Ch.19Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

“….”

My mind is troubled.

-‘Major. It seems your prediction is likely correct.’

I can’t tell if this is truly a world inside a game or reality.

-‘It’s only circumstantial evidence, but I believe the 2nd Bureau agents have been purged. Betrayal is treated the same as treason, so if the charges were certain, they might have been executed without trial. Perhaps there were other reasons, but what do we know?’

“….”

The Colonel let out a deep sigh.

-‘Frederick. Don’t dig too deeply into this matter.’

“…I think that’s best.”

-‘We have no reason to get involved in the Imperial Guard’s internal affairs. Just monitor the situation and resume official duties at an appropriate time.’

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

The country—no, the entire continent—had fallen into chaos.

The bomb attack and gunfight in the middle of the Church district had left numerous officials and citizens trembling with anxiety. As fear of terrorism spread across a continent already on the brink of war, hell broke loose.

“…The Empire has declared martial law.”

“Motherfucker.”

Jake spat out a curse. Even for a man in his twenties just starting his career, the situation was impossible not to curse at.

Pippin began his report with a phone pressed against his neck.

“They’re considering mobilizing reserves back home. The entire military is on high alert due to Imperial troop movements.”

Everything’s gone to shit.

I turned on the news to see how the world was unfolding. An announcer was reading a script with urgency in her voice.

‘Martial law has been implemented throughout the Kien Empire. The martial law command has issued a statement saying this was an unavoidable decision for national stability, a measure to prevent disorder and riots by subversive elements….’

Footage showed a gray-haired general reading from a script.

Considering that the Empire declared martial law after a gunfight at the Church, they’re probably using this incident to tighten internal control and put an end to the border skirmishes.

“What’s the Inquisition saying? No official statement yet?”

“They’re only giving textbook responses. Seems they don’t have the luxury to issue a formal statement right now.”

I changed channels and saw the Inquisition’s press room.

The chaotic questions from reporters and the press secretary’s desperate responses were striking.

‘Who was involved in the gunfight?!’

‘Is this another terrorist attack? Please answer!’

‘Please, one at a time…’

‘According to witnesses, a significant number of shell casings were found! Were there casualties?’

‘Please, just calm down for a moment…!’

‘How many people died?! Were there civilian casualties?!’

‘Are we looking at a power struggle between organizations in the slums? Just give us something!’

Even a zoo would be quieter than this.

I changed the channel again, and this time an interview was playing.

‘I believe this incident is connected to terrorism. The Inquisition, which is responsible for security in the Church district, has failed to provide clear answers even two days later. The incompetence of the Inquisition is being exposed for all to see!’

According to the caption, he was a bishop.

He looked familiar, but not particularly memorable.

The bishop’s face reddened, and his calm tone gradually became more aggressive. The intensity of the conversation was skyrocketing like Bitcoin.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that guy?”

“Who knows? Probably just an attention-seeker who found an opportunity to make noise.”

Pippin gave a curt reply as he put down the phone and collapsed into a chair.

“Just got a report from the surveillance team. Communications to the Imperial Embassy exploded right after the gunfight, then disappeared completely.”

“Radio silence.”

Jake jumped in to offer his analysis.

“They’re probably silent because they’re treating the wounded and regrouping. With martial law declared in the Empire, the lack of communication suggests their superiors have ordered them to cease activities and go dark.”

“I wonder if that counterintelligence guy is grabbing some other agent by the collar and throwing punches right now?”

“That’s entirely possible given the circumstances. Who wouldn’t lose their mind when their own people are getting shot?”

“Are we in contact with the Imperial Embassy now?”

“No. Even when the ambassador calls directly, they don’t answer. Seems they’ve cut off external communications due to the emergency.”

“What a mess they’ve made. That’s what happens when you start shooting in someone else’s country.”

“Could it be an internal power struggle?”

I shook my head at Jake’s suggestion.

No matter how bitter the rivalry, there’s no reason for people from the same agency to shoot at each other.

If the 1st and 2nd Bureaus were competing for the next leadership position, they would have fought with results, not by killing each other.

