Ch.539Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?
by fnovelpia
There’s an old saying that if you’re going to be a servant, be one in a nobleman’s house.
I truly love this saying. And I deeply relate to it.
Wouldn’t it be much better to work as a servant in Nolbu’s house with its abundant storerooms than in the desperately poor Heungbu’s home? Of course, that only applies if you were born to be a servant in the first place.
Anyway, servants should work in a nobleman’s house.
The same goes for spying. If you want to live as a spy, you must go to a developed country.
Why?
“Money.”
If you try to make a living as a spy in an underdeveloped country, you end up in situations like this.
Episode 20 – Who Threatened You With a Knife?
It was a day with nothing special about it.
The day I was dragged to Ashtistan after being captured by the Grand Duchess. Though I clearly stated I was being taken to an enemy country, the agency merely spouted nonsense about treating it as a short exotic trip, and there was sparse news from my scattered companions.
Thankfully, the High Priest I encountered on the train had promised to send word as soon as he reached Lucia.
I nearly had my soul leave my body trying to contact my companions right before departure.
Still, the journey itself was… uneventful.
Though things were awkward with the Grand Duchess, Camilla was there between us. Any journey with her (though it was actually an overseas assignment rather than a trip) wouldn’t be boring.
Of course, contrary to what the Military Intelligence Agency claimed, it wouldn’t be an “exotic trip” either.
Perhaps that’s why.
Even in the moment that suddenly arrived, I couldn’t find anything special.
“Security Committee. Please show your passport.”
The identification thrust before me proved that he was an investigative agent currently working for the “Republic Security Committee,” commonly known as the “Ashtistan Security Committee,” the country’s counterintelligence and investigative agency.
As in any country, counterintelligence agencies are objects of fear. This tendency intensifies the heavier the atmosphere gets.
Like Venezuela’s SEBIN (Servicio Bolivariano de Inteligencia Nacional, the Bolivarian National Intelligence Service).
A place where, if you get caught up with them, you’re lucky to come out merely disabled, let alone imprisoned. An organization that’s strict with foreigners but downright tyrannical with its own citizens.
In Ashtistan, the Security Committee had such an image.
For reference, they were counterintelligence in name only; in reality, they were practically a paramilitary organization. That’s why they were often called the “Security Force.”
The problem was that despite being called military or counterintelligence, they were closer to a power institution that tortured innocent people. It was so bad that foreign media had nicknamed the Republic Security Committee and other counterintelligence agencies in this land “Fingernail Processing Factories.”
“Passport? Just a moment…”
Of course, none of this applied to me.
A counterintelligence agency from a theocratic state that routinely tortured people, a government hostile to Abas.
None of these things stirred any emotion in me.
I had simply entered Shizya as the Grand Duchess’s companion. In short, I had nothing to fear.
“Hmm…”
But what I hadn’t expected was:
“There’s a problem with your passport.”
“A problem? If it’s the entry stamp, it should be in the visa section.”
“Yes, I can see it. But it seems there was an oversight at the office, something’s missing.”
The Security Committee official who had suddenly demanded my passport blurted out something unexpected.
He claimed there had been some error in the entry process.
“…Oh, really?”
I wasn’t surprised.
I had anticipated being nitpicked at some point, so I understood that “they’re making up excuses now.”
I looked at my passport, which had passed into the Security official’s hands and supposedly had issues. Then I tilted my head in confusion.
“That can’t be right. There were no problems at the immigration office.”
“You are a citizen of the Kingdom of Abas. According to regulations, certain foreigners arriving in Ashtistan must complete an education course before entry is permitted. Did you receive any education immediately after arrival?”
“No.”
There hadn’t even been any guidance. And this completely contradicted what I’d been told by the Foreign Ministry.
According to the ‘Republic Immigration Control Act,’ foreign nationals wishing to enter Ashtistan are only permitted entry after receiving a simple education.
It’s nothing grand—just a 70-minute lecture covering things like which side of the road to drive on and what behaviors to avoid at the Al-Yabd Temple.
However, this requirement is waived for those with special reasons, including official business (especially those invited by the Ashtistan government).
For reference, the reason I came here was because of an official invitation. Invitations were delivered to the Grand Duchess and everyone scheduled to accompany her, and I was one of those people.
And originally, this education was something you did before getting a visa, not at the immigration office.
“I came here by invitation. Here’s the invitation letter from the Ashtistan government, please check it.”
I showed them the invitation letter bearing the government’s emblem, but the Security Committee officials barely glanced at it.
When I saw their indifferent eyes skimming through the document, an ominous feeling crept over me that something dirty might happen.
And that feeling was exactly right.
“Come with us.”
After giving the invitation letter a cursory look, the Security Committee official tried to take me somewhere.
My answer was, without question, “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Why should I follow you?”
“We have matters to investigate.”
What nonsense.
What investigation? It’s obvious they’re just trying to frame an innocent person.
“Do you have a warrant?”
“It would be in your best interest to comply. If you refuse to come with us, we can arrest you.”
The warning carried the nuance that he would take out handcuffs right now if necessary.
“Well, well…”
I pushed my hair back and met the gaze of the Security Committee employee who was glaring at me fiercely. I was so dumbfounded and flabbergasted that I could barely speak.
