My brother, who had been nibbling on toast, quickly changed the subject to break the frozen atmosphere.

“Ah, right. Tell us about yourself.”

“About me?”

“Yes.”

I nodded lightly.

The Military Intelligence Service was by no means a comfortable or pleasant workplace, even as a figure of speech, but it was a decent company to work for in its own way.

Although I was pushed around during my commissioned officer days, that’s no longer the case. In the intelligence service, those with field-grade officer rank are treated as team leaders or middle managers.

Moreover, I had a status recognized by the Church.

With Camilla, Lucia, and Francesca as colleagues, who would dare to look down on me?

So these days, work life was pretty good.

My salary had increased, my first embassy assignment seemed to suit me, and the overseas dispatch after a long time was quite manageable.

I slowly shared a filtered version of my story.

“I’ve been busy with embassy work, but after some time, I’ve adapted and it’s fine now.”

“Really?”

Jerry, who had been quietly listening, asked a question. Of course, since he knew I was an intelligence officer, he didn’t ask what kind of work I was doing.

“You don’t have any difficulties? Is the food to your liking while you’re working abroad?”

“No problems. If there’s a downside, it’s that there’s so much work I can’t get proper sleep and I’m always busy…”

“Then, are there any people you work with who you get along with or who share your mindset?”

It was a question about whether I was seeing anyone.

My brother Jerry has always had a habit of asking vague, roundabout questions about romantic relationships.

I shook my head and said firmly.

“No.”

“Really?”

Adela grinned.

“Well, if you say so, there’s no problem, but…”

“What weird thing are you going to say now?”

“There’s talk about you among the diplomats at the embassy? It’s quite something.”

Rumors?

I tilted my head for a moment, wondering what she meant. I wondered if I had done something wrong to cause rumors.

But Adela began to tell a story completely different from what I had expected.

“There’s a rumor spreading that you’re hanging around with women.”

“What? That I’m bringing someone around? I’m not that kind of person. I know perfectly well that getting involved with an employee would turn the embassy upside down. That’s serious talk.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Adela glanced at Jerry and Ayla, then whispered softly in my ear.

“I heard you’re in that kind of relationship with the Hero? They say you go into her room in the early evening and come out in the middle of the night.”

Uh.

“And there’s talk among international reporters that you’re very close with the Saint and the administrative officer from the Secretariat. Especially the Saint. Even if you’re colleagues, that’s too much. What kind of diplomat skips events to go volunteering every day?”

Shit.

“……”

“What on earth are you doing out there?”