Ch.412Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

“Don’t you need a shaman?”

That was the proposal offered to me by a shaman from the Moritani continent who suddenly appeared.

“A shaman?”

I tilted my head quizzically.

The woman spoke.

“I’m a shaman. Employed by Hassan.”

After hearing those words and carefully examining her face, I finally realized who she was.

The shaman was the same woman who had brewed coffee behind Nayan Al Bas when I first met him. Her face had been covered by a hood then, but looking at her nose bridge and lips now, I suddenly remembered.

“Ah, you were with Chief Al Bas that time?”

“You remember me.”

“I enjoyed the coffee. It was delicious, thanks to you.”

The shaman waved her hand, declining the compliment. I smiled slightly and quietly began to think.

Why would a shaman suddenly approach me?

I had two main theories:

First, the shaman might be showing interest in a foreigner and approaching me.

Second…

“Shall we talk for a moment?”

She might be acting on someone else’s orders.

Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Hassan’s military faction shaman guided me to a nearby café. It was a common café selling traditional Moritani desserts.

I inhaled the aroma of an unknown tea with its rich scent of tea leaves.

“You said you had something to tell me?”

“Yes.”

The shaman smiled.

“To be precise, I have a proposal.”

“For me?”

The head covered by a robe nodded up and down.

A proposal from a shaman. I could roughly guess her intentions, but I was curious. It was my first time conversing with a shaman. Above all, the person approaching me was a shaman affiliated with a military faction.

Mages and shamans in this region generally fall into two categories.

One group consists of those who have secured employment thanks to their innate talents and remarkable achievements. These typically include people who join foreign companies or large corporations.

Some of them even emigrated abroad. Since the Moritani continent was the birthplace of primitive shamanism and home to ivory towers, quite a few mages and shamans entered these ivory towers.

On the other hand, some knocked on doors other than corporations: government forces, military factions, criminal organizations. Those without decent connections to break into the corporate world or lacking the exceptional skills needed to emigrate mostly chose this path.

Of course, joining government forces or military factions doesn’t necessarily mean their lives are ruined. Unlike advanced countries with systematic combat mage training, armies in the Moritani continent welcome even mediocre mages or shamans with open arms.

These individuals often joined military factions or criminal organizations.

Some built reputations there and transferred to foreign expeditionary forces’ outsourced security companies or private security firms serving wealthy clients. In public, they were known as mercenaries, security contractors, freelancers, or adventurers.

The shaman who sought me out clearly belonged to the latter category.

She was employed by the Al Bas tribe, a sub-tribe of the Hassan military faction.

The reason such a shaman would approach a war correspondent was obvious.

“Don’t you need a bodyguard?”

The shaman confidently made her proposal. She was suggesting I hire her as my bodyguard.

“A bodyguard? Hmm. A bodyguard…”

I sipped the tea and pondered, wondering what her true motive was for approaching me.

“Why are you suddenly making such a proposal?”

“For money, of course.”

The shaman introduced herself to the foreign journalist.

“My name is Fatima. I’ve been working for Hassan for four years as a shaman. I mainly help the Al Bas tribe, but I also assist with Hassan’s affairs.”

Fatima. The shaman who introduced herself thus explained her situation.

The scenario I had anticipated unfolded from her lips.

“Hassan employs me, but the pay isn’t great. The treatment isn’t much better either.”

“Do you feel you’re being treated unfairly?”

“Not unfairly, just… a bit disappointed?”

The shaman expressed her dissatisfaction with the salary and treatment she received from the Hassan military faction.

“In this country, unproven mages and shamans receive an average salary of 1.8 million. I get 2 million from Hassan.”

1.8 million. My mental calculator started working quickly.

In the country where I’m currently operating, an ordinary worker earns about 200,000 per month. That’s the average monthly income for workers.

Border region workers with more job opportunities earn three times that amount, 600,000. The monthly salary that military factions pay to entry-level mages and shamans is three times higher at 1.8 million.

That means they earn three times more than border region workers and nine times more than ordinary workers each month. A mage who stays with a military faction for just two months can earn more than a worker’s annual salary.

Of course, it’s an absurdly small amount compared to the salaries of mages in advanced countries like the Kiyen Empire or the Abas Kingdom.

