Ch.327Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

“Committing acts of terrorism against innocent civilians is something that deserves condemnation.”

-Abdul Qahar Balki, Taliban official and spokesperson for Afghanistan’s Foreign Ministry, criticizing the IS-K terrorist attack at Kabul Airport.

Episode 13 – There Is No Country for Wizards

“You might be wondering why I suddenly brought up the wanted list. People hearing this for the first time would be confused.”

The analyst who had pulled up the top-secret document spoke with a slight limp in his gait.

“So let me explain a bit for those who are new here. I’ll start with the background, so keep your eyes wide open.”

The analyst at the podium manipulated a remote control, and a new screen floated up.

What was projected onto the pristine white screen was a series of photographs.

“1979, Cecil, an overseas intelligence officer from the Royal Intelligence Service stationed in the Republic of Al-Yabd, Libya. While tailing a security officer from a research facility in Mamlaka to collect research data on military potion technology, she was murdered on the roadside.”

An old sedan. The shattered windshield was covered in blood.

Through the hastily set up police line and the spider-webbed glass, one could glimpse the blood-soaked driver’s seat.

Below it was the female intelligence officer’s personnel card.

The card, emblazoned with the Royal Intelligence Service emblem, contained detailed records of Cecil’s age, residence, her husband’s workplace evaluations, and even her children’s academy grades.

“1981, Ahmed from the Kingdom of Mamlaka.”

The next image showed a smiling man.

“He was an executive at the state-owned company that monopolized Mamlaka’s mana stone mines and a local informant for the Royal Intelligence Service. High-quality mana stones are popular in the international market. Kien, Fatalia, the Magic Tower… everyone wants to get their hands on them. So the company recruited Ahmed, but he was assassinated not long after.”

Under a banner that read ‘Abbas Kingdom-Mamlaka Kingdom Diplomatic Relations Anniversary Event,’ he was shaking hands with an official cover intelligence officer.

Ahmed, who had been an executive at Mamlaka’s state-owned company similar to Saudi Aramco, was a man with a friendly appearance and bushy beard commonly seen in the region.

Below that was a photo of Ahmed sitting in a hotel room.

Seated in a chair with his hands hanging down, head tilted back, and mouth wide open, Ahmed was dead with his eyes bulging.

Strange flowers and plants were sprouting from his mouth, making it look less like a corpse and more like a bizarre flowerpot.

“Next is a more recent incident from 1986. Military instructors from the Ministry of Defense and security personnel from the Military Intelligence Agency who were training local warlords in the Shafabi Toho State opened fire in the barracks. According to the testimony of the only survivor, a lieutenant, people who had been talking and drinking normally suddenly drew their guns and started shooting at each other.”

The photo showed about thirty people.

Local warlord officials wearing a mishmash of different military uniforms, instructors dispatched by the Abbas Ministry of Defense, and Military Intelligence Agency officers had gathered for a photo with the beautiful highlands in the background.

Right next to it was a photo of the barracks interior, which had been turned into a complete mess.

Bullet marks were clearly visible on the ceiling, lockers, beds, floor, tables, and chairs, with uncoagulated blood sloshing like lake water.

The analyst began his detailed explanation while displaying new photos.

“These photos document various assassinations, kidnappings, and terrorist attacks experienced by the Royal Intelligence Service and Military Intelligence Agency over the past decade or so.”

He adjusted his glasses once and continued speaking calmly and deliberately.

“If it had been ordinary interference attempts by foreign intelligence agencies, the company would have noticed long ago, but these incidents have no connection to intelligence agencies, at the very least.”

“……”

“In fact, it wasn’t just our people who died.”

The newly displayed photos contained documents from various intelligence agencies.

From the Imperial Guard, the Heresy Inquisition, the National Security Agency, to the Federal Intelligence Bureau of the Rushan Federal Kingdom and numerous smaller intelligence agencies across the continent.

What these documents conveyed was clear.

The deaths of field intelligence officers and informants.

The analyst jabbed at the air with his cane as if it were a baton and spoke.

“The terror continued for about 13 years from the late 70s to the mid-to-late 80s. Field agents from various countries’ intelligence agencies met unexplained deaths. We tried to analyze patterns, but the attacks themselves occurred at irregular times, and there were no commonalities among the attacked agents. We know only two things for certain.”

