Ch.388Episode 15 – Life is Beautiful

# An Island in the City of Lights

Deep beneath the Military Intelligence Bureau headquarters lies a massive situation room.

Beyond the heavy iron doors and security systems that prevent unauthorized entry, the berets hanging near the entrance hint at human presence inside.

A blonde, tanned troublemaker with captain’s insignia emerged through the iron door and spoke first.

“I’m dying of sleepiness. Who works overtime on a Friday anyway?”

“Don’t be like that, Jake. Overtime isn’t exactly a new thing around here.”

A petite black-haired woman chided her colleague while adjusting her hair that had escaped from under her beret. Jake, looking annoyed, narrowed his eyes and glared at Pippin.

“I stay late every day, so what does that make me?”

“There are still people working overtime inside, blockhead. Save that talk for when we’re outside. So tactless…”

“I guess you’re right.”

Hearing the voices of the two through the still-open iron door, a colonel sitting in the situation room ran his hand over his bare scalp and muttered.

“…Life.”

Episode 15 – Life is Beautiful

The staff member guarding the entrance to the situation room took out a key after spotting the two people walking from the end of the corridor.

The situation room was a facility where recording devices of any kind—crystal balls, mobile phones, or magic papers—were strictly prohibited. The portly intelligence officer checked the names against the register and returned Pippin and Jake’s mobile phones.

As they left the office, Pippin checked the messages she had missed.

Jake asked, “Did someone call you?”

“My friends texted. They want to meet up this weekend. Want to come?”

“Sure, why not.”

The Military Intelligence Bureau headquarters was dark, well past closing time. Occasional lights leaked from offices where employees were finishing up work or continuing meetings.

“Evening meetings.”

“Must be some kind of incident.”

Whatever was happening in those offices had nothing to do with them.

After leaving the headquarters building, Pippin and Jake caught a taxi. As the taxi carrying its passengers entered the downtown area burning with Friday night lights, Jake began questioning Pippin.

“The Mauritania continent operation is wrapped up, right?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

The operation to find the unidentified man handed over by the Inquisition hadn’t been easy, but they were finally seeing the end of it.

“We’ve narrowed it down to four potential countries. Now we just need to find him.”

“Us? Or field agents?”

“Is there really a difference…?”

It wasn’t like they would stay at headquarters forever. Whether they found him first or someone else did, they would have to go wherever their new colleague was—that had been their fate since joining Frederick’s team.

“Ah, damn. When you put it that way…”

Jake scratched his head as if troubled.

It had been a month since Pippin and Jake had found a new place to live together. They’d put out the urgent fires and secured housing, so things should have been getting easier. But thanks to overly diligent employees, they were about to be sent abroad again.

After getting off in the bustling downtown area, the two entered their apartment building. An orc security guard with prominent molars protruding over tightly closed lips guarded the luxury apartment.

Pippin shook off sand at the entrance and turned on the magic lights, letting out an exclamation of admiration.

“Wow… this place is always nice.”

“Should we keep living here then?”

“I’d really like that if we could.”

Jake smiled slightly at Pippin’s wistful wish.

“Can you afford the rent?”

“Maybe if we both get promoted to major? Between the two of us, I think we could manage it with some to spare.”

“Somehow the tail seems to be wagging the dog here…”

This place, where the monthly rent was beyond what two captains could afford, was a gift from the company.

The company had taken care of everything—the move-in procedures, qualification requirements, funding, and even the complicated paperwork required for loans (especially income verification documents).

The reason why an intelligence agency notorious for being stingy with employee benefits had accommodated its staff was simple.

After news of the demon’s elimination spread, the Military Intelligence Bureau needed to protect employees involved in the northern conflict.

The main risk factors were journalists, diplomats, soldiers, and spies—people with impure intentions who wanted to dig into the truth about the north.

Perhaps that’s why the apartment the company had secured for them was like a fortress.