In terms of exchange rates, a military faction mage receives a much lower monthly salary than my sister Ayla, who works for a trading company. Ayla could probably accumulate several years’ worth of a military faction mage’s salary in just six months.

I put down my teacup and slowly began to speak.

“You receive three times the salary of a border worker. Is that not enough?”

“Far from enough.”

Fatima smiled weakly and raised both hands, silently indicating she was broke.

“So you’re looking for bodyguard work?”

“Foreigners tend to spend generously. I once had a job guarding a foreign correspondent. It wasn’t personal protection but working for a company securing accommodations, yet the pay was quite good.”

“Better than working for Hassan now?”

The shaman nodded.

The fact that a short-term contract job guarding foreign correspondents’ accommodations paid better than being a military faction shaman made me wonder how the labor market in this area functioned.

“Well, I understand your situation.”

I smoked a cigarette while considering the shaman’s proposal.

First, hiring this woman as a bodyguard was impossible.

While war correspondents might travel with local guides and bodyguards, my identity was that of an intelligence officer.

An intelligence officer cannot arbitrarily hire bodyguards without company approval. Intelligence agencies operate on the principle of minimizing contact with civilians, so they don’t allow their employees to hire bodyguards, interpreters, drivers, or even housekeepers.

From an intelligence officer’s perspective, there’s no reason to hire civilians anyway. When even neighbors are viewed with suspicion, how could hiring a local foreigner be acceptable?

In this regard, what I focused on wasn’t whether the shaman was valuable as a “bodyguard,” but whether she was worth recruiting as an “informant.”

I reached a conclusion fairly quickly.

“I’m sorry.”

I tapped my cigarette into the ashtray and bluntly stated. It was a clear rejection.

When the deal fell through, the shaman made no effort to hide her displeasure. Fatima leaned forward and began questioning me in a threatening voice.

“…Why?”

I looked up at the ceiling without answering.

Then I explained why I couldn’t accept the shaman as either a bodyguard or an informant.

“You’re too money-hungry, aren’t you?”

“Huh!”

She made a scoffing sound and shot me a sharp glance.

Of course, there were reasons for rejecting her proposal.

First, her personality was problematic.

While people who value money make good targets for intelligence officers to buy, those who are too greedy must be avoided for recruitment. Their cooperation with intelligence officers is motivated purely by financial gain.

People bought with money can betray you at any time. It means they’re ready to stab you in the back if someone offers more money.

And beyond all the complicated reasons, you should never keep money-hungry people close. People who are obsessed with money likely have flawed character. In the third world, someone fixated on money is either a fool or a con artist.

I asked the shaman:

“When does your contract with Hassan expire?”

“Why do you ask? You’re not even considering hiring me.”

“Just curious.”

“Next June. That’s when the contract ends.”

Next June meant there was almost a year left on her contract.

Yet she was looking for a new employer when she wasn’t even close to completing her term, but still had a significant period remaining. Her motivation was money.

Just this alone gave me a clear estimate of how risky it would be to hire this woman.

“Contracts require good credit. Credit. Is it right to look for a new job without even completing your term?”

That wasn’t the only issue.

Given the nature of military factions, a shaman represents tremendous firepower. This is evident from the fact that they consistently pay three times a border worker’s salary.

If a foreigner were to take away such an asset, Hassan would certainly not look kindly upon it.

For the sake of relations with the military faction, and for my and Camilla’s safety, I judged it best to keep my distance from the shaman.

That’s why I refused.

“You still have a contract with Hassan, and you’re an important asset to them. You know that, don’t you?”

“So what? I’m not satisfied.”

“If you’re not satisfied with the conditions, you should go to your employer. Why are you bothering a foreigner now? Besides, I already have a bodyguard.”

I rejected her proposal with plausible reasons, but the shaman’s displeasure showed no signs of abating.

Fatima glared at me coldly, her face clearly showing her annoyance. Her gaze was particularly fierce and vicious.

“Ah, that mage girl? She was pathetic.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The military faction people were saying that the mage abandoned the journalist and ran away. She threw away her weapon and fled, leaving the journalist to escape from robbers alone.”

Damn it. That rumor has already spread everywhere.

