Ch.458Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

# Silver wings descended through the clouds, creating a spray of water as they touched down on the vast runway.

The U.S. military transport aircraft moved along the guideway lights.

As the pilot received the stop signal and operated the panel, the rear ramp door slowly opened, and a white man with a bag slung over his shoulder sauntered down.

‘Hey, Michael.’

Blue eyes behind sunglasses looked in my direction.

The CIA officer, who made eye contact with me as I waved casually, roughly grabbed the bag on his shoulder and bumped fists with me in greeting.

‘Long time no see. How does it feel to fly again after so long?’

My American friend shot back in Korean with a rich accent.

‘Ah- A cool and heavy sensation.’

‘Bullshit….’

Behind the slouching CIA officer, I could glimpse military-green cases that looked like moving equipment.

Americans in civilian clothes were pushing and pulling equipment as they disembarked from the transport plane. Unable to contain my curiosity, I nodded toward the cases.

‘What’s that? You brought an awful lot of luggage for a short trip.’

‘Those? Well, they’re not from our company.’

‘Not from Langley? Whose are they?’

Michael added briefly.

‘Fort Meade.’

‘NSA?’

‘Yep.’

We looked at the NSA employees. Michael glanced at the equipment loaded on the transport plane and muttered in passing.

‘I heard they’re deliveries ordered by SUSLAK (Special U.S. Liaison Advisor-Korea).’

‘Ah, that NSA branch.’

Several soldiers entered the hangar guarded by U.S. military personnel. The Asians wearing digital camouflage were clearly ROK military at first glance.

We passed by them briefly, but the soldiers neither asked where we were from nor acknowledged us. If our eyes happened to meet, they would turn away without hesitation.

Taking my eyes off the soldiers, I fiddled with my cigarette pack and blurted out.

‘Must be from Seongnam.’

The 777 Command under the Intelligence Headquarters located in Seongnam, Gyeonggi Province. The neighboring agency specializing in signals and communications intelligence.

They didn’t reveal their affiliation, but they were clearly employees from there. There was no other unit that interacted with SUSLAK.

‘They could have shared the plane with us. It’s awkward running into each other like this when we’re both out on field work.’

‘Is your ancestor paying for the jet fuel?’

‘Whatever, let’s just get out of here. We both have work to do.’

We tactfully moved away and chatted while smoking cigarettes. Of course, it was just casual talk by our standards.

‘The satellite unit photographed the Hoejung-ri area in Hwapyeong County, Jagang Province the other day, and there were unfamiliar units stationed there. Regiment-level.’

‘A regiment? IRBM perhaps? What does TGT (North Korean Intelligence Target Division of Defense Intelligence Agency) say?’

‘They’re viewing it as signs of missile launch tests. But Hoejung-ri is a recently built base, right? They might have deployed newly operational missiles there.’

‘I heard the Yeongjeori base has been showing unusual activity lately, and suddenly a regiment-level unit is deployed at Hoejung-ri, seven miles away….’

‘Those damn commies. They just had an ICBM failure not long ago, and now what are they up to? We should just crush Pyongyang with tanks already.’

Pff, smoke escaped between my sneering lips, and Michael burst into a hollow laugh.

‘Still going on about communists? Aren’t you tired of it?’

‘Hell no. They’re just fucking bastards.’

‘….’

Michael started staring at me. I glared back at him as if asking what his problem was.

At that moment, my American friend put down his cigarette and suddenly spoke to me in English.

‘…Are you okay?’

‘What?’

‘I heard the news. Someone from your team was hit in Georgetown. Your junior, right?’

‘….’

‘…I get why you’re angry. But cool your head, man. If you keep focusing on personal matters, it’ll affect your work. What are you, Hamlet? John Wick? Are you planning to go find them and kill them all?’

I turned my head and exhaled smoke.

‘It’s not personal.’

‘Then?’

Thud, the cigarette butt rolled on the ground.

My shoe crushed the discarded butt.

‘It’s work, that’s all.’

A headache began.