“……”

“One, all attacks were carried out against intelligence agency employees working on the Moritani continent.”

I asked the analyst.

“And the other?”

“Ah, that’s the most interesting part. The only weapon the terrorists ever used wasn’t guns, vehicles, bombs, or poison…”

Tap. The pot-bellied analyst struck the ground with his cane and began to grin.

“It was pure magic.”

*

The types of crimes committed by wizards are diverse.

On the minor end, there are pickpockets who snatch tourists’ bags with magic and disappear down dark alleys on broomsticks, and on the more serious end, there are robberies, looting, arson, and murder.

When major incidents occur, public opinion clamors for stronger regulation of wizards, but statistically speaking, the rate at which wizards commit crimes in developed countries is extremely low.

This has nothing to do with the number of wizards, their individual conscience, or personality.

The reason wizards in developed countries don’t commit crimes is simply because the power of law enforcement applies uniformly across all regions.

If you commit a crime, it gets reported within 5 minutes, and within 30 minutes, a special forces unit specialized in countering grand magic arrives—what skill could possibly make crime worthwhile?

No matter how skilled a wizard might be in combat, it’s difficult to overcome numerical disadvantages and kill military or police combat wizards. To begin with, in developed countries, wizards who are good at fighting all serve in the military or police, or work for security companies escorting clients.

The situation with wizards in underdeveloped countries, however, was different.

“The countries on the Moritani continent haven’t achieved centralization due to tribalism and religious, political, social, and cultural conflicts. In Abbas, if a wizard so much as breaks someone’s finger, a special forces unit in full anti-magic protective gear will storm in within 30 minutes, but in those places, it takes the police 3 hours just to file a report. I understand though. When a country doesn’t have money and police officers’ salaries are months behind, who would want to work hard?”

In the Moritani continent, where industry mostly consisted of mana stone mining or harvesting and exporting raw materials, skilled wizards had two ways to make money:

Build a career and emigrate abroad.

Get involved in organized crime through connections.

It’s easy to understand if you think about Somalia, where fishermen and farmers all pick up guns and turn to piracy.

Of course, there are many countries on the Moritani continent that have built stable societies based on massive capital, like Saudi Arabia or Jordan. There are also countries run by sensible people, like Botswana. But creating a safe society requires money.

And most countries on the Moritani continent were among the poorest in the world.

With no money in the country, they can’t even pay civil servants.

Civil servants, not receiving their salaries, either slack off or take bribes.

Without resources to build infrastructure, let alone maintain it, life becomes harsh.

With dysfunctional police, public safety deteriorates. If political or religious issues get entangled and rebels rise up? Then civil war breaks out.

In countries that can’t even afford to maintain a single streetlight for years, who would come to arrest a wizard for committing a crime?

Wizards join warlords to make a living, smuggle drugs and weapons, and engage in combat with military combat wizards when the army appears. That was how wizards on the Moritani continent survived.

In other words,

Even if a wizard assassinated an intelligence officer in that region, intelligence agencies couldn’t even get proper investigative cooperation.

The analyst began his explanation, with a slightly excited voice.

“So for the past few years, we’ve just been twiddling our thumbs on this issue. We’ve been keeping a close eye on whether any company has violated the Nastasiya Treaty. But then, Director Leoni appeared like a comet and solved all our problems.”

The pot-bellied analyst raised his voice excitedly like a child who had discovered a toy section.

“She cooked and whipped the Interior Ministers and Intelligence Directors with sweet words and threats. Her intimidation was quite artistic. Thanks to that, we extracted a lot of data from the uncooperative Moritani intelligence agencies. It’s a result born of persistence.”

“……”

“Wow, looking at it this way, the Director is sharp in handling work, but her temper is really nasty. If she could just tone down that temper, she’d be a decent person. Anyway, once you enter the company, even normal people go crazy, you know? Just look at me, my hair is already-“

I half lost my train of thought at the sudden rambling that began without warning. How has he not been fired from the company with this kind of briefing style? Is his analytical skill that exceptional?

As the analyst continued to ramble on, I was starting to get annoyed when the Thanos-like operations team leader sitting in the back row with me opened his mouth with an exasperated expression.