Due to customer anxiety following the department store terrorist attack months ago, the security company had obtained permission from the Magic Department to “use magic to subdue criminals in emergencies.” The entire apartment was protected by this company, and staff dispatched from the counterintelligence department had inspected the overall security of the accommodations. There was even a police station within stumbling distance.

Although it felt a bit suffocating to be under surveillance, it was much better. Half the comfort came from being safe from wiretapping and external intrusion, and half from not having suffocating neighbors like their superiors.

“You know the residence where the chief decided to move in?”

“Oh, that official residence?”

Pippin asked.

From what they’d heard, it was an official residence traditionally used by generals working at Army Headquarters. While they didn’t know the detailed history of the residence, anyone in the Defense Department would know the identity of the neighbors living around it.

“The neighbors there are quite impressive.”

“Poor chief. What if he runs into them on his way to work…”

After changing into comfortable clothes, Pippin and Jake sat on the sofa, tilting beer bottles and offering a toast to their superior’s peace.

“Originally, we were supposed to move into official quarters near there too.”

Jake wore a sympathetic expression. Pippin slapped the Golden Sun’s forearm and continued.

“That’s why I told you we shouldn’t move there. All the official residences in this capital are clustered together, so unless you want to salute every passing car, you shouldn’t live in such a place.”

“Do you think the chief knows?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he knew when he moved in?”

“He was probably too busy with company work to pay much attention to housing issues. You know the chief’s personality—he turns off his attention to personal matters when he’s working.”

“Come on… he’s been stationed in the capital for over three years. He must know who lives near the official residences.”

Of course,

Frederick was completely unaware of who lived near the official residence he was moving into.

Jake sighed deeply.

“…Would he know?”

A brilliant analysis with 100% accuracy.

“Well, the chief will figure it out himself. What do you want for dinner?”

“I get sleepy when I’m full.”

“You really… you want to do that even after working overtime, you pervert?”

“Fine, fine. Let’s just buy something nearby. Let’s not go far.”

The phone call came about two hours later as the two were drinking beer and joking around, thinking “surely not.”

*

The convivial drinking party concluded just an hour before midnight.

Brother Jerry and Sister Adela remained in the backyard to clean up. While proposing a company dinner was a superior’s privilege, cleaning the grill and disposing of leftovers was always the subordinates’ duty.

“Hey, pick up the grill.”

“Adela, is that how you talk to your older brother?”

“Should I lift this heavy piece of metal myself? Who was it that ignored his little sister’s suggestion to use something smaller because this was too big for a family?”

“Ugh…”

In the end, the Treasury official and Foreign Ministry official had to clean up after the Treasury examiner and royal lady-in-waiting.

But what kind of place is the civil service? It’s a fierce battlefield where superiors dump work on subordinates and steal their salaries.

Therefore, following the solemn rules of civil service, Brother Jerry and Sister Adela subcontracted the serious matter (cleaning the heavy grill) to an appropriate private entity.

“Aila!”

“Why are you calling me, sis?”

“Move it with magic!”

“…”

“Come on! You can do it. Hurry up!”

Aila, who had thrown off her university-emblazoned cape and donned a plain one without any insignia, looked at her enemies with a dispassionate expression, thinking they must believe magic was some kind of cure-all.

The once-promising magician from the Academy and University had been reduced to moving grills. It was a scene of subcontracting and re-subcontracting perpetuated by malicious civil servants.

“Ugh, it’s heavy…”

“Should I help, sis?”

“No, it’s fine… By the way, where are Mom and Dad?”

The youngest asked while floating the grill in mid-air. The eldest daughter responded as if stating the obvious.

“In their bedroom.”

Normally, Aila would have grumbled about why their parents were in the bedroom while their children were working hard, but instead, she was silently cleaning the grill with streams of water conjured from thin air.

The eldest son, who was cleaning up the charcoal, watched this and spoke with an approving tone.

“Our youngest has grown up a lot! Working at a company has matured you.”

“Not matured—probably just got scolded a lot.”