Those stupid military faction bastards seemed to have no concept of keeping their mouths shut. Of course, since the incident occurred before Nasir took an interest in me, they probably had neither reason nor time to control the information.

I looked at the shaman with an uncomfortable expression.

“That’s an issue I’ll handle myself. It’s not your concern, is it?”

“I guarantee that if you keep such a mediocre person as your bodyguard, you’ll be found dead in the desert. This is advice.”

“Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that advice, okay?”

There was no need to continue the conversation. I gathered my things to leave.

The problem was that the shaman wouldn’t stop running her mouth.

Fatima kept hurling curses at my back as I was leaving the café.

“I’m really saying this out of concern.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure you are.”

“You might not care if you die, but does that mage feel the same way?”

I stopped abruptly as I was reaching for the door handle.

Looking back through the mirror by the entrance, I saw the shaman still sitting in her seat, smiling at me. It was a sneer.

After checking the mirror, I picked up a teacup from the shelf and threw it at the shaman.

Crash! As the cup shattered and fragments scattered everywhere, a deafening silence followed the sound of breaking. Everyone—laughing customers and staff bringing out steaming desserts—turned to look at us with surprised expressions.

I walked toward the shaman, stepping on ceramic fragments with my shoes. Placing my hand on my waist, I said:

“One more word and I’ll split your mouth open.”

“…”

The shaman’s gaze was fixed not on my face but on my waist. As I placed my hand there, part of a large knife handle protruded from beneath my slightly raised jacket.

Of course, it wasn’t visible to others from that angle, so there was no problem.

“Waiter.”

“Y-yes!”

“Here’s money for cleaning, the teacup, and a tip. Sorry for causing a disturbance.”

“N-no problem!”

I handed a wad of cash to the local boy and left the café.

It was a stupid day in a stupid country.

*

Despite the minor disturbance with the military faction’s shaman, fortunately, the military faction didn’t hold me accountable.

The shaman had shut her mouth, perhaps embarrassed by the moment when she nearly got hit by a teacup.

In a neighborhood where honor is highly valued, dishonorable behavior carries social consequences. Since the cause of this commotion lay entirely with Fatima, who was trying to arbitrarily break her contract, she would likely face hardship if the truth came to light.

Anyway, I spent my time without major issues. Collecting intelligence to analyze into information, receiving and checking materials from headquarters and the operations team.

While intelligence officer duties were gradually getting on track, what I focused on most wasn’t preparation for the operation but arms dealing.

“Yes, I’ve confirmed the fourth batch of goods.”

The weapons smuggling I had started as a side job began to gain momentum.

First, it was weapons confiscated from rebels by neighboring countries’ armies, decorative supplies stored in quiet warehouses.

Then, supplies used by active government forces.

“500 assault rifles, 22 machine guns, grenades and ammunition. Perfect.”

“Weapons made by dwarves are a hundred times better than those made in the Empire. These are weapons we produced ourselves.”

“Of course. Domestic products are always better than imports. Supporting industry while making money. That’s how capital flows.”

Corrupt government officers who had tasted money began to put their hands on military supplies. While the weapons trade payments were cheap for me, they represented several years’ salary for them.

As transactions continued, the number of people addicted to capital rapidly increased. Pippin made a scathing assessment of this phenomenon.

“There’s an epidemic spreading in the Moritani continent.”

That epidemic referred to capitalism.

With the introduction of capitalism and an unlimited competitive market, numerous offers came in. From company commanders to battalion headquarters staff, battalion commanders and higher-ranking officers.

I even received a trade proposal from a general.

“I hear your business acumen is excellent.”

“Oh no, not at all! You have plenty of money, Commander, while I’ve only handled small change.”

“What kind of business is it? Let me hear about it.”

I made contact with a regional commander from a country bordering Hassan’s military faction.

He subtly suggested weapons trading, and I welcomed it with open arms.

“You’ve come to the right place! Before we discuss business, would it be alright to take a look at the merchandise?”

The regular army’s weapons warehouse was a goldmine.

Not just rifles and machine guns, but towed artillery responsible for unit support firepower, and tanks and armored vehicles that would run as soon as fuel was added.

I toured the command’s weapons warehouse with the regional commander.