A hazy fog enveloped my eyes, and as the sunlight disappeared, darkness came.

It was a blackout.

Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

“Camilla, please listen without getting angry.”

I began with a gentle voice.

“Why did you do such a terrible thing? Even the angriest person wouldn’t normally set fire to something. Your parents would surely be saddened if they saw you like this.”

“…Who made me angry in the first place?”

“Let’s face reality, please.”

Her snow-white cheeks turned pink, and Camilla subtly averted her gaze.

Flushed cheeks typically indicate that someone is feeling shame or embarrassment. However, Camilla’s expression showed neither shame nor embarrassment.

Then why were her cheeks flushed?

The answer to that question was simple.

Bright red flames danced from side to side, burning the trees, and the smell of burning permeated the air. The heated atmosphere devoured dust and paper, belching out long black burps.

Looking at the blazing building, I clutched my head.

“How could you breathe fire just because you got angry…”

Whether she was furious at being treated like a bio-translator or provoked by the deceptive food bait, Camilla had screamed ‘GYAAAK!’ before spewing flames, which was immediately followed by ‘KYAAAK!’ screams.

This was the result.

Staring blankly at the building engulfed in flames, I calmly admitted: This is hopeless.

Fire safety laws might as well have been thrown to the dogs—no sprinklers, no fire prevention magic. Even in a city inhabited by exiled wizards, fire safety magic wasn’t mandatory, it seemed. Or perhaps the construction company had cut corners.

We might be arrested as criminals for arson, but I wasn’t worried. While I did provoke her patience and cause the explosion, Camilla was the arsonist. I wasn’t at fault. That’s just how it was.

Perhaps due to her past experience of burning down an African farmer’s cornfield cultivated with blood and sweat, Camilla held her head high shamelessly. Look at that, just look at that. Half-dazed, I could only click my tongue at her nonchalant demeanor.

“As expected of someone with a criminal record. Setting a building on fire in such a short moment.”

“…Who are you calling a criminal!”

Thwack! Camilla’s kick struck my backside.

How could someone who barely exercises be so strong? As I jumped up after being kicked in the buttocks, a scream escaped my lips.

“Ugh, my god!”

Camilla threw a bucket at me and stretched her arms toward the burning building. Having been hit with a bucket on top of everything else, I made a pitiful face, but she didn’t care about my situation and immediately barked an order.

“Hurry up and help put out the fire!”

*

The fire caused by Camilla’s carelessness and my “mistake” was barely contained after the efforts of the perpetrator (again, not me).

Extending her arms toward the burning building, Camilla concentrated and drew upon her magical power.

When her delicate hand moved to one side, the flames tilted as if pushed by the wind. As she swept her hand like scraping away a sand castle on the beach, the flames escaped through the windows, soared into the air and toward the ceiling, before gradually diminishing and disappearing.

That’s how the fire was suppressed.

Apart from the entire first floor including the guild reception and waiting room, parts of the second and third floors, and the soot-covered exterior walls and equipment, there was only minor property damage. Fortunately, there were no casualties.

However, it was too early to relax, as the aftermath of compensation for damages and legal punishment remained after successfully extinguishing the fire.

I looked around and mentally calculated. How could I talk my way out of this?

My judgment was swift and my decision bold.

“Let’s run.”

I quickly suggested we escape. The strategic retreat, or “pants run,” favored by intelligence officers.

Camilla glared at me incredulously.

“You’re suggesting we run away from here?”

“It’s not running away.”

“Then what is it?”

“We’re not running away, we’re advancing. Just in a different direction.”

In professional terms, a reverse charge.

Of course, it was nonsense that wouldn’t convince anyone.

“What will people think if we set a fire and run? Besides, didn’t we come here to gather information? We should at least get something.”

“Says the person who started the fire? You’ve got some nerve.”

“No, that was initially Frederick…!”

The fluttering continued. It’s your fault, not mine. Why did you provoke me? You should have thought about the consequences.

After bickering with me on the street for a while, Camilla took a deep breath and disappeared into the burned building.