It’s more reasonable to assume they were purged for some reason.

But beyond all that, something felt off from the beginning.

I understand the counterintelligence unit, but I don’t know why the intelligence bureau came overseas, and it’s suspicious that a counterintelligence agent provided information about terrorism.

I racked my brain but couldn’t find a clear answer.

It felt like my head was filled with a hazy fog.

So I let out a hollow laugh and made a frivolous comment.

“…Maybe they were fighting over the lunch menu.”

Pippin and Jake looked at me like I was garbage.

Seems my joke wasn’t funny. These guys have no sense of humor.

Just then, a light began flashing on the pager sitting on the corner of my desk.

Someone was looking for me.

I left the conference room, leaving behind Pippin who was busy on the phone and Jake who was reviewing reports.

The corridor was filled with embassy staff running around with armfuls of documents as if their feet were on fire.

“Excuse me. Just passing through.”

“Major!”

“Yes?”

I turned my head toward the urgent voice and saw Camilla Rowell rushing toward me.

“A-are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. By the way, it seems our schedule will be canceled for the time being. Is that okay with you?”

“What? Of course it’s fine with me. But what about you, Major…?”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’m just someone who follows orders.”

Camilla Rowell’s expression turned gloomy. She seemed to be struggling emotionally. According to the psychological report, she had experienced significant mental trauma. She had seemed to brighten up while attending recent events, but now her mood appeared to have sunk again.

Certainly, whether here or on Earth, bomb attacks and urban gunfights are major incidents worthy of front-page news. With such events happening one after another, how could anyone be at ease?

I smiled slightly and patted her shoulder.

“Your safety is the top priority, so don’t worry too much.”

“…”

“Go and get some rest. I need to be going now.”

I walked away, leaving her standing there.

She probably needed time to think alone, so leaving her be was the best option right now.

“Major.”

As I was walking away, her voice echoed in my ears.

When I turned around, Camilla Rowell was standing in the middle of the busy corridor with a faint smile.

“What is it?”

“…Take care of yourself.”

She left after those brief words.

Bewildered by her unexpected comment, I stared at the path she had taken and muttered:

“…What was that about?”

Of course, there was no answer.

*

A café near the embassy.

Despite its worn exterior, the interior was filled with elegant, classic decor.

Soft lighting and fragrant candles created a comfortable atmosphere, and the rich aroma of coffee added the perfect finishing touch to its charm.

“It’s been a while.”

However, given the nature of this meeting, there was no opportunity to relax and enjoy the coffee.

“It’s been a while, Director Bernard.”

I was sitting across from Bernard, the Security Director of the Inquisition—the man who had tested me in collusion with Pedro last time.

Gone was the servile, flattering demeanor; only a cold, expressionless man remained.

It suddenly struck me that this person was indeed a high-ranking official in a counterintelligence agency.

He tilted his impassive face and smiled slightly.

“You look radiant.”

It was an empty compliment. He probably meant I looked tired, just in a roundabout way.

From my personal research, I knew that the Security Bureau under the Inquisition was responsible for counterintelligence investigations.

In other words, this man was from internal security.

Essentially, he’s my natural enemy.

Since I wasn’t in the mood to laugh and chat with such a person, I immediately got to the point.

“Thank you, Director. Why did you want to see me?”

“I wanted to inform you about matters concerning the Hero’s security.”

“Go ahead.”

“The Inquisition understands that the recent terrorist attack and this gunfight pose a significant threat to the Hero’s safety. Therefore, we have doubled the security personnel assigned to the Hero.”

The security personnel provided by the Inquisition consisted of holy knights, inquisitors, and dedicated healing priests.

To double that number…

“It must be difficult to provide so many personnel at once.”

This must have been ordered directly by the Pope or decided by the cardinals in council.

“Personnel isn’t an issue. Human lives are more important, wouldn’t you agree?”

“…Human lives are important.”

While this seemed like a perfectly reasonable statement on the surface, I recalled the conversation between Raphael and Raul, both former Inquisition chiefs, and couldn’t be entirely pleased.