“Adela.”

The diplomat giggled. The Treasury official seemed displeased, but since they worked in different departments, the diplomat paid no attention.

Despite the family’s teasing, the company employee maintained her silence. Aila just quietly continued cleaning with magic.

“…”

Adela felt a strange sense of déjà vu at her sister’s silent cleaning.

“Hey. Did something happen at work?”

“No. Why do you ask so suddenly?”

“You’re too quiet. Aila, you’re not usually this quiet. Come to think of it, you’ve been working there for quite a while, but you’ve never talked about your company?”

“…”

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time. Tell us a bit.”

Jerry supported Adela’s suggestion.

“Yes, Adela’s right. We should know what our youngest is doing and where. We’re family.”

But no answer came.

Aila remained silent. She just continued cleaning the grill with magic. In the continuing silence, with only the sound of trickling water, she finally finished cleaning, stood up, and magically dried off the water.

Then she bluntly said:

“A company is just a company.”

At that curt response, Adela put her hands on her hips in disbelief.

“That’s it? What kind of workplace introduction is that?”

“Well, I don’t have much to say about it.”

Aila looked at her sister with a pouty face.

“It’s just a company that imports and exports goods. You both saw it before, right? It’s nothing compared to the Treasury or Foreign Ministry…”

“Aila.”

Jerry called his sister in a low voice.

“That’s disrespectful. It’s your workplace—you shouldn’t call it insignificant. We’re just curious about what kind of workplace you have, if the people are nice, what you do there. If the cafeteria food is good.”

The Foreign Ministry official challenged the Treasury official’s statement.

“Why bring up the cafeteria all of a sudden?”

“I’m curious if they feed you well.”

“I’m sure they do. Of all things to be curious about, why that?”

“Foreign Ministry, be quiet. Your cafeteria serves cuisine from around the world. That’s a waste of taxes and budget, you know.”

“At least it’s better than the Treasury cafeteria, notorious for its terrible taste. Yes indeed.”

This was a petty conversation for civil servants in their thirties. The company employee, who had been watching, finally couldn’t stand it anymore and joined in.

“It’s an ordinary workplace. The people are just okay, and the work is manageable. The cafeteria… I don’t know. The food is so bad I eat out every day…”

“That’s not good for your health.”

“Anyway, it’s just ordinary. Ordinary if you call it ordinary, special if you call it special.”

“What kind of workplace is that?”

Aila sighed at Adela’s retort.

“That’s what I’m saying, sis.”

“Why did you join such a place? You could have worked at other good companies. How about I write you a recommendation letter for the Magic Department?”

“No thanks. By the way, where’s Fred?”

The youngest inquired about the second son’s whereabouts. Where had he gone while they were cleaning up?

“He went to his room earlier. Seems like he got a call from the Defense Department.”

Jerry answered while moving the grill to the basement storage. Adela, who was organizing the refrigerator, giggled.

“Not the Defense Department, but the Church. Isn’t he involved with the Saint?”

The fact that the third child, who traveled around foreign countries, was involved with one of the Church’s only two Saints was a rumor known to the diplomatic world and everyone else.

The news that a virgin favored by the Celestial God had formed a relationship with a foreign man was such a scandalous rumor that the Pope nearly fell from the Holy See. In fact, when Pope John XVI heard the rumor circulating from a cardinal’s mouth, he staggered while holding his forehead, causing the guards who witnessed this to call for doctors and healing priests.

“I heard the Pope stumbled and fell when he heard the news.”

“How do you know such things?”

“The embassy isn’t just for play~”

The reason Adela knew information not widely known was because she was a diplomat.

A friend working as a second secretary to the Church had passed on intelligence beginning with “Today our consul was summoned to the Inquisition, and guess what…” That’s how she learned about her third brother’s scandal.

Of course, any diplomat would know this was just a rumor. The original source was a tabloid, and even major news agencies’ veteran correspondents couldn’t fact-check it.