And a moment later.

Surprisingly, she emerged with her hands full of something.

“What were you doing in there?”

“I was talking with the therianthropes who were still inside. They said this is food.”

Wait, I wondered what you went in for, and you couldn’t resist bringing back food? Unbelievable.

Too dumbfounded to speak, I just blinked, and Camilla pouted and protested.

“I didn’t steal it, I received it. It was given as a token of gratitude.”

“…”

“What now!”

“…Camilla. Normal people would say they received a gift, not start by denying they stole it.”

She grabbed the cloth sack tightly, making it spin around. Camilla swung the food-filled sack with all her might, and I opened my mouth wide.

“Aaaagh-!”

“Stop joking around and listen to me!”

*

A world without ranks is not an equal world, and even a society without visible ranks is not perfectly equal for everyone.

Perfection is the ultimate illusion created by humans, so even a seemingly perfect circle isn’t perfect when examined closely.

The same goes for society.

Income, capital, health, family, education, residence, age, gender, religion, nationality. People are defined by their surroundings, and their differences are perceived not as diversity but as flaws, becoming seeds of conflict.

Sometimes these differences become points of comparison to determine superiority and inferiority. And some people who believe they are superior to others tend to never shut up in front of those they deem inferior. Similar to villains in fantasy or martial arts novels who discuss important matters in front of their servants?

The wizards of Necropolis seemed to have adopted that talkative villain image.

Despite countless ears scattered throughout the underground, they rarely knew how to be silent.

It would be inaccurate to say they lacked caution. The wizards weren’t careless.

It was simply because the beings who might overhear were inferior species incapable of using magic.

“The therianthropes seem to see and hear quite a lot.”

In an unnamed park far from the fire scene. A small gravel path where wildflowers had been carefully transplanted.

Camilla wiped the dusty stone with her cape and plopped down on the rock.

“The people I met at the guild told me various things too.”

“To you?”

“Would they have told Frederick instead?”

Her tone suggested it was obvious.

To this, I could only tilt my head with a puzzled expression.

“Why would therianthropes be so kind to a wizard who burned down their workplace, giving her food and information?”

“They were fine after I apologized and gave them some cash.”

Camilla showed me something she took out of her pocket. It was a wad of bills—several 100 tachrons folded in half.

“I brought this for bribes, but I didn’t expect to use it like this.”

Ah. I nodded as if I finally understood.

“I suppose when a wizard apologizes and offers money, they’d better accept it. It’s not every day you meet a wizard who can burn down an entire building in one go.”

“When you put it that way, it sounds like I was threatening them…”

“It’s not ‘like’ threatening—it was threatening. That’s how things work in Necropolis.”

These are exiles who enslave even fellow humans in Necropolis. If they treat their own kind as slaves when they can’t use magic, what about therianthropes? Of course, those who commit crimes should be punished accordingly, but wizards are deeply involved in the establishment and operation of Necropolis.

Unless a wizard goes berserk and destroys the city or openly kills fellow citizens, the exiles are unlikely to intervene directly. The arm bends inward, not outward.

Therianthropes vastly outnumber wizards, and their usefulness is so diverse that they’re allowed to exist. If useless beings were roaming the city, the exiles wouldn’t have tolerated it.

This is, after all, a paradise for the exiled.

Of course, even considering that Camilla was a wizard, the therianthropes had reason to show her goodwill. They had received both an apology and compensation. By my rough calculation, she had paid about 5,000 tachrons.

“I knew it. They’re bowing and scraping because you gave them 5,000 tachrons.”

“Um… is that a lot?”

“If someone with a gun destroys a makeshift building of slate and wooden boards in the interior of an African country—an unauthorized structure with no legal standing—and hands over about 2,000 dollars, do you think anyone would complain?”

This time, Camilla slapped her palm with her fist as if she understood.

“Aha! So it wasn’t even a large amount. I thought I’d been taken for a fool!”

“…You don’t think 2,000 dollars is a lot of money?”