“Shut your mouth, Larry.”

“Sorry.”

The pot-bellied analyst scratched his thinning hair awkwardly and replied.

“I got sidetracked again. Anyway! We began our investigation based on the magical traces collected from the terror sites. We registered the magical traces in the database and issued international terrorist wanted notices. But…”

Thud. The analyst slammed down his cane roughly.

“These damn wizards weren’t found anywhere! Not in the Royal Intelligence Service, Special Investigation Bureau, National Security Agency, Integrated Intelligence Department, Imperial Guard, Counterintelligence Agency, Magic Tower Security, or even the Heresy Inquisition’s archives!”

“……”

“It felt like the sky was falling. It felt like playing hide-and-seek with ghosts for five years. It was difficult to identify faces, names, genders, nationalities, or even the number of suspects. But then, Director Leoni brought new information!”

A new photo popped up on the screen. As everyone’s attention turned to the screen, I took a sharp breath when I recognized the face of the man in the photo.

No way.

Why the hell is that bastard showing up here?

“…Fabio Verati?”

*

The man in the photo was Fabio Verati, an intelligence officer who had worked for the Magic Tower’s quasi-intelligence agency, the ‘Ministry of Foreign Affairs Talent Development Institute.’

However, Fabio Verati was actually an undercover spy—an intelligence officer that the Fatalia National Security Agency had painstakingly infiltrated to monitor the Magic Tower.

Bang! Bang! The analyst tapped the screen with his cane and continued.

“Fabio Verati. An overseas intelligence collection officer for the National Security Agency. Until last year, he was a high-ranking intelligence officer working at the core of the Magic Tower government.”

The analyst dispatched from the Royal Intelligence Service paced in front of the screen, leaning on his cane. His eyes glinted in the darkness as light passed through his glasses.

“Director Leoni received materials that this man had obtained from the Magic Tower through information sharing with the National Security Agency, and I analyzed the vast amount of data spanning a full decade. And in that data, I discovered the wizards who committed the terror attacks and fled!”

The screen changed when he pressed the remote control firmly.

The new photo contained a list of names of certain people. It was the list of Secretariat staff members I had received through Clevins.

The analyst circled a few names on the list using a marker. Junior analysts pleaded, “Senior, that screen is company property…” but the pot-bellied intelligence officer paid no attention.

After capping the marker to prevent it from drying out, he pushed up his glasses with his thick fingers and pointed at the screen with his cane.

“The names I’ve highlighted here are wizards among the suspects whose charges are most certain. They are Magic Tower civil servants who were frequently or for extended periods dispatched to the Moritani continent… We narrowed down the scope by thoroughly examining the traces they left during their business trips—public transportation records, train tickets, regions visited, credit card payment details, cell tower signals that picked up their mobile phones, and so on.”

As a junior analyst manipulated a terminal, analysis data appeared. Abbas intelligence officers had hacked into cell towers, and intelligence officers dispatched across the continent had planted informants in card companies and banks to scrape all the data.

The analysis data alone didn’t provide precise information, but roughly sketching the outline suggested that at least eight branches were involved in the operation. Of course, given Leoni’s personality, even the branch directors were likely unaware of the operation’s details.

Let the right hand not know what the left is doing. Deceive your family first to deceive others. That was Leoni’s way of handling business.

It was the most orthodox method.

And also the fastest way to destroy a family.

Because even an employee’s family couldn’t access classified information. When I was young, my father would leave home without a word and not return for months. I thought my parents were fighting, but it turned out he was on business trips to mainland China and Hong Kong.

Once I learned the truth, I came to respect my mother for enduring and maintaining their marriage. Most people don’t understand such things. Maybe that’s why Leoni has been divorced three times.

Anyway.

As I decided to refocus on the briefing, the analyst who had been rambling off-topic had fortunately returned to the main point.

“Jean Marbot, Gabi Schneider, Karim Boumediene, Juan Pablo Martinez. These four who appear in the materials received from the National Security Agency are the most likely suspects. Considering that they stayed in the regions where the terror attacks occurred for more than two weeks, including the day of the attacks and the periods before and after, it’s almost certain. They’re very smart. They conducted reconnaissance to make advance plans.”