“How many rifles do you have?”

“About 30,000 or so.”

“30,000? To my eyes, it looks like barely 20,000.”

“We can order more rifles from the factory.”

“Good, very good. I’ll give you 2 million as a down payment, so let’s start with what’s in the warehouse. We can receive the remaining quantity later.”

The regional commander diverted weapons from the units under his command and sold them to an arms dealer. I handed over the transaction payment along with a substantial bribe for the commander.

“What is this?”

“Consider it a small token of my appreciation for you, Commander.”

“It seems like quite a lot for a token.”

“Ah… just keep it. Your son got into university, didn’t he? You’ll need a lump sum for tuition and other expenses.”

“…”

The gentle coercion and threats worked perfectly.

I silenced the regional commander by promising him a “tax.” Such money doesn’t just fall from the sky, and I was able to do this because I had a clear view of his family relationships.

The regional commander who accepted the money delivered on his end of the bargain.

He promised fresh weapons and ammunition straight from the factory, regular supply of parts needed for maintenance, and even offered to have his soldiers handle the inspection.

The pinnacle of this excellent service was the military escort. The regional commander assigned his subordinates to guard the trucks exporting weapons to the Hassan military faction.

The commander introduced this as a measure to protect the weapons from robbers and local police.

“Nothing is more important than people. In an area where rebels operate, vehicles can be targets of attack at any time.”

“Ah, so Commander, you’re thinking about people’s safety…?”

“That’s right.”

Bullshit.

A corrupt general who sells military supplies wouldn’t care about the lives of military faction members, especially foreign ones. The regional commander provided escorts solely to prevent the deal from falling through if the weapons were seized.

Of course, I didn’t refuse his kindness.

“Thank you for your honorable decision, Commander.”

The weapons purchased from corrupt government officials crossed the border and were delivered to the Hassan military faction.

The military faction requisitioned vehicles used for transporting livestock to carry the weapons.

“Load them quickly!”

“We need to return before sunset! Hurry!”

As military faction soldiers loaded weapons onto trucks, military faction officers slipped cash to the drivers. It was a daily wage paid by the military faction to the drivers.

Drivers attracted by the money transported the weapons without complaint. Meanwhile, I pointed out smuggling routes to Hassan military faction officials from a desert with sparse vegetation.

“Move them to Checkpoint 3 on the northeastern border. The surveillance area is wider there, so security is relatively lax. The roads are somewhat maintained, making it less burdensome to transport goods, and if necessary, you can escape to another location with the weapons.”

“Is this route guaranteed to be safe?”

“Of course. I’ve already bribed the officials.”

It wasn’t just officials from neighboring countries who received bribes. Officials from the country where the Hassan military faction operated also took bribes from me.

I constantly sought safer, more reliable methods to complete weapons deals. And those efforts soon bore fruit.

Hassan military faction’s elite unit, newly equipped with modern weapons. While reviewing the unit’s parade, I conversed with Hassan’s leader, Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan.

“A full battalion armed completely with modern firearms. What do you think?”

“Hmm…”

Sheikh Nasir Al Hassan observed his troops with his hands behind his back. Though he didn’t express it explicitly, I could see a subtle heat kindling in his eyes.

“Perfect.”

“Today it’s one battalion, but tomorrow two companies will complete their armament. Next week, a regiment-sized unit will be fully armed. With better weapons than the government forces.”

“Your skills exceed my expectations.”

Nasir was very satisfied with this deal. So was I.

As the transactions gained momentum, the quantity gradually increased. While the first deal involved only a few trucks, now more than ten trucks were busily crossing the border.

So I began searching for new smuggling routes through recently recruited informants.

“Ah, Staff Officer! It’s been a while. Have you been well? About the border checkpoint information I received before. I was wondering if you could look into other areas as well.”

The informant I had planted in the government forces used his connections to obtain government force secrets.

While the staff officer worked hard, the help from the Military Intelligence Service couldn’t be ignored either.

“Yes, Director Leoni. I just sent the 9th batch. I need aerial photos of the border region. Could you send them?”

“Ah, you’re the unit commander in charge of the reconstruction project, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from my seniors. I have a favor to ask…”

“Oh. I’ve confirmed the forged documents. Thank you for your help, Branch Director. I’d appreciate it if you could ensure the counterintelligence people here don’t catch wind of this.”

