Ch.420Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

# When the Cold Wind Embraces the Ruins

As the cold wind embraced the ruins and the Milky Way stretched across the night desert sky, Hassan’s elite forces arrived at the scene with police in tow.

“Bring heavy equipment to lift the debris!”

“There’s a risk of further collapse. Secure the area.”

“Hey! Keep civilians out! Sir! I said don’t come in!”

Only ruins remained where battle had swept through.

Amidst the chaos of wailing people searching for missing loved ones and shouts preventing entry, I stepped out of an ambulance dispatched from the local hospital.

“……”

Last night’s fierce attack had finally ended. Cleaning up the scene would be the responsibility of the warlord occupying the city and the corrupt authorities.

I witnessed many things in the chaos. Some things I shouldn’t have seen, and others I didn’t want to see.

I look up at the sky.

The cool breeze guides the dead to the afterlife. Bright clusters of stars cross the desert sky as night falls.

The blue flame still remains, brightly illuminating the darkness.

As if comforting souls at rest.

## Episode 16 – The Six Million Dollar Man

Once the warlord took action, the situation was quickly resolved.

The warlord’s firefighters worked with the local fire department to rescue residents trapped under buildings. The hospital director, contacted by the Sheikh, opened all wards to accommodate patients, and the warlord began relief operations, opening his storehouses.

I left the scene with my exhausted body. Nasir, who had received my report, stepped out of a meeting to offer words of comfort.

Our conversation was brief because of patients needing attention. He offered to provide lodging with enhanced security, and unlike before, I accepted his proposal.

“……”

“……”

Until the moment we entered our lodgings and tried to sleep, Kamila and I didn’t exchange a single word. We hadn’t been apart for long, yet my mouth was itching to speak.

I had many questions but remained silent. It wasn’t an appropriate situation for conversation. We each went to our rooms and fell asleep.

The next morning, I could hear information from Nasir’s lips.

“It was Sanya’s doing.”

“……”

“They put a bounty on foreign journalists.”

As expected, the attack was Sanya’s work. More precisely, assassins had moved in response to the bounty placed by Sanya.

“Since yesterday, foreign journalists similar to you have been attacked.”

“Were there any casualties?”

“No.”

Foreign journalists covering the civil war were all under the protection of warlords. It was more surveillance to prevent cooperation with government forces than actual protection.

The initial response from the warlord’s forces had prevented the assassinations, proving that both surveillance and protection had served their purpose.

However, as I was an intelligence officer posing as a journalist, I didn’t receive Hassan’s protection. More precisely, Nasir had removed the surveillance for my sake.

But now that his guest had been attacked, Nasir couldn’t avoid some responsibility.

He appeared before me with an extremely apologetic expression.

“It doesn’t appear to be the work of foreign intelligence agencies or this country’s counterintelligence. Our informants in the capital were completely unaware of the situation.”

Nasir, who had come to my lodging, explained the details of the large-scale attack incident.

Hassan’s intelligence network extended to the capital controlled by government forces, largely thanks to Nasir and Nayan’s efforts.

They had friends from university who held high positions in the military, police, and counterintelligence agencies. It was a typical example of a corrupt civil service running on connections and bribes.

Anyway, it’s fortunate. The Imperial intelligence agency hadn’t caught my trail.

“Regardless of the circumstances, we of Hassan don’t intend to let this matter slide. Just as you are, the journalists are also my guests. How could a host remain idle when his guests have been harmed?”

I nodded silently while smoking a cigarette.

“The fact that Sanya placed a bounty is a good sign. It means they’re nervous. It appears to be a measure to hide secrets that absolutely must not be revealed to foreigners.”

“I think the same. Sanya is currently cooperating with Imperial intelligence agencies.”

“Perhaps there were civilian massacres during combat. Please look into related rumors.”

Nasir gladly agreed to do so.

Drawing the smoke from the water pipe deep into my lungs, I exhaled. I absorbed the following explanation into my mind.

The warlord explained how he came to learn about this situation. While he had informants planted in Sanya, the biggest breakthrough came from an assassin.

