Ch.317Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

Tension, anxiety, and stress-heightened emotions race like a truck without brakes. The man who had been running a modest café just hours ago suddenly recalled a quote he’d heard from a regular customer who loved reading.

Bang! Clatter! Rattle! The drawer cabinet makes a loud noise.

Glass cups tumble around the wide-open cupboard and sink. The protruding drawers and clothes strewn across the floor seem to reflect the man’s complicated and anxious state of mind.

The man wandered through the interior that looked as if a typhoon had swept through. Trampling his cherished clothes with mud-stained shoes, he resembled a burglar, though in reality, he was the rightful owner who had moved in through a legitimate contract.

How a modest shopkeeper ended up in such a state, no one could tell.

All that’s known is that the book-loving regular had handed over a large sum of money, and he, wanting to escape his debt-ridden life, had accepted it without question.

Now reduced to a fugitive, the man was rummaging through the house, grabbing anything of value like someone fleeing from creditors.

Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

-Ding dong!

At the sudden sound of the doorbell, the man’s hands froze as he was gathering the hidden payment.

His mind, taut with tension and anxiety, feeling as if his nerves might snap at any moment, suddenly became quiet as if doused with cold water.

The man, who had been ruthlessly searching through the house, wiped his face covered in cold sweat and pressed his frightened eyes against the peephole.

Beyond the peephole stood two police officers at the door.

The officer who lightly knocked on the door spoke.

“Police. Mr. Bonasera.”

At that single syllable word “police,” the man called Bonasera felt his heart sink. He trembled like a criminal who had received a death sentence.

“We’re here about a report that came in today. You received a call earlier, right?”

“……”

The police officer said something, but Bonasera heard nothing. No, he couldn’t hear.

He could have surrendered to the police right then. He could have opened the door, served coffee to create a pleasant atmosphere, and placated the officers with lies to clear his charges, or perhaps even sent them away, but Bonasera did none of that.

When he came to his senses, he was already squeezing his body through the narrow bathroom window. Stepping on the outdoor unit that barely had room for two feet, he climbed up the metal ladder designed for fire escapes.

Though flustered by the sudden appearance of the police, his legs were already moving regardless of his will. Climbing the ladder, slinging the loose bag containing cash over his shoulder, and awkwardly crossing the roof, Bonasera suddenly remembered.

Yes, this escape method was also taught by that bookworm regular.

“……”

Half in a daze, he let his legs lead him to a secluded alley near the villa. As he blankly surveyed the meeting place, Bonasera spotted a parked sedan.

Around the car were two men. They stood with cigarettes between their lips, wearing somewhat dubious expressions.

Moving his reluctant feet toward the men, Bonasera uttered the promised word in a trembling voice.

“Hey, poppy….”

“……”

The gazes of the two smoking men turned to Bonasera. After staring at him blankly, one of them scanned him up and down, then opened the passenger door and said:

“Get in.”

That seemed to be the signal. The man who had extinguished his cigarette with his shoe got into the driver’s seat, and the one who had invited him sat directly behind the passenger seat.

The men said nothing, but it felt like a threat that they would leave without him if he didn’t get in.

Feeling uneasy at the cold reception, Bonasera quickly looked around to ensure no one was watching, then hurriedly climbed into the passenger seat. He stared directly at the man in the driver’s seat.

But the driver neither started the car nor turned on the ignition.

“Seatbelt.”

“Ah….”

Only then did Bonasera realize he hadn’t fastened his seatbelt. With trembling hands, he pulled at the seatbelt to secure it, and after a struggle with repeated amateur mistakes, he finally managed to fasten it and leaned his head back against the seat with a sigh of relief.

That’s when it happened.

“Kuhek…!”

The sound like a zipper being pulled down came from the back seat.

The intelligence officer, who had already placed a thin, sturdy cord around Bonasera’s neck, pushed the seat with his foot and strangled him. With bulging eyes, Bonasera banged on the window and kicked at the glove compartment, but within 30 seconds, he lost consciousness and collapsed.

“……”

“…Is it done?”

“Yeah, he’s dead.”

At his colleague’s words from the driver’s seat, the intelligence officer finally released his grip on the cord.

He went through a simple verification procedure to confirm the informant’s death. What would happen next was predictable.

“Let’s make it look like he was killed by the mafia. The evidence is in the passenger seat.”

“Let’s pull this guy out first.”

After retrieving the rope, the intelligence officer dragged Bonasera’s body out of the passenger seat.