Anyway, having silenced the therianthropes with cash, the problem was well resolved.

I listened carefully to the stories Camilla had brought back.

“So did you find out what I asked about?”

“The doctrine used by the cult group. The name was… Al-Khair, right?”

“Yes. Al-Khair. That’s the one.”

“Ash Tree Street, was it? According to therianthropes who frequent the religious district, they were extremely cautious people.”

This part was similar to Caer’s reconnaissance results when we raided Al-Khair’s house.

They had an extremely cautious disposition. Camilla listed testimonies supporting this claim one by one.

“Someone tried to greet them when their eyes met, but they ignored it, and if they had to pass nearby, they would stare until the person disappeared. There were almost no… therianthropes who had direct conversations with them. The men remained silent even when spoken to, and the women would avoid the area if they just encountered someone on the street.”

“Did you confirm the characteristics of these male and female members?”

“I don’t know their names or nationalities, but… the men and women active as Al-Khair here are estimated to be fewer than 10 but more than 6. That’s about how many different-looking people were mentioned across testimonies. One common point is that all the men were of military conscription age?”

The information Camilla collected was highly accurate. Was it her skill or did the therianthropes know a lot?

I don’t know about other things, but we should be wary of the therianthropes.

“No one reported seeing children, only testimonies about men between their 20s and 50s, so that’s probably correct. I asked some people who are friendly with neighbors in that area, and the neighbors said they’ve never seen children either.”

“How did these neighbors evaluate the Al-Khair members?”

“Almost identically. They were like ghosts. They never approached first, and if approached, they remained unresponsive and kept to themselves. Peculiar people.”

“So they were oddballs.”

“I was told it wasn’t a typical reaction. Usually, people are cautious for a few days but gradually open up and start blending into the community. These people seemed to deliberately avoid integrating into the local community.”

Rather than avoiding integration, it was more likely they were trying to avoid surveillance. Though the result wasn’t good.

Considering that the Al-Khair members were extremely cautious and minimized contact with others, Camilla judged that they must have been up to something.

“Isn’t it too strange that they had no human interaction even with different religious beliefs? How can people stay hidden in their homes all day, only going out to buy things?”

“So there was absolutely no one who had personal contact with them? I would have thought at least one or two people had private conversations.”

“Well… there was one therianthrope who had contact with a woman, though it can’t really be called a conversation.”

While pulling a cart, a woman asked if he could deliver groceries to her house.

The destination was Ash Tree Street. It was quite far, but the load wasn’t heavy, and it wasn’t difficult to carry one more woman, so the therianthrope readily agreed.

But throughout the journey to the destination, the woman kept subtly trying to proselytize.

Sighing lightly as if representing the therianthrope who unexpectedly encountered a “Do you know the Way?” situation, Camilla continued.

“Sigh… He seemed quite stressed about it. He was grumbling the whole time… he must have been really angry. He thought she was crazy and let most of it go in one ear and out the other, but he remembered just one thing from the preaching. Just one thing.”

“What was that?”

“‘Be reborn.'”

After reciting the cultist’s sermon, she tilted her head quizzically and raised a question mark.

“I wonder what they meant by ‘be reborn’… Is it a philosophical meaning?”

Isn’t philosophy too sophisticated for pseudo-religious groups? Camilla pondered the sermon content slowly before shrugging as if giving up.

“They probably just distorted some quote from a bible. Isn’t that what all heretics do? Right?”

“…”

“Frederick?”

“…I was just lost in thought for a moment.”

“Ah, I see.”

Camilla smiled sheepishly, saying she was sorry for interrupting, and I quietly lowered my gaze.

As she said, heretics and cults misinterpret religious texts to suit their purposes.

But I had an inkling of what the cultists were trying to be “reborn” as.

“…”

I quietly took out my mobile phone.

*

“…So the cultists’ goal was probably not to awaken vampires but to become vampires themselves.”

-‘Vampires? Not familiars, but actual vampires?’

“I don’t know that much myself. The people who would know are in the Inquisition, not me.”