“Salim, I believe. The companion of the sorcerer who attacked you. We interrogated him.”

By interrogation, he meant torture. Torture is the only way to extract information quickly. It’s a method even intelligence agencies commonly use.

They learned much from torturing the sorcerer: how he heard about the bounty on foreign journalists, how targets were selected, and the route to claim rewards from Sanya after completing assignments.

While Fatima, who had a grudge against me, had selected me as a target, it was the sorcerer himself who had gone to collect the reward.

I went to find this sorcerer named Salim and extracted all the information he knew.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

Water streams down over the face covered with cloth.

Waterboarding, the “enhanced interrogation technique” beloved by intelligence agencies. As my American friends call it.

I removed the damp cloth with my fingers and said:

“Refreshing, isn’t it? I hear water towers have been hit by shelling lately, making water hard to come by. How about it? Want some more?”

“T-that…”

“More? One more time?”

“Stop! No more!”

After spitting out a mouthful of water, the sorcerer revealed all the information he knew. From the contact who delivered reports to Sanya’s client, to meeting places, times, and even code words.

With this information, the warlord mobilized elite troops to kidnap the contact. After visiting several safe houses, I collected useful information in less than half a day.

Although the methods were radical and cruel, Nasir didn’t hold me accountable. After all, he needed the information too.

“This is what I just found out.”

“Thank you. Is there anything you need?”

“I’ll need your continued cooperation going forward.”

I secured a promise from Nasir.

“I promise on my tribe’s honor and my own.”

It was a promise to maintain relations with the Military Intelligence Service even after the conflict between Asen and Sanya ended.

It would be good for Hassan to obtain weapons, capital, and information that would be difficult to acquire otherwise through the intelligence agency’s help. And the Military Intelligence Service could carry out dirty work through the warlord’s hands and seek regional stability. It was a business beneficial to both parties.

“……”

I stood in front of the door when I returned to my lodging.

I had postponed this confrontation using post-incident management and work as excuses, but now I had to face it.

With a tense expression, I reached out and gently knocked on the door. Knock, knock.

“Kamila.”

“……”

“I’m coming in.”

*

The time I spent apart from Kamila wasn’t very long, but I knew nothing about her.

How she had managed to come here from the capital, why she had come looking for me instead of returning to the Empire.

There was no need to think deeply about it. I was the one who had taught Kamila. I had taught her how to avoid checkpoints and how to find transportation through dangerous areas. She probably moved according to what she had seen and learned.

So I didn’t ask about that. Instead, I raised a different question.

What concerned me was something else.

“Are you alright?”

A weak response came from beyond the door.

“…I’m fine.”

Perhaps because she was alone in the bathroom, her voice echoed slightly.

From that small, weak voice, I could tell that Kamila was crying.

“That doesn’t sound fine at all.”

“Because I killed someone.”

“……”

I bowed my head at her response. I leaned against the wall near the bathroom and quietly lowered my head.

Because I knew exactly how Kamila felt. I didn’t say anything. I simply understood and empathized.

-Shhhhhh….

The sound of water began to come from beyond the door. The noise of water streams hitting tiles and the sink.

Whether she had turned the faucet on strongly, the sound of fierce water streams continued, and shortly after, the sound of dry heaving mixed in.

The sound of vomiting.

“……”

The retching began, but no food came out. That was natural. Kamila hadn’t eaten today.

Locked in the bathroom, she repeatedly gagged at random intervals. Since early morning when Nasir had visited, she had been vomiting for a full day.

A faint sigh escaped me. The sound of tearing tissue paper and rustling as she wiped her mouth came through the door.

Shortly after.

Having seemingly regained some stability, Kamila finally spoke.

“…I’ve seen people die many times. But this is my first time killing someone.”

Her voice was filled with emotion.

Kamila, leaning against the wall, began to continue. It was a heartfelt confession.

“…I don’t like it.”

“……”

“From the beginning.”

Kamila, separated by the door, poured out her inner thoughts.