The Inquisition’s quiet reaction also played a part.

If it had been true, they would have been the first to raise hell, but they remained unusually calm. The Inquisition’s intelligence capabilities were acknowledged even by the haughty Royal Intelligence Service.

There’s no way such a rumor could be true.

Adela smirked.

“Do you really think he’s involved with the Saint? I was just joking—why are you taking it so seriously?”

The eldest daughter scolded the eldest son.

Jerry, who had been pondering with a strict, solemn, and serious expression, frowned at Adela’s words.

“Fred’s reaction was intense. He even sprayed carbonated water on our parents’ faces.”

“He was just surprised. Has he ever introduced a girlfriend to us?”

“Hmm… no?”

“See? He couldn’t even date at the Academy—how could he find a girlfriend abroad? And a Saint at that?”

There was nothing to refute—it wasn’t wrong.

Jerry, trying to defend his brother as the eldest son, suppressed his laughter. He tried, but couldn’t help the occasional chuckle that escaped.

He remembered the image of his brother explaining that he absolutely did not have that kind of relationship with the Saint. The flailing hands and body were still funny to think about.

“There we go.”

After finishing the storage cleanup, the three siblings sat around the living room. They planned to enjoy snacks and catch up on family conversation before bedtime.

Aila, with a tired face, took over the sofa and opened her mouth toward the two.

“What about our brother? Should we call him down?”

“Leave him be. He’s already heard enough nagging from Mom and Dad about when he’s bringing home a daughter-in-law. Let him rest today.”

“But seriously, what is he doing?”

Just then.

Frederick, who had finished his phone call, collapsed on his bed and was cursing.

“Damn it…”

His next-door neighbor was the Army Chief of Staff.

*

A month ago, I received unexpected news when I arrived at the Foreign Operations Director’s office after being summoned.

‘You’re telling me to prepare to move?’

The Military Intelligence Bureau suddenly ordered me to leave my quarters. More precisely, they instructed me to relocate.

‘Your identity has been too exposed.’

‘Hasn’t my identity been exposed since I received my military officer appointment?’

‘This order takes that into account.’

The Foreign Intelligence Operations Director, the first female general produced by the Military Intelligence Bureau, said this:

‘Quarters are vulnerable to security because it’s difficult to control who comes and goes. How many employees live there? How can we control that? Hmm?’

Leoni pointed out the vulnerable security situation of the quarters and ordered me to move out. I easily agreed since this was something I had been concerned about recently.

‘I understand. Where should I stay then?’

‘We need to check the security of the safe house and establish preventive measures, so moving in is impossible for now. I’ve secured the budget, but Klevin’s subordinates are busy these days. Do you have a place to stay in the capital? If not, go to a hotel. I’ll cover your expenses.’

‘I can stay at the townhouse. I’ll decline the offer.’

‘We need to relocate the current occupant first, so wait about a month.’

‘Occupant?’

‘It’s an official residence. We have to give the previous owner time to move out.’

While “official residence” typically refers to places where ministers or speakers of the upper and lower houses stay, in the military, it meant where generals lived.

Giving a major a general’s residence? I wondered if this was legally possible, but I didn’t question the details.

The conditions were too attractive to nitpick.

‘First, we’ll completely replace the residence with anti-bugging and anti-eavesdropping materials, and take similar measures inside. Military police will protect the surroundings, and people will be assigned to help you manage the facility.’

Anti-bugging and anti-eavesdropping measures, security forces, staff commuting to the residence.

These were benefits usually given only to generals. But what I liked most was the location.

‘How long does it take to commute?’

‘Ten minutes by car. Within 30 minutes on foot.’

The damn Military Intelligence Bureau didn’t provide employee-exclusive accommodations. They stuffed all officers commuting to military bases in the capital into a cramped building and grandly called it “quarters.”

No more footsteps in the corridor at night, no more drunkards shouting because they missed a promotion. Living in a spacious house that could accommodate a large family without having to face idiotic neighbors was everyone’s dream.