“I appreciate the offer.”

“Good. I’m glad we can communicate without obstacles.”

“It seems you have other business as well?”

“Yes.”

Director Bernard took a brown envelope from his briefcase and handed it to me.

I looked down at it and asked:

“…What is this?”

“Internal documents. Since you have security clearance, Major, you needn’t worry about being deported for espionage.”

Director Bernard made an unfunny joke and smirked.

Internal documents, huh. That’s what I had said to him before.

“By the way, what do you mean by security clearance?”

“Chief Pedro personally asked me to deliver these documents to you. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Chief Pedro is quite favorably disposed toward you.”

Favor.

Not a particularly welcome favor.

As a spy, receiving favor from the head of a counterintelligence agency wasn’t entirely a good thing. I muttered conventional thanks and turned the envelope over to empty its contents.

“Photos.”

I picked up one photo and waved it around.

“How did this poor fellow end up with an air hole in the back of his head?”

It was a photo of a corpse.

*

A photo of a well-dressed man in a suit smiling brightly was placed before me.

“Yuri. 34 years old. A businessman from the Latuan Principality within the Kien Empire. He had been running a publishing company in the Church district for several years.”

Another photo was placed before me.

It showed him mingling with men in suits under a banner.

“For a man in the publishing business, he showed great interest in trade. He was particularly interested in minerals like zinc, coal, and steel.”

“The Church’s main exports.”

“Yes.”

“I’m asking out of curiosity, so please don’t misunderstand. Are those minerals mined by heretics and prisoners through forced labor?”

“Let’s just say it’s a form of punishment.”

His brazen answer implied it wasn’t forced labor.

These bastards are no different from the reds up north. Religious people legally operating what amounts to labor camps. No wonder the world is in such a state.

“So why was this upstanding businessman with an interest in trade shot? Did he take out a loan from a loan shark?”

“It was more of an execution than an assassination.”

Director Bernard pushed forward several photos.

They showed the back of the head with the hole I’d seen earlier, and hands and feet bound with wire.

I smiled wryly and tapped the photos.

“Looks like he messed with someone important’s woman.”

This was a sight commonly seen everywhere.

This method was typically used for the hasty execution of political prisoners or dissidents.

“I don’t think that’s the case.”

Director Bernard placed a document on the table.

It was a resume with a large security mark stamped on it.

“…”

“Yuri was an operative of the Imperial Guard’s 2nd Bureau. A spy operating within the Church district. He was more of a white than a black agent, quite active. The Security Bureau had been keeping an eye on him, but recently he disappeared and was found executed in a sewer.”

Imperial Guard 2nd Bureau. The department specializing in foreign operations.

A nearly white agent. And such a person was shot in the back of the head.

With a strange sense of déjà vu, I examined the resume.

“When did he go missing?”

“A week after the bomb attack.”

Bomb attack.

A 2nd Bureau agent went missing right after a bomb attack.

“What was his usual work?”

“Ordinary. Lobbying, information gathering. Occasionally investigating international criminal organizations.”

“From the way you speak, it sounds like you had some acquaintance with him.”

“The Security Bureau also handles international crime investigations.”

He’s saying the man was an informant.

Rather than a one-way information transfer, they probably had a mutually beneficial relationship. There’s no reason to strictly monitor an agent whose goal is transnational intelligence activities like international crime investigations.

International crime investigations are often too much for a single agency to handle, so information exchange like this is common.

It’s standard practice for multiple intelligence agencies to cooperate in dismantling organizations involved in drug crimes, illegal arms deals, and human trafficking.

“So was he killed while investigating criminal organizations?”

“We don’t know. Given the timing, we can only speculate that he had some connection to the organization behind the bomb attack.”

I stared at the photos he had given me for a long time.

I had much to say and ask, but in the end, I only voiced a fundamental question.

“…Why are you showing me this?”

“I told you, didn’t I? The Chief thinks highly of you.”

“That’s excessive favor.”