“Aiming at people with guns, taking lives with magic. I don’t like it. Actually, I’ve felt this way since I arrived here.”

“……”

“Helping a warlord.”

As I well knew, Kamila was a volunteer with an international aid organization.

Following her doctor sister, she had traveled through Middle Eastern conflict zones like Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan. She had also visited African civil war regions like South Sudan and Congo.

And from my perspective, having been on several business trips and deployments to her destinations, conflict zones were hellscapes that could drive people insane.

Government forces versus warlords. Rampant terrorist organizations. Countless civilian massacres, and rampant robbery and looting.

That’s exactly where Kamila had been.

I don’t know exactly what she saw and felt. But I know she’s experiencing the barbarity of warlords firsthand. And that she doesn’t have good feelings toward them.

That’s why during the past fortnight, Kamila, under the warlord’s protection, occasionally showed signs of displeasure. Even if she didn’t show it outwardly.

It couldn’t have been easy for someone like Kamila to accept this operation.

“……”

Leaning against the wall, I quietly sank into thought. Kamila spoke to me through the door.

“Are you used to it?”

“To what?”

“Just… everything we’re going through…”

“……”

After thinking for a moment, I answered honestly.

“Yes, I am.”

“…Why?”

“Because it’s not my first time.”

Killing people, supporting warlords. These aren’t firsts for me.

My time at the intelligence service gave me many things. Some I wanted, others I didn’t.

“……”

Hearing my words, Kamila asked:

“How?”

That question contained multiple meanings.

How could I get along with warlords?

How could I take lives so easily?

How could I commit murder and remain unfazed?

And,

How could I make such decisions?

After a moment of silence, I opened my mouth.

The answer came readily. Perhaps it was an answer that came because I had lived thoughtlessly, or perhaps because I had pondered it for too long.

The answer I gave was somewhat deflating.

“Because those were my orders.”

“…As a soldier, you obeyed orders?”

“Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

I leaned my head against the wall and added:

“I know it’s wrong to follow immoral and inhumane orders without questioning them. I know it’s a very irresponsible and cowardly excuse. But isn’t evil usually wearing an ordinary face?”

A cowardly excuse. And the banality of evil. Words from a movie about North Korean spies and a book about Eichmann, a Nazi collaborator who massacred Jews.

Though the famous line from the movie and the passage from the book differ, the commander of the North Korean spy team and the Nazi met the same end.

Death.

The commander who uttered the cowardly excuse committed suicide with a pistol, and Eichmann was sentenced to death in a Jerusalem court. Then he ended his life on the gallows.

Both men followed orders in their respective positions and met similar ends in different places.

“……”

Kamila would probably feel the same about my answer.

Claiming that supporting warlords, starting civil wars, and killing people was just because of “orders” is nothing but a cowardly excuse.

Still, since I was at it, I decided to add a bit more to my excuse.

“There was a plaque at the company I used to work for.”

The military intelligence agency of the Republic of Korea, located somewhere in Gyeonggi Province. People called it the Defense Intelligence Command.

There hung an old plaque. A phrase gifted by a president who seized power through a coup and ended his dictatorship with the assassination of the intelligence chief.

I murmured the words I had seen on that plaque long ago.

“Loyalty pierces stone and metal.”

Loyalty that pierces stone and metal.

The National Intelligence Service and the Defense Security Command have changed their names many times and have many mottos, but the motto of the intelligence service has always remained the same.

Kamila, seated beyond the door, was listening silently. I exhaled softly and continued my excuse.

“Well… My grandfather used to work as an investigator in an intelligence agency. A counterespionage investigator for the Central Intelligence Agency. He caught spies.”

“……”

“Now they’ve changed their name twice and replaced their motto, but the very first motto they used was this.”

We work in the shadows, aspiring toward the light.

The representative motto of the Central Intelligence Agency. What exactly that “light” meant was a subject of various opinions in society, but the motto that remained clear in my memory was different.

Silent dedication, solely for the protection and glory of the Republic of Korea.