The Military Intelligence Service across the ocean was supporting my business using various information assets.

Aerial reconnaissance assets, intelligence officers from expeditionary forces, experts affiliated with branches. Of course, my subordinates like Pippin, Jake, and Charnoi, as well as the Royal Intelligence Department operations team consisting of Matt, Bill, and Larry, were no exception.

“Matt? Can you talk now?”

-‘Meow.’

“Ah shit, you startled me. Caer. Is that you?”

-‘Yes, it is.’

“I was calling about the equipment I requested earlier. Could you talk to your team leader and check on the progress? Could you pass the message to Matt?”

-‘Meow!’

The operations team continuously shared information with me.

Surprisingly, the most helpful person was Larry. The information from the Royal Intelligence Department’s senior analyst was very sharp and accurate.

After assessing the scale of weapons crossing the border, he predicted that Hassan military faction’s main units could be armed with modern weapons within a few months.

-‘Hassan’s units are well-trained but severely lacking in weapons. In fact, weapon shortage is a chronic problem for military factions in this area. Hassan will likely undertake a major military reorganization through this deal. The officer corps will change, and so will the weapons.’

“You estimated six months until full equipment, right?”

-‘That’s right. But it will take longer for the Hassan military faction to properly utilize the weapons they’ve received. They’ll need to train with the new weapons and change their doctrine. Above all, maintenance is the issue. If parts supply is cut off, most weapons will become scrap metal.’

I agreed with that analysis.

In fact, after the US withdrew from Afghanistan, the Taliban government that occupied Kabul captured massive amounts of American equipment. However, due to issues with maintenance, education, and parts supply, they began storing the weapons in warehouses before a year had passed.

While the Hassan military faction and the Taliban don’t share identical conditions, Hassan would need a long time to adapt to and properly utilize the given weapons.

In other words, time was on our side.

-‘You could negotiate new terms based on weapons and parts supply, maintenance, and education. Since your company is familiar with the Kiyen Imperial Army’s weapon systems, you could dispatch maintenance personnel. Or with cooperation from the Ministry of Defense, you could send a military advisory group.’

“I’ll mention it to the Director. But you know? If parliament opposes it, it’s all for nothing.”

-‘I know. I certainly do.’

As the sound of a cane tapping came through the radio, the Royal Intelligence Department’s senior analyst added:

-‘But remember. Weapons smuggling should end at winning the military faction’s favor. If the trail gets too long, the Empire might start tracking it.’

“Don’t worry.”

I put a cigarette in my mouth and answered briefly.

“I’ll clean up and get out before the Empire bastards catch on.”

The weapons trade advanced like a ship sailing with a favorable wind.

But as with all things in life.

Accidents happen suddenly.

*

On the way back to Hassan’s territory. Enjoying the wind while riding in a truck across the wasteland. As the sandy wind coming through the open window gently tickled my hair, I was lazily smoking a cigarette when a military faction officer spoke to me.

“Excuse me, sir.”

“What is it?”

“I think we have a problem.”

I shifted my gaze following the military faction officer’s gesture.

In the place his finger pointed, there was an unfamiliar government force checkpoint.

Perhaps they increased checkpoints due to the martial law declaration that was causing a stir in political circles. Noticing a checkpoint set up in an unexpected location, I recorded the coordinates and reported the situation over the radio.

“Stop!”

The military faction’s trucks stopped in response to the government soldier’s hand signal.

Curious gazes observed the dozen or so trucks. Rhythmically tapping my fingernails on the window frame, I exhaled smoke and grinned.

“Hello? You’re working hard.”

“There will be an inspection. We request your cooperation.”

An officer with a lieutenant’s insignia approached and announced the inspection. Though an annoying event, this was a tolerable situation.

I naturally handed the documents to the officer. Receiving them, the officer flipped through the papers and read the text.

“Customs documents. Have you paid the duties?”

“Of course. One must pay taxes regularly, right?”

“This is strange. The documents say you’re importing home appliances, but this…”

The officer began scanning the truck convoy with a puzzled look. The convoy stopped at the checkpoint consisted of more than fifteen trucks—a large-scale transport operation.