While he hid several pieces of forged evidence at the scene, his colleague took out a secure terminal and informed the company that the clean-up was complete.

“Let’s go.”

The intelligence officer sat in the very seat where Bonasera had been. After sending the message, the officer started the car and calmly left the scene.

In the alley where the cold dawn air had settled.

When the police arrived after receiving a report from a resident at daybreak, all that remained at the scene was the corpse of the café owner.

*

When I forcibly lifted my eyelids that refused to open, I saw a room with a design I had never seen before.

“…An unfamiliar ceiling.”

The room was built with a quite peculiar structure.

One of its notable features was that it was so spacious it could be mistaken for a living room rather than a bedroom. Another was the vanity table in the passage leading to the attached bathroom where one could sit and apply makeup.

The bedding made of red silk that seemed fit for royalty and the bed crafted from processed black hardwood were also remarkable. From the bed to the furniture, decorations, and interior filling the room, they were clearly not products meant for a businessman staying for just a few days.

As I sat dazed on the bed looking around the room, memories from the previous night suddenly flooded in like a tidal wave. At the same time, I realized where I was.

After receiving a call from Gabi Schneider, I went to meet her with Francesca. A modest café located in a secluded alley. It was a very small establishment with an outdoor terrace.

There, I got caught up in a military intelligence operation. Leoni, the operation commander, ordered the field team to kidnap both the target, Gabi Schneider, and me. The field team took me to an unknown location, changing vehicles and boats along the way.

There, I met Leoni, and then returned to the hotel, again changing boats and vehicles. And at dawn, I encountered Francesca who had been waiting in front of the hotel.

My memories after that were hazy.

I probably passed through the empty front desk, avoiding the eyes of other guests as I went up to my room. Francesca instructed me to pack all my belongings, and when I followed her down to the back entrance with my luggage, I boarded an unfamiliar vehicle.

Yes, I came here in that car.

“……”

Rising from the bed with my exhausted body, I went outside the room. As soon as I opened the door, I saw a vast terrace. The salty smell of the sea wafted in on the breeze, and white foam crashed against the cliff, being swept back to the sea with the waves.

A picturesque house with a red roof built on a coastal cliff.

Standing with my hands on the terrace railing, I let out a deep sigh.

“Haah….”

A villa situated on a coastal cliff in southern Galbria. This place, surrounded by nothing but trees and fields, was Francesca’s villa.

*

Not long after waking up, I had a private meeting with the owner of the villa.

“You’re awake.”

“Francesca.”

As if to prove this was her residence, Francesca’s attire was quite casual.

The clothes she wore, which seemed like something a noble lady might wear in her chambers, were made of Eastern silk, incredibly thin and flowing. The silk was so sheer that one might glimpse the skin beneath if nothing was worn underneath, and it fluttered as if it might fly away with her every movement.

Fortunately, Francesca wore a robe over her clothes. They say even a bankrupt rich person can live for three generations. Despite her fallen status, she still maintained the dignity of nobility.

Pulling her collar tight against the chilly breeze, she came out to the terrace and spoke to me.

“I had to leave you be since you wouldn’t wake up when I tried. Did you sleep well?”

“Thanks to you.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“More or less okay…”

In truth, my physical condition had been wrecked for a while. Though I hadn’t been tortured, I was mentally exhausted and had no strength in my body from not eating or drinking properly. A good night’s sleep wouldn’t immediately restore my deteriorated condition.

Still, grateful for being able to sleep soundly for once, I thanked the host who had provided me with the bedroom.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Francesca responded with a rather composed expression. However, in her gaze as she looked at me, I caught a glimpse of something peculiar passing by.

So I casually threw out a question.

“Is there something you want to say?”

“……”

A crack appeared in Francesca’s dignified expression. She closed her mouth as if she had missed the right timing to speak. After staring silently into space for a while, as if pondering how to begin, she finally broke the silence.

“Sir Knight.”

“Yes?”

“About what happened last night.”

Francesca turned her head and began to stare at me intently.

“Miss Schneider disappeared, you disappeared. The café owner suddenly fled and didn’t show up.”

“……”

“It seems something I don’t know about has happened, but perhaps, would you be willing to tell me about it now?”

It was an easy question to answer. So I blurted out without much thought.

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

As the wind carrying the scent of the sea blew gently, and warm sunlight tickled the tip of my nose.

Francesca just looked at me with a seemingly calm expression, without saying a word.

Her silent lips opened when a strong gust of wind, like a mischievous spirit, caught her luscious hair and lifted it high into the sky.