-‘I’ll inform the Inquisition. You still have the item I gave you, right?’

“Yes, I’ve kept it safely in my bag.”

-‘Alright. Be careful, Major.’

Click.

After ending the call, I put the mobile phone down on the desk. The documents containing information about Al-Khair rustled under the phone.

“…”

I sent the testimonies and materials collected from the therianthrope guild to Veronica after sorting them. The unprocessed intelligence would go through her to the Inquisition, and ultimately end up on Raphael’s desk.

The ball had been passed to the experts in this field, but my mind was still uneasy.

Holding my heavy heart, I left the supply room and heard smacking sounds.

“Nom nom nom…”

“…”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“…No, it just looks delicious.”

Camilla, who was tasting the mountain of food, narrowed her eyes and began to glare at me.

It was like the gaze of a dragon who had discovered a thief trying to steal its treasure.

As if afraid her food might be taken away. The sight of her subtly moving plates and containers away was quite a spectacle. Unable to hide my bewilderment, I expressed my indignation.

“When did I ever ask for any?”

“…You’re lying.”

“What lie?”

“Last time you said the same thing and then threw away all my snacks. All of them.”

What ancient history are you talking about?

Of course, I understand Camilla’s position. I was the one who threw away all the snacks she had collected at the hotel, claiming they would make her fat. I didn’t just throw them away—I snuck in and stole them.

And it wasn’t the first time I’d used delicious food as bait to make her work, so it was understandable that she treated me like a thief.

Yes, I understand, but…

“Since when did you start treating me as an untrustworthy person?”

“Right from when we entered the guild.”

“I already apologized. Besides, who bought what you’re eating right now…”

“I’m grateful for that!”

Camilla answered with a bright smile.

But only for a moment. She quickly changed her expression and drew a clear line.

“But that’s that, and this is this. How many times have you tricked me?”

“…”

It was a fact.

It hurt twice as much because it was an irrefutable truth. I had broken Camilla’s trust.

This was all due to my lack of virtue, the karma I had accumulated over a year.

Gulp! After tearing into some unidentified leg roast (probably goat meat marinated in spices), Camilla put down her glass and spoke.

“Water.”

I had been a slave to Francesca due to a fraudulent contract before, and now I was serving Camilla.

With the feeling of an Indian serving a British capitalist, I poured water and then took a swig from a cheap moonshine bottle. Unlike the advertisement claiming it was “Authentic Kiyen Empire Vodka!” it was just some random mix of liquors passed off as the real thing.

Shit, now I see even the spelling is wrong. Idiots.

After taking a swig of the fake vodka, I cursed the wizards inwardly.

Damn wizards. Disgusting bourgeoisie. This is why communism was born in England.

Ah, Marx. I didn’t understand when the wind was blowing, but now I get it. I was in a greenhouse. Money is something that comes and goes. These bourgeoisie won’t understand your profound meaning even after centuries.

But come to think of it, wasn’t Marx also bourgeoisie? This guy was born with a silver spoon and never lived as a worker.

Shit! Now I see he was in on it too. Mao was right after all. The Soviet Union was just a den of revisionists without principles.

That’s why the Soviet Union collapsed. The only authentic communist country from the beginning was China.

Just as I was contemplating switching to the Red Team and celebrating the great festival of the Chinese people, the British bourgeoisie finished her meal.

“Ah- I’m full. But what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for bamboo around here.”

“…Why bamboo, out of nowhere?”

After a satisfying meal.

We went out to the street.

Camilla set out to find craft beer she had spotted on the way (which supposedly sold sausages similar to authentic German sausages), while I kept my eyes peeled for quality bamboo or a Kiyen Empire rifle similar to the Type 56.

For reference, from now on I was going to consider Soviet AKs as weapons without legitimacy and only recognize Chinese-made weapons as the original. North Koreans are a hybrid of Christianity and Confucianism, so they’re excluded.

Of course, that was nonsense.

There was nothing like that in Necropolis.