“Have you found out anything new?”

The analyst nodded at the deputy team leader’s question.

“Of course.”

After switching screens, the analyst wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and pointed at the screen. The screen was filled with intelligence I had collected over the past few weeks.

“Director Leoni activated the intelligence network in the northern Empire where the four terrorists were dispatched to investigate them. Behavioral patterns, social relationships, hotel locations, hotel structures and security status, frequently visited restaurants and cafes—we can perfectly plan either a kidnapping or an assassination.”

The operations team leader, who had been listening to the explanation, crossed his legs and rested his arm on the backrest.

“How did the interrogation go?”

“You mean Gabi Schneider? That was productive too.”

The analyst instructed his subordinates to prepare materials. After the sound of vigorous typing, new material appeared on the screen projected by the magical projector.

It was video footage.

In the video, Gabi Schneider was sitting tied to a chair.

Apparently affected by torture, she was breathing heavily in extreme anxiety. An intelligence officer standing in front of her, hands behind his back, asked her questions.

[Who else did you work with?]

[J-Jean Marbot…]

[Who else?]

[Karim Boumediene! Ahmad bin Rabani!]

[Tell me about Ahmad bin Rabani.]

The analyst, leaning on his cane, approached his subordinates and brought a printed photo to attach to the screen.

“Ahmad bin Rabani, who appears in the video. This is the name of a new terrorist we’ve discovered.”

The analyst explained that by interrogating Gabi Schneider, they had gathered evidence about the details of the terror attacks and the terrorists. Of course, such materials wouldn’t be admissible as evidence in court. Information obtained through torture has no legal validity.

But that’s only a concern in courts.

Intelligence agencies aren’t workplaces that fuss over such details.

The operations team leader, listening to the ongoing explanation, clapped a couple of times.

“Good. Have you found their location?”

“His name is on the Magic Tower delegation list. He’s in the north too.”

“Good, good.”

“It’s not all good news. Because…”

Click. When the analyst pressed the remote, the video began to play.

The paused video started to fast-forward.

[Is this person Jean Marbot?]

[Y-yes… Yes, that’s right.]

[Then who is this?]

[Karim Boumediene…]

[And this woman?]

[I don’t know, I don’t know. I’ve never seen that face before. Really.]

“The investigator brought in photos of Secretariat employees unrelated to the terror attacks and tested her a few times, but she answered truthfully each time. She also passed the lie detector test and the psychological warfare officer’s test.”

“So she wasn’t lying.”

Is that really the case?

The analyst, leaving a meaningful remark, rewound the video. In the video, the investigator was holding a photo in front of Gabi Schneider’s face.

[Who is this person?]

[…I don’t know.]

[I asked you who it is.]

[I don’t know. I can’t tell you. Please…]

[Does this look like a joke to you?]

[Aaah!]

An intelligence officer standing next to the investigator struck down with a bundle of rubber hoses. The sound of someone being whipped echoed through the speakers.

Glancing at Gabi Schneider’s back visible in the frame, I could see that her handcuffed hands were swollen. Rubber hoses are painful enough on their own, but when handcuffs are tightened to cut off circulation and blood pools in the hands before striking, the pain intensifies.

Clever thinking.

Just as I was thinking this, Gabi Schneider, her body drenched in sweat, spoke with trembling lips.

[…Hoo.]

That’s when it happened.

Bang! The explosion sound came through the speakers.

Simultaneously with the explosion, red blood spattered across the camera. Whether it covered the lens or not, half of the video was instantly covered in red liquid. Curses and screams came through the speakers as the half-covered camera fell to the floor. Someone must have knocked it over.

In the half-remaining video, the investigator was seen screaming with his hands clutching his face. The sound of a metal door banging open could be heard, and other intelligence officers rushed in to support the investigator, only to react in horror.

The video showed only the urgent footsteps of shoes striking the floor.

After stopping the video with a button press, the analyst put down the remote and spoke gravely.

“Gabi Schneider died when her head exploded during interrogation. The internal investigation confirmed that the investigators didn’t use any explosives. According to the doctors’ opinion after the autopsy, the explosion occurred from inside her brain.”

“……”

“Yes. She was eliminated.”