Perhaps sensing something was amiss, the officer’s gaze changed. He returned the documents and asked for cooperation with the vehicle search.

“I need to check inside. Please open the cargo area.”

“Ah, wait a moment. I forgot to show you the ledger. Here, take a look.”

The clipboard I had placed on the floor was passed to the lieutenant. It was a checklist of items in the cargo hold.

Listed on the worn paper was an inventory of home appliances: refrigerators, microwave ovens, magic power chargers, and the like.

The lieutenant began checking the documents with a puzzled expression. As he did so, his hand suddenly stopped while turning a page.

“…”

Wedged between the papers was a stack of crisp cash. A bundle of 5,000 tachrons, consisting of fifty 100-tachron bills.

After confirming the bribe in the clipboard, the lieutenant began staring at me with an expressionless gaze. Tossing the clipboard back through the window, he placed his hand on the pistol at his waist and ordered in a cold voice:

“Get out.”

“…”

“Everyone out!”

At the government officer’s shout, the soldiers began to move.

Soldiers armed with Kiyen Empire-made assault rifles were hesitantly approaching the trucks.

Seeing this, the driver broke into a cold sweat and readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, while the military faction’s lead passenger tensely placed his hand on the assault rifle leaning against the gear shift.

I got out of the passenger seat with my hands up, maintaining a relaxed attitude. The smile on my face remained.

After looking around at the officers and soldiers who had come to watch, and the convoy of trucks loaded with weapons, I said to the lieutenant:

“Let’s see.”

“…”

“You want to see, so let’s see. Come this way.”

I took the young officer, who looked disgruntled, to the cargo hold. Then I pulled back the dusty cloth to show him the contents.

What was loaded on the truck was an enormous quantity of weapons and ammunition.

Seeing this, the lieutenant opened his eyes wide and shouted:

“Weapons!”

At those words, government force soldiers began rushing out.

As the government forces moved, the military faction also took action. Hassan military faction soldiers, who had abandoned bolt-action rifles for assault rifles, jumped out of the trucks and aimed their guns at the government forces.

As Kiyen Empire-made assault rifles were pointed at the lives of government forces and the military faction, the lieutenant aimed his drawn pistol at me.

After surveying the checkpoint in the barren desert where the standoff was taking place, I turned my gaze to the lieutenant aiming at me.

The lieutenant said:

“I’m arresting you on charges of weapons smuggling.”

“…Arrest?”

I chuckled.

Looking around with an amused expression, I pointed to the weapons in the truck.

“Take it all if you want. Including the tax I gave you earlier.”

“Keep quiet if you don’t want to rot in jail on bribery charges.”

The lieutenant warned coldly, pointing his pistol at my face.

Soldiers armed with firearms aimed their muzzles at me as I faced off with the lieutenant.

“No, no. This isn’t a gift for you.”

“What?”

“Aisha. Your daughter.”

I looked at him with a smile.

“I heard she just entered the Academy. The Magic Department, was it? Well done, well done. A magician from your family.”

“…”

“Wouldn’t she be happy if you bought her a broom to celebrate her admission?”

Leaving the stiffly frozen lieutenant behind, I looked at the other soldiers. The first person who caught my eye was a very short man.

Though I was meeting him for the first time, I called his name in a very familiar tone.

“Abdul! How’s Saeed doing? I heard he won the soccer tournament. Breaking through defenders and shaking the goal net, he’s quite skilled. I heard he’s dating the cheerleading captain?”

The small man silently lowered his gaze. I approached him and stared, but he wouldn’t even look at me.

Next was a man with a gruff impression. He was a tall, lanky man who looked like he might be good at sports.

“You must be Yusuf. I heard Amatulla is pregnant. Three months along? Well, this is a good time. They say classical music is good for prenatal education. How about buying a phonograph made by the ivory tower during your next leave?”

I pointed to the soldier with the sturdy build and spoke in a friendly manner.

A gulping sound broke the silence. A thick Adam’s apple bobbed once.

In the uncomfortable silence, I received the gaze of the soldiers. Looking over the government forces guarding the checkpoint through my sunglasses, I walked around silently.