“Hey, shopkeeper! Give me a gun!”

“Um, sir? We don’t sell firearms in our shop.”

“No! Where’s my rifle! If you don’t have one, get me one right now!”

“Gyaaak…! Excuse me! My friend is intoxicated…”

“Let me go, you filthy landlord! I’ve already ordered optics from Russia, so bring me- mmph, mmph…!”

“Please just shut up and come with me!”

“…Please take care, sirs.”

*

A stupid night in a stupid town.

Maybe it’s because it’s a pseudo-Vietcong hideout dug in the desert rather than a jungle. As expected of idiots who didn’t consider concealment and cover even a mosquito’s worth, even their day-night distinction was idiotic.

Dong- Dong- As the noisy bell rang, goblins with whale oil lamps wandered the streets announcing the hour.

“10 o’clock! It’s 10 PM! Residents, please take note!”

How can such small bodies produce such loud voices? I was sleeping soundly, but now I’m wide awake.

I got up with a disheveled appearance and rubbed my face.

“Oh my head…”

After squeezing my face with my palms, I finally came to my senses. Wondering where I was, I looked around and saw it was a park.

Did I fall asleep in the park? I must have finally gone crazy. Clicking my tongue inwardly, I scratched my neck.

“Water…”

“Here.”

“Ah, cold!”

A heavy, cool sensation on the nape of my neck. The chill was so intense that I jumped up in surprise.

As I rolled onto the ground and started swimming on land, I heard chuckling. Turning my head toward the sound, I met Camilla’s gaze as she sat on the bench.

“What are you doing there?”

“What are you doing here…?”

“Waiting for you to wake up.”

She showed me a water bottle beaded with dew.

“You’ve been working a lot lately, right? You were already tired from walking around all day, and then you drank alcohol too. How could you not pass out? I couldn’t drag you to the lodging by myself, so I had no choice but to wait until you woke up.”

Moistening my throat with the water she handed me, I felt my vitality returning. Having finally regained my senses, I could assess the situation more objectively.

A bench large enough for one adult to lie down, and Camilla. Occupying the edge, she had her cape rolled up on her knees. Was that what she had been leaning on?

As I repeatedly rubbed my face dry from embarrassment accompanying my hangover, Camilla laughed softly and began to tease me.

“Were you that tired? You were sleeping like you didn’t have a care in the world.”

“Be quiet…”

“Did you have a dream or something?”

“…A dream?”

“Yes, a dream.”

She nodded and added.

“I thought you were grinding your teeth, but it turned out you were muttering.”

“What did I say…?”

“It felt like you were talking to someone. You spoke too softly for me to understand the content, but I think you mentioned the name ‘Michael.'”

“…”

“Who is Michael?”

“A friend.”

Seemingly caught on the word “friend,” Camilla tilted her head. Unable to contain her curiosity, she began asking about Michael.

“American? Or British?”

“American. He was originally with USFK.”

“Originally with the U.S. military means he’s not anymore?”

“Yes. He went to Langley.”

“Langley…? Ah, CIA.”

Everyone uses the term “company” as slang, and it’s the most widely known euphemism, but it’s not the only one for intelligence agencies.

While euphemisms vary slightly by country, the most common are place names. The name of the area where the headquarters is located. Langley, Virginia, is where the CIA headquarters is located.

“How did he end up at the CIA?”

“He was originally with an intelligence unit. FSK.”

“FSK?”

“USA FSK. US Army Field Station Korea. It’s under INSCOM (U.S. Army Intelligence and Security Command)… he served in the intelligence brigade there. Near Pyeongtaek.”

“Hmm!”

Camilla nodded as if she understood.

“I don’t understand a word of it! I only recognized INSCOM!”

“Just know that it’s a U.S. military intelligence unit in South Korea.”

“Will I get hurt if I know more…?!”

No. I just can’t be bothered to explain.

Of course, saying that wouldn’t elicit a positive response, so I brushed it off. Camilla found the topic quite interesting and kept asking questions.