“For the time being, don’t do anything and rest. If you have something to talk about, come to the workshop at the eastern end of the second floor.”

“……”

“Well then, I’ll be going.”

Left alone on the terrace after the host had departed, I silently gazed at the sea.

The sea, turning over its dark blue scales, was as beautiful as if it had been lifted straight from a classical novel. The sky, like fine threads unraveled, was clear and blue.

Under the warm sunshine, I looked up at the high sun.

The red-hot sun was incredibly hot.

Hot enough to kill a person.

*

Despite requests from both Francesca and Leoni to do nothing, unfortunately, their words had no effect on me, a hipster among hipsters.

After a good night’s sleep, I put on clean clothes that had been stuffed in my bag and headed to the Abas Kingdom Consulate in Galbria. Since Galbria itself was a logistics hub with a large port, various diplomatic missions from all countries could be found once you entered the city center.

Upon arriving at the consulate, I first reported to the company.

-‘…You changed your accommodation?’

“Yes, that’s right.”

-‘I appreciate you telling me right away, but this is a bit…’

From the secure communication room, Clebins spoke in a surprised voice over the secure line.

-‘Not a bit, it’s very surprising. Why did you suddenly change your accommodation?’

The reason was simple.

“Well, if I don’t report to the company, wouldn’t Leoni, who pushed through the operation without a word, have her staff throw me into a van again?”

-‘…Ah.’

A small sigh came from over the secure line. Sighing as if entangled in a visibly troublesome matter, Clebins reluctantly opened his mouth.

-‘…Didn’t you go straight to the embassy after receiving my call?’

“I was going to. The embassy or anywhere else.”

As expected, the reason Clebins had opened a secure line and called me directly just before the kidnapping operation began yesterday was to extract me from the scene.

I was surprised when I got a straightforward answer to my probing question. Clebins, as if he had nothing left to hide, began to reveal the truth about the incident.

-‘I knew in advance that an operation would be conducted in Fatalia. Due to the committee’s instructions to maintain security, I didn’t tell you separately, but… damn. Why did you go there in the first place? It’s hundreds of kilometers away from your vacation spot.’

I answered honestly.

“Gabi Schneider called my informant, crying and pleading. She said her boyfriend, Jean Marbo, had suddenly disappeared and asked if we could help find him.”

-‘Your informant, you mean that alchemist?’

“Yes.”

-‘Does Leoni know too?’

“She was there with me at the scene.”

-‘So she knew before I did.’

Anyway, Leoni knew, and the intelligence officers involved in the kidnapping operation had figured it out too. Since Clebins also knew that Francesca was an informant, I didn’t think it would be a problem to mention this.

I was able to hear the truth about the incident from Clebins. Why they carried out the kidnapping operation, why it was in Fatalia specifically, and why Gabi Schneider was the target.

And the answer I received was beyond my imagination.

“…Gabi Schneider is a terrorist?”

-‘To be precise, she’s one of the prime suspects.’

Gabi Schneider, who was kidnapped and tortured by military intelligence, was surprisingly a terrorist.

I couldn’t understand how that crying, sniveling human could be a terrorist on par with ISIS or the Taliban, but Clebins wasn’t the type to joke about such things.

-‘I can’t tell you much over communication, but that woman is one of the terrorists who has captured and killed several people. She’s still being treated as a suspect since the charges haven’t been confirmed yet.’

“…Where is her area of operation?”

-‘The Moritani continent.’

Moritani again. After dealing with the worst parts of Africa and the Middle East, which are considered cesspools even by intelligence agencies, now I’m entangled with this local cesspool too.

Wait a minute.

If Gabi Schneider is a terrorist, then what about the missing Jean Marbo and the wizards on the list?

“Then is that list possibly…”

-‘I think what you’re thinking is roughly correct.’

“……”

Clebins avoided giving a specific answer, but that was already sufficient. The list of Matap Secretariat employees that Leoni had ordered to investigate was a list of suspected terrorists operating on the Moritani continent.

They say “suspects,” but if they went as far as kidnapping, it means they must have found some evidence. No wonder the staff beat Gabi Schneider like a dog.

-‘We’ll talk in detail after your vacation ends. I’ll arrange a meeting.’

“Yes.”

I achieved my primary goal and gained some information, but my harvest didn’t end there.

As I was leaving the building after finishing my business, an intelligence officer stationed at the consulate who had come to the secure communication room carefully called me over and delivered unexpected news.