“You’re all at a good age. Some have girlfriends, some are married. The sergeant is still single, causing his father no small amount of worry. I understand. Past thirty and never brought a woman home.”

“…”

“To date women, you need to take care of yourself. Women these days don’t just date any man, right? You need to wear nice clothes and use good cologne to be attractive. That’s how you can introduce a daughter-in-law to your bedridden father.”

As I was looking around, my eyes met the lieutenant’s.

The pistol that had been pointed at my face had somehow dropped. Even if he pulled the trigger, it would barely hit my shoulder.

“Before it’s too late.”

I lowered the pistol in the lieutenant’s hand. Though I didn’t apply force, the muzzle went down without resistance.

After moving the gun away, I placed my hand on my waist and slowly began to speak, looking around at the soldiers.

“Gentlemen.”

“…”

“No matter where you are or what you’re doing, whether inside or outside your unit, I can find out what you’re doing. The same goes for your families.”

The foreigner added:

“I can help you live in paradise. Or I can help you live in hell on earth. So decide. Here. Now.”

My outstretched hands pointed to the ground.

The soldiers’ gazes turned to me.

At that moment, my lips parted. The common language of the Moritani continent carried a famous quote from a Bolivian drug lord who once dominated an era.

“Do you prefer silver?”

The rifle-armed military faction members took a step toward the soldiers.

“Or do you prefer lead?”

The lieutenant’s trembling lips suddenly opened.

His judgment was swift, and his decision was wise.

*

The international arms deal was perfectly executed.

I took items from foreign government forces and international coalition forces and passed them to the Hassan military faction, which then armed all its units with modern weapons.

In just a few months, the Group 3 military faction would not only be able to subdue other military factions by force but also potentially challenge the forward-deployed government mechanized units.

The growth of this business owed much to the informants I had planted in the government.

Government office workers provided personal information about relatives of border checkpoint troops, while the police intelligence chief mobilized his informants to monitor the streets and rival military factions.

The most crucial help came from the military. A staff officer awaiting promotion to major, whom I had recently recruited, made outstanding contributions.

Border checkpoint layouts, military maps including unit deployment status, personal information of checkpoint commanding officers and schedules of checkpoint troop rotations, and more.

He generously provided secrets that could only be obtained from within the military.

I expressed my gratitude to him.

“Yes, Staff Officer. You’ve done excellent work this time. Thanks to you, things have gone well. I’ve sent you a gift, so please check it when you have time. You’ll be very pleased with it.”

The weapons trade was conducted entirely to benefit the Hassan military faction.

When the Military Intelligence Service collected weapons, I sold them at bargain prices. Though I was selling at a loss, it wasn’t really a problem because the Abas parliament provided enormous operational funds.

So in reality, the biggest beneficiary of this business was the Abas government. For mere pocket change (though taxpayers might be furious about it), they had won the favor of one of Moritani’s largest military factions.

All that remained was to deal with Asen and Sanya.

If gambling with other people’s money is the most fun thing in the world, how entertaining would a fireworks display funded by taxpayers’ money be? Though I didn’t express it openly, I thought it would be quite an entertaining event.

When I shared this sentiment, the British intellectual’s expression soured.

“…What kind of metaphor is that? Fireworks? Isn’t that a bit inappropriate for military factions fighting each other?”

“Well, I see it differently.”

“From what perspective do you reach such a conclusion?”

Facing Camilla, who expressed doubt, I asserted confidently:

“Because military factions fighting each other is far better than British forces dropping bombs on civilians’ heads in the Middle East. It’s several times better than sending troops to ‘enlighten’ African blacks.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m joking, joking. Now that you understand, stop breathing fire and clean up the place.”

After spending considerable time teasing Camilla, I’ve developed some know-how. It means I can now dodge her flames even with my eyes closed.

Of course, there were situations where I nearly got my hair burned trying to dodge with my eyes closed, so I would quickly move my body only after seeing her mouth open, then close my eyes. I don’t understand the principle, but when she turns her head while breathing fire, the flames go out. That’s the only flaw in Camilla’s flame show.

After playing with the British flying-Jim mule for a while, I began preparations needed for the next stage of the operation.

-‘I got a message from Caer saying you need help.’

“Ah, Matt. Good timing.”