“How are U.S. military intelligence units structured? After brigade comes corps?”

“After brigade comes division, not corps… Your father was in the military, wasn’t he? Don’t you know this?”

“I’m not a soldier myself. Anyway!”

“Was it a battalion or a company…? I don’t know, how am I supposed to remember that?”

“What about Korea?”

“Why do I need to tell you that?”

“Because we’re allies?”

“…”

“…Was that not funny?”

“Let’s be quiet if we know better.”

“Hiing…”

I picked up the sulking Camilla again and returned to our lodging.

Although he had entered with a cover identity, Joaquin was a long-time resident of Necropolis, so there was a possibility someone might recognize him. Therefore, Joaquin lived in a separate building, and only Camilla and I used the lodging.

It was close to midnight, and I was more than just tired, but Camilla kept pestering me endlessly.

“Have you been to CIA headquarters? NSA? FBI?”

“I went during an exchange, but why would I go to NSA… FBI maybe.”

“What about SIS?”

“I applied to the UK but got rejected. Same with other Western European countries. The competition was too fierce…”

“What’s the most memorable thing you saw at the CIA?”

“Starbucks. I envied that the most.”

“Why Starbucks of all things?”

“When you’ve only had 200 won vending machine coffee, you’ll understand.”

Like a baby bird pecking at its mother who brought food, Camilla chattered away, asking questions enthusiastically.

They say the strangest things in the world come from England. Now they’ve even created an aspiring spy. Great job, England.

Could Camilla be the vanguard sent by the British government to conquer another dimension? If she makes a big score here, she might be fine returning to the British Empire. Honestly, I don’t care whether they revert to the Empire or remain as the UK, but I would like to see Elizabeth II becoming an empress with life support systems.

“By the way, is the Queen still alive? I remember she recovered from COVID. I wonder if she’ll really live to 100.”

“Elizabeth II? She passed away a few years ago.”

“What? Then who’s the king now…”

“Charles, of course. Charles III, to be precise.”

Charles ascended to the throne? England has finally fallen.

“Farewell, England. An empire that just had more colonies than Russia.”

“…Our country hasn’t collapsed yet, you know? We’re a developed nation.”

“Free Ireland first, then talk.”

Contextless small talk continued one after another. Sometimes we bickered, sometimes we laughed. Relying on the dim magical lamps, we leaned on each other and kept talking.

“It feels nice walking together after so long. We’ve been so busy lately…”

“Things don’t look good in the no-man’s land, I take it?”

“I don’t know the overall situation, but at least the places I’ve visited were serious. The border regions were the same.”

Camilla looked up at the street lamps illuminating the darkness.

Moths circled the light, and her voice circled my ears.

“Many people can’t even turn on lights freely. They’re probably all hiding by now.”

“…Maybe not. If someone like you stepped up to escort them to a safe zone, they could turn on lights without worry.”

“Ah- I like that. A village where people can turn on lights freely. Should I try to create one?”

“How would you do that?”

“Well. Just rescue everyone I see and settle them in a safe place, I suppose?”

“Forced migration. How very British of you.”

“…”

“…I meant it’s a creative idea that only a British person could come up with.”

“Aha! That’s what you meant? I hope I didn’t misunderstand!”

Camilla jumped up and down, smiling brightly. It was a pointless conversation.

A familiar building came into view. We had reached our lodging.

I searched my pocket for the key. Camilla stretched her stiff body to momentarily ward off drowsiness, and I tried to insert the key into the lock.

“…”

“Why aren’t you opening it? Are we sleeping out-“

“Shh.”

I covered Camilla’s mouth with my hand. Her blue eyes widened.

As her eyeballs rolled around, I turned my head quietly with my finger to her lips.

“…The lock is undone.”

When I removed my hand, Camilla carefully lowered her body and clenched her fists.

A cool sensation traveled through my palm. The grip of the pistol tucked at my waist felt especially heavy today.

We carefully backed away from the entrance.

And then,

-Thud!

Heavy footsteps were heard from inside the lodging.