I say:

“Honestly, I always made fun of the grammar mistakes, but I liked it the most. It wasn’t my company, but they really nailed that one sentence.”

I added with a slight smile:

“Protection and glory. It’s cheesy, but it’s a fact.”

Different agencies, but similar appearances.

The state commanded, and I followed.

With loyalty that pierces stone and metal.

For protection and glory.

“The work intelligence agencies make us do. Honestly, we hate it too. Who would want to kill people? How many people are born thinking, ‘When I grow up, I want to kill people for a living’?”

“……”

“The higher-ups probably hated it too, even if they didn’t say so. No matter how much it’s for national interest, a legitimate government working with warlords? That’s messed up. With that budget, they could have fed starving people.”

But what can you do? When they say jump, you jump.

Intelligence agencies are workplaces too, and employees are people. If you don’t want to end up on the street worrying about your next meal, you have to endure even if it sucks.

I know it’s a cowardly excuse.

But remember this.

If there are people who eat meat, there must also be people who kill livestock.

“You asked if I’m used to it?”

Finally, I answer her question with an honest heart.

“If you’re asking if I’m used to it, yes. If you’re asking if it doesn’t affect me, no.”

“……”

Silence passes between us.

We exchanged silence across the door. Though no words were spoken, in that silence, we could understand each other.

“Someone has to do it, don’t they?”

This is my answer. I don’t know if it’s the answer Kamila wanted to hear.

What flows through the stillness is the pouring water stream.

After a long silence, Kamila spoke.

“…Honestly. I wanted to run away. Helping a warlord. No matter how I thought about it, it seemed wrong.”

“But you stayed.”

Click, the sound of turning off the faucet is heard.

“Because you were here.”

“……”

“I thought things could change. If I joined the intelligence agency. Even if I couldn’t become an outstanding person, at least I thought it would be better than before when I couldn’t do anything.”

A chuckle escaped me.

“But when I came to my senses, I had already changed.”

I thought deeply while leaning my head against the wall. Then I moved away and walked to the table.

Eventually.

As the sound of water completely stopped, Kamila finally opened the door and revealed herself.

Her face was gaunt, but her eyes were still alive.

Staring at her, I opened my mouth.

“…You said you wanted to become an intelligence officer.”

Kamila answered. With a resolute voice that showed no hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Even now?”

She nodded.

Sitting on the table, I looked at Kamila and asked:

“Even after seeing all this?”

There was no answer.

But she had already answered. Anyone could see it in her determined eyes.

I reached out and pulled out the chair in front of me. Then I said to Kamila:

“You said you wanted to become an intelligence officer.”

“……”

“Let’s talk about your career path.”

*

I returned to Abas with an emergency passport issued by the company.

Upon receiving contact from the Ministry of Justice, which manages immigration, the Military Intelligence Service immediately ordered me to come to headquarters.

And so I arrived at the main building of the Military Intelligence Service. Below the director’s office located at the highest point.

There, I faced Leoni.

“……”

Despite my return after a while, my superior’s expression wasn’t particularly bright.

It wasn’t because I had used an emergency passport without an emergency. Nor was it because I had returned without reporting.

Leoni was clearly showing her discomfort as she scanned through documents. Then she threw the papers on the desk and said:

“What is this?”

“As you can see.”

The document that arrived on the overseas department head’s desk was one I had written. It wasn’t a report.

This was a plan.

“As I reported. I want to recruit a new person. More precisely, a collaborator.”

“Yes, I know. I’m not blind. But what is this?”

“What do you mean?”

Whoosh! Papers scattered in all directions. She had thrown the documents.

The papers floating in the air fell to the office floor. It was an attitude unlike Leoni, who disliked messiness in work or surroundings, but the person who had made the mess didn’t seem to care.

Pointing at the thrown papers, Leoni raised her voice.

“Why is the hero’s name in a document about finding a collaborator?”

In the fallen document was Kamila’s photo. Behind it, at the bottom of the paper, was written the name “Frederick Nostrum.”

Pointing at the plan, Leoni continued:

“I told you to secure the hero, help Hassan defeat the Imperials, and locate your new colleague. When did I order you to recruit the hero as a collaborator?”