“We plan to provide additional materials as well, so please don’t decline.”

I glared at Bernard’s stoic face, then tapped the table with my fingernails as I fell into contemplation.

Imperial Guard 2nd Bureau undercover agent.

Execution-style killing.

International criminal organization investigation.

Lobbyist.

Bomb attack.

The work of intelligence agents isn’t always peaceful, so such unfortunate incidents do occur.

Whether white or black, once you step into the world of espionage, absolute safety is never guaranteed.

That’s why intelligence agents put considerable effort into security. If information leaks, not only they but their colleagues could die.

Of course, despite such efforts, agents are often exposed, deported, or imprisoned. Intelligence operations are human endeavors after all, and can’t be perfect.

And there’s no favor in this world without a price.

In that sense,

“…Sigh.”

There must be a reason why the Inquisition suddenly approached me with this information.

“What do you want me to do?”

“It’s simple. Find the people who planted the bomb.”

I thought as much.

The Inquisition is currently in a tight spot. They failed to prevent the bomb attack resulting in casualties, and a gunfight broke out in the Church district.

Normally, politicians would be foaming at the mouth trying to oust the person in charge, but surprisingly, Pedro seemed to be holding his position firmly.

This means his accumulated achievements must be significant enough to offset his failures.

It also implies he has consolidated his control over the Inquisition to the point where no dissent emerges.

With such a monstrous old man placing his bet, I can’t overturn the table.

“…I’ll try my best.”

Deal.

*

-‘So what did you decide?’

“I decided to accept. It’s a terrorism investigation, and it seems inappropriate for us to pursue it alone.”

-‘Hmm… That’s fine. It’s fine, but hearing about an Imperial operative being executed makes me a bit uneasy.’

“Why the sudden concern?”

-‘It’s not that I don’t trust you all, but I’m worried nonetheless.’

I understand the Colonel’s feelings.

Tracking down people who brazenly set off bombs and kill agents is bound to be challenging.

With the cost of training a capable agent reaching into the millions in Earth terms, an agent’s death represents not just a tragedy but a national loss.

“But isn’t this the kind of authority you granted me?”

-‘I opposed it.’

“What?”

-‘I know how dangerous black operations are. That’s why I opposed it.’

This was news to me.

But not incomprehensible.

Colonel Clevins was a counterintelligence officer who had neutralized numerous spies, undoubtedly including some caught during black operations.

That’s probably why he’s concerned.

“You worry a lot.”

-‘…Do I?’

He was strangely compassionate.

Contrary to the ominous rumors surrounding Colonel Clevins, it’s generally accepted that he treated spies humanely. I’ve personally heard counterintelligence personnel criticizing the Colonel for this.

A man who catches spies yet treats them humanely.

Yet he strictly separates public duty from personal feelings, an elite who has imprisoned numerous spies.

A man who understands but doesn’t empathize.

Even to me, Colonel Clevins was a contradictory figure.

It’s hard to believe that such a person would routinely send assassins in the game.

“Anyway, I’ll conduct the terrorism investigation jointly. There will be some difficulties since it’s not an official operation, but we’ll have to accept that.”

-‘Do that. I’ll approve most of what you do from now on, so just report the beginning and progress. I’ll be going now.’

“Rest well.”

I put the darkened communication device into my coat’s inner pocket.

I walked slowly along the deserted avenue, taking in the world around me.

The darkened shopping district and the streets devoid of people evoked the death of a city.

Yet small lights filtering through curtains illuminated the darkened city like faint candles.

Like tiny flames burning with life, the lights of the dying city were gradually breaking down the edge of the sky, driving away the darkness.

It was beautiful.

-Ding!

“…What’s this?”

The number on the communication device belonged to the work phone of an embassy undercover agent.

The communication devices issued by the intelligence service had secure lines installed by default, so we occasionally exchanged numbers to discuss work-related matters from a distance.

“Hello?”

-‘Major. Please return to the embassy immediately.’

“I’m right in front of the embassy now. Don’t tell me something else has happened?”

-‘Our agents have captured a spy.’