“A bonus?”

“Yes. The company has paid a bonus.”

The news was that military intelligence had paid a bonus. I was surprised since it wasn’t the season for bonuses, but it suddenly occurred to me that this might not be a bonus but compensation.

Typically, intelligence agencies offer some form of compensation when an intelligence officer suffers harm, whether from an accident or a complicated situation. If you’ve been in prison for a few years after being caught by a counterintelligence agency, they send you to a better position; if you’ve had a hard time overseas, they send you on vacation to an allied country. If you’re injured, they even introduce you to hospitals with treatment facilities and provide ample financial support for medical expenses. I remember receiving such compensation when I was taken to a military hospital after experiencing a terrorist attack at a department store.

Sure enough, the intelligence officer concluded his answer with just one sentence without further explanation.

“It’s a bonus paid by the director. It has been deposited into a foreign bank account in Fatalia, so please withdraw it as soon as possible. And take this too.”

“What is this…?”

“It’s a potion.”

The intelligence officer handed me a military-grade potion. It was a high-performance potion that the Abas pharmaceutical company supplies to the military.

Although it doesn’t work on diseases and can’t neutralize the neurotoxin developed by intelligence agencies that even nullifies clerical healing.

It’s a potion on par with miraculous elixirs that instantly heals wounds when applied to gunshot wounds and recovers most external and internal injuries. I consumed the potion immediately upon receiving it.

“Ugh….”

A bitter taste lingered throughout my mouth as if I had drunk bitter herbal medicine, but contrary to my shattered taste buds, my body’s wounds healed rapidly. The intelligence officer said there were more if needed, but I declined since frequently consuming potions isn’t good for the body.

After leaving the consulate, I headed to the bank to find the account the company had created for me.

Honestly, whether it was compensation or whatever, I felt a bit off about them trying to settle that ordeal with money.

But that feeling disappeared when I saw the amount in the account.

“…What is this.”

The compensation paid under the name of a bonus was much more than I had expected. An amount several, no, dozens of times my first salary after being promoted to major had been deposited into the account over three years.

Creating an account over three years must have cost a considerable amount in paperwork. I was dumbfounded that they used an account they couldn’t use again just to pay compensation once.

After roughly calculating the amount displayed on the screen, I confirmed that a sum equivalent to about five years’ salary as a major had been deposited as compensation.

While I wasn’t completely over my frustration, this was enough to make me willing to continue working. Moreover, it was untaxed money, completely unknown to the tax office.

My momentary consideration of throwing my resignation letter in Leoni’s face was briefly overshadowed by the enormous amount, but as the euphoria gradually faded, practical difficulties began to emerge belatedly.

“…How do I take this with me?”

It’s a full five years’ salary.

Carrying that much cash around would be insane. Since it was too large and burdensome an amount to withdraw at once, I contacted Clebins and requested that the bonus deposited today be transferred to my personal account. Military intelligence appropriately laundered the money by dividing it among accounts of ghost companies located abroad with low corporate taxes, then deposited it into my account held under a different name.

Perhaps due to the complex events like kidnapping and terrorists that had rushed in within a short time? Despite the substantial compensation that would normally make one jump in surprise, I just stared blankly into space as I left the counter.

Even until I left the bank and arrived at Francesca’s villa, my floating feelings wouldn’t settle.

“……”

As I walked with my soul seemingly sucked out, the magnificent villa of Francesca came into view. Red roof and white walls. The villa built on a coastal cliff looked as if it had torn through and jumped out of a painting.

While I couldn’t immediately purchase such a palace-like villa with five years’ salary, if I served for about 10 more years and scraped together my retirement funds, I might be able to buy a three-story detached house in the southeastern resort area of Abas, known for its murderous land prices.

No, I definitely could buy one. If you work as a civil servant for a certain period, the country even reduces the taxes you pay when purchasing.

…Should I get kidnapped one more time?

As I had such frivolous thoughts, I shook my head while facing the strong sea breeze. And I let the wind carry away my idle imagination. It was a story that lacked reality no matter how I thought about it.

By the time I arrived at the front of the villa after trudging along the path, just as I was about to press the doorbell, a phone call came in.

Checking the number displayed on the screen, I reflexively let out a deep sigh.

“Ah, what is it.”

A humming, playful voice flowed from the phone. It was a seductive voice full of mischief.

-‘You don’t call me darling anymore, Major?’

“Ugh…. Have you been drinking during the day?”

It was Veronica.