“……”

Having thrown the documents but still not satisfied, the department head continued to be upset for quite some time. It was natural since her subordinate had ignored orders and acted on his own.

Leoni leaned on the desk and looked at me.

And she asks:

“Why are you doing this?”

I chose my words carefully for a moment.

“It’s not strange to recruit collaborators. Even if they’re high-ranking. It wouldn’t be the first time the company has bribed and intimidated people.”

It was like asking why she was making such a fuss. More precisely, it meant that this kind of thing wasn’t new, so why was she suddenly being so particular.

Leoni smiled slightly.

“Is that your answer?”

“It’s necessary for the operation. Please approve it.”

“You clearly have your own thoughts. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have done this. But my thoughts are different.”

Leoni sat heavily in her office chair and sank into the backrest.

“She’s the hero. A figure the world is watching. Do you know how dangerous it would be if it became known that our company recruited this woman?”

“Isn’t that a risk that comes with planting informants in high positions? The same goes for the operation supporting warlords in the Mauritanian continent.”

“That’s true. But this is different.”

Leoni mentioned an obvious fact.

“Do you know who’s currently with the hero? The Grand Duchess. Alexandra Petrovna Smirnoff. Direct imperial lineage and Grand Duchess of the North. The Emperor’s aunt.”

“I know. I’ve met her several times.”

“Do you know how many times that person enters and exits the imperial palace daily? She can enter the Emperor’s bedchamber. The Emperor’s bedchamber, which is heavily guarded by the Imperial Guard.”

“I know that too. It’s intelligence from the Petrograd branch. Their staff is quite skilled. It’s well-known in the company, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But if news that the hero is cooperating with our Military Intelligence Service were to reach the Emperor’s ears-“

I cut off Leoni’s speech.

“I’m sorry, Department Head, but I think you need to change your branch staff.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Even those supposedly skilled employees didn’t know that the Emperor has dementia and is secretly receiving treatment from the Saint?”

*

The incident began with a phone call from the Order.

“Hello?”

-“It’s me.”

“Ah, Commissioner.”

Inquisition Commissioner Pedro. One day, he suddenly contacted me.

At that time, I was busy with office work at headquarters. It was the new year, and Lucia’s canonization ceremony had just ended, so I remember being extremely busy.

Commissioner Pedro, who had contacted me, shared news about Lucia.

-“Saint Lucia has departed for the Empire.”

“The Empire? I haven’t heard about this.”

-“It’s an unofficial schedule. I don’t know the reason either.”

I was aware that Lucia had left the country, but even he didn’t know why she had gone to the Empire. Even intelligence agencies don’t know everything.

So to get information, I went to the highest person in the Order.

Lucia’s sister-in-faith and the Order’s Saint, Veronica.

“Veronica. Lucia suddenly left the country. Do you know anything about it?”

Veronica, whom I met at a hookah shop in the holy city of Laterano, tilted her head. She didn’t know that Lucia had gone to the Empire.

“Lucia went to the Empire? Why would she?”

“That’s what I came to find out. Can you think of anything?”

“Let me see…”

Lost in thought, Veronica searched through her memories. Suddenly, as if something occurred to her, she slapped her knee.

“Ah! Come to think of it, the Grand Duchess once visited Lucia. Was it during the canonization ceremony? She came secretly at night with a carriage.”

“Is there any reason the Grand Duchess would secretly visit the Saint?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know that much, but Lucia did mention something in passing.”

“What was it?”

“She said she owed a debt to the Grand Duchess? Something about receiving help with Inquisition activities in the North.”

I knew about that. But I didn’t know that the Grand Duchess had kept Lucia in her debt.

I waited briefly at the Order for Lucia to return. And when I received Veronica’s message that Lucia had returned to the country, I immediately went to find her.

The truth I heard there was something I had never expected.

“…What about the Emperor?”

“He has dementia.”

After winter passed, and the season of budding life returned.

I received intelligence that the Emperor had dementia.