And they would clean for me too, with a short commute?

Only a fool would refuse.

‘Let’s sign the contract right away.’

I signed the papers without looking back.

Leoni did ask, ‘Aren’t you going to listen to the rest of the explanation?’ but my mind was already painting a beautiful rosy future.

A spacious house. A quiet, peaceful neighborhood. Quick commute.

The only flaw was that it wasn’t my own property, but apart from that, it was a perfect house.

Having taken one step closer to my dream of having my own home (not really), I scribbled my name on the papers and returned to the situation room to finish burning the poppy fields.

And only now did I suddenly think:

“I shouldn’t have signed so carelessly…”

Sitting on the bed, I imagined tearing apart and killing my past self who had been smiling and moving out of the quarters a month ago.

But since time travel is a field abandoned even by arch-mages who can make teleportation possible, my resentful gaze, with nowhere to go, turned to the phone on the table.

The 7-minute call that had just ended was from the Army Chief of Staff’s official residence. It had been less than 10 minutes since I answered the late-night call and heard the other party say, “Ah, I’m the Chief of Staff.”

I still remember the first words of the four-star general who suddenly contacted a mere major’s mobile phone:

‘Ah, so you’re the fellow moving in next door to me.’

For a moment, I thought, what nonsense is this? When I checked, the official residence I was scheduled to move into was next door to the Army Chief of Staff.

For reference, the Minister of Defense (a former four-star general) lives in the house behind, and the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff and the Foreign Minister live in the house in front.

The moment I learned this fact,

I had to resist the urge to burn down the official residence I was scheduled to move into.

“No wonder Pippin and Jake got separate accommodations…”

I squeezed the skin of my face with my hand. Would it have killed you to tell me, you bastards?

Of course, the fundamental responsibility for this situation lay with me, who had signed the papers without properly listening to Leoni’s explanation. That made me even angrier.

“Life…”

I poured a full cup of whiskey and gulped it down. I couldn’t bear it sober.

My neighbor is the Chief of Staff. I have to host a housewarming party with the Minister of Defense.

I didn’t actually have housewarming plans, but what the Chief said before hanging up bothered me.

He said he would do his best to help me get along with the neighbors.

In other words, he meant he would gather the residents of the official residence village and throw a grand welcome party. I hope it was a joke. I suddenly remembered that the Chief had done something similar when he was appointed Corps Commander.

“…”

Lying on the bed, I stared at the ceiling with a blank mind.

The thought in my head at that moment was:

“…Should I flee abroad?”

As Camilla’s colleague, I could go anywhere.

I could immediately find an available position at any embassy, take a diplomatic passport and leave the country, or I could grab a forged passport, disguise myself as a third-country citizen, and fly abroad.

Escaping abroad under an unofficial cover seemed like a more sensible choice than burning down the official residence. And it was a realistically possible option.

“Maybe I should go see Camilla…”

Or Lucia, Francesca, Veronica. Even meeting informants like Dmitriy or Viktor would be better.

Anywhere would be better than being wedged between the Minister of Defense, the Prime Minister’s Chief of Staff, and the Chief of Staff.

I looked at the phone with a serious expression, deep in thought. It would be afternoon in Fatalia now—would Francesca answer the phone?

As I was deeply contemplating an exit strategy,

A lifeline suddenly dropped from the sky.

-♪!

I grabbed the phone that was vibrating and scraping across the table. The number on the screen looked like a common phone number in the capital. At least on the surface.

It was a call from the company.

I immediately got up, deployed anti-bugging and anti-eavesdropping equipment, and after confirming security was established, I took the call.

“What’s the matter, Matt?”

A deep male voice came through the magical wavelength from the other end of the phone.

-‘Work. I’d like you to come to the office.’

“Has there been an incident?”

-‘Something like that.’

The Royal Intelligence Service employee continued.

-‘Your colleague. I think we’ve found him.’