I connected communications with Matt, the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team leader.

The Moritani continent, true to being the continent with the most mysteries, had poor communications. Sometimes sandstorms would accidentally touch communication lines or deflect magic waves, causing communications to break.

-‘The sound quality is quite good today. The sandstorm must have passed.’

“Yes, according to the weather report, we’re just outside its influence. It’s close, but we’re fine. So, Matt. When do you plan to depart?”

-‘At the earliest by the end of this month, and by June at the latest, we should arrive at the operation area.’

It seems the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team is beginning to prepare for activity.

After I was deployed as an advance party, Leoni worked tirelessly to mobilize the Royal Intelligence Department’s operations team.

The “Committee”—a consultative body of the parliamentary intelligence committee and Abas intelligence agencies—opposed the deployment of armed units, citing possible diplomatic friction with the local government, but Leoni was no pushover.

She was a woman who had served as a branch director in the macho workplace of the Military Intelligence Service. Though her promotion was nearly derailed by an accident during her time as branch director, her active service merits were highly regarded, and she was dispatched as a director to the Royal Intelligence Department. After commanding intelligence operations there, Leoni eventually returned to the Military Intelligence Service, earned her star, and became director.

This is almost like coming back from the dead.

Would even resurrected ninjas and aliens who have never experienced death not be surprised to see Leoni?

The committee members and parliamentarians who met with Leoni reversed their decision and decided to deploy the Royal Intelligence Department operations team to the Moritani continent. The process doesn’t matter. What matters is that support is coming.

“Understood. See you in the field.”

-‘Take care. And about your subordinate. Caer’s friend.’

Referring to the beastfolk intelligence officer’s friend meant Charnoi. They were orphanage buddies, weren’t they?

Charnoi had made a tremendous fuss about Caer, who had deceived his childhood friend and joined the Royal Intelligence Department.

That fuss was so severe that even Pippin, known for his good temperament (though Jake would vehemently deny this), was fed up with it.

So when that name suddenly came up, I began to feel uneasy. I cautiously opened my mouth:

“Did Charnoi cause some trouble?”

-‘We’ve decided that your subordinates and our team will move together this time, and I wanted to ask if it’s okay to put him in the same group as Caer.’

“Ah, was that it? Well, do as he wishes. I consent.”

There’s no problem with friends working in the same group. Still, a beastfolk and nymph combination. How curious.

This isn’t Animal Farm. How strange to have different species on a team. Though I shouldn’t talk, given that I use orcs and dark elves as informants, it’s still a curious thing.

-‘And by the way. I got news from a friend at a foreign company.’

“What kind of news?”

-‘They’ve confirmed movement of Imperial intelligence units near the activity area. Quite close to where you are.’

“…”

So the movements of the Reconnaissance Command have been detected.

If it’s information shared from a foreign intelligence agency, the Royal Intelligence Department would have verified it to some extent. So the accuracy of the information is likely high.

Matt said he didn’t know why those spy bastards had crawled all the way here, but I had a good idea.

That’s why I couldn’t leave Camilla’s vicinity even after the communication ended.

Finding my behavior suspicious, Camilla asked with a puzzled expression, tinged with some anxiety:

“What’s wrong? Did something bad happen?”

“…No.”

A worried look crossed Camilla’s face. She took my hand with what seemed like a forced smile.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t worry. You’ve been doing well so far.”

Right. I’ve been doing well.

I nodded. And smiled gently.

“I’ve never had problems. You were the problem, Camilla.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Watching you makes me feel like I’ve left a child by the water’s edge. Stop causing trouble and do better.”

“Really now. Treating me like a child…”

Camilla smiled slightly and turned her gaze out the open window.

In the twilight desert, gray clouds float against a backdrop of the Milky Way that seems ready to pour down.

Densely packed starlight adorns the sky, and vegetation at the horizon stretches its branches toward the sky, while an old radio repeats government propaganda like a broken record.

Silence arrived hand in hand with tranquility. With this pastoral scene as a backdrop, night comes again like a traveler crossing the peaceful sands.

“It’s beautiful.”

Camilla murmured, and I turned the radio dial. Then I increased the volume.

Soft singing echoes across the desert.

Along with a serenity that seems like it will last forever.