The guides who had been standing nearby had long since retreated a good distance away, apparently startled by the Security Committee identification.
Having confirmed this, the Security Committee official slowly approached me and took action.
-Swish…
A hand that rolled up one end of his jacket naturally moved toward his waist.
A Persian-style shirt with the collar removed, leaving the neck area smooth. As the jacket was lifted, revealing the shape of the shirt underneath, a familiar silhouette began to assert its presence between the armpits.
A gun handle. The Security Committee official deliberately revealed the gun holstered at his side.
As if to say he might use it if I didn’t comply.
“……”
While my calm gaze scanned the intelligence officer before me, my brain analyzed the situation faster than ever.
Why are they doing this? What’s their scheme?
Could information have leaked somehow?
Or is it a bluff? That might be it.
Unless Military Intelligence’s security had been breached, this country’s counterintelligence agency had no grounds to suspect me except for my affiliation with the Abas Ministry of Defense.
If that was the case, I could push back a bit harder without issue. After all, Abas government held the upper hand in all areas, whether in foreign affairs or intelligence.
Moreover, the Ashtistan government couldn’t hold me accountable for refusing an investigation without a warrant.
Having sketched out that much, I made my decision.
Good. I have plenty of excuses, so first I need to figure out what these guys are up to.
I calmly collected myself and waited for the next line. It was time to see how the Security Committee official would approach this and what they truly wanted.
“Money.”
A short, concise syllable.
The moment that tiny word struck my eardrum, my brain, which had been buzzing with all sorts of thoughts, turned completely blank.
I doubted my ears for a moment, but I had heard correctly. The Ashtistan Republic Security Committee official looked me straight in the eye, then signaled with a nod of his head.
Staring at him, I could only clasp my face with both palms.
“…Oh, please.”
Damn it.
In all my life, this is the first time I’ve been threatened for a bribe.
*
It was a shitty situation.
Really shitty.
“Huh…”
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
A feeling like a curse or a sigh rose from deep in my stomach to my throat.
How on earth did it come to this?
“So… this is the kind of ‘investigation’ you want from me?”
I kept doubting whether I had understood the situation correctly.
So I asked again, but their answer remained consistent.
The Security Committee official nodded, and I barely managed to suppress the stream of curses that rose to my throat.
“We have the authority to arrest foreigners. That means we can detain you right now.”
I was speechless. I had nothing to say.
Was it because I knew they had strong authority? No, that wasn’t it.
The authority to arrest foreigners is something other intelligence agencies have too. The Imperial Guard had it, the Inquisition had it, and Zambia’s counterintelligence agency had it too.
It was just this shameless demand for a bribe,
this absurd, idiotic situation,
that left me speechless.
“That’s not all the authority we have. But what matters to you is just one fact: that you can be arrested.”
The counterintelligence officer who demanded a bribe maintained a consistently confident attitude.
It was a tone that revealed considerable self-assurance. But I wasn’t interested in the idiotic things he was spouting.
My only concern was:
Are these guys acting independently, or did they arrive on orders?
If Ashtistan’s counterintelligence agency suspected me for some reason, they might be testing my reaction by making unreasonable demands backed by authority.
Intelligence agencies in authoritarian or dictatorial states often used such tactics.
If this was part of such a procedure, I would need to act like an “ordinary civil servant” in front of them.
But if it was independent action? Then I didn’t need to act at all.
Their interest would be solely focused on money.
They wouldn’t care whether I was a military intelligence officer, a defense attaché, or a civilian who came along with a friend.
“……”
First, I needed to understand what their intentions were in approaching me.
I began by analyzing all the elements and circumstances surrounding me.
First, the timing.
The Security Committee approached when Camilla and Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrova were absent, when I was with the guides.
Whether they needed information or money, separating me from the Grand Duchess would have been their priority.
So there were two possibilities:
First, they had been watching me somewhere and approached secretly.
Second, the request for Camilla and the Grand Duchess to wear Russari was part of their scheme.
Next, the guides.
The Security Committee officials threatened me in the presence of guides. They tried to take me away under the pretext of an investigation, but when that failed, they immediately invoked their authority.
If they had prepared enough to arrange for Russari, this part seemed a bit awkward. They could have arranged a plausible procedure to have the guides take me to another location.
If their goal was a bribe, there was no reason to worry about the guides. From the moment the name of the Security Committee was mentioned, they were too frightened to even think of intervening.
Finally, their attitude.
In authoritarian or dictatorial states, counterintelligence agencies can conduct somewhat illegal investigative activities.
When I was deployed overseas, MSS (Ministry of State Security, China) or FSB (Federal Security Service, Russia) intelligence officers would tap phones and follow people without warrants just because they were “suspicious foreigners.”
They even put cameras in a Japanese foreign journalist’s hotel room, and similar levels of surveillance occurred when I infiltrated as a businessman or tourist, abandoning my official identity.
Middle East? South America? Southeast Asia? Not as bad as MSS and FSB, but still not easy.
From two-person surveillance teams roaming around my lodgings on 250cc Suzuki off-road bikes to investigators who tortured innocent civilians thinking they were my informants.
But not once, not any intelligence agency,
had ever threatened me so blatantly by showing a gun.
At least not that I knew of.
And decisively:
“…It would be beneficial to hurry. For both you and us. There’s no reason for either of us to be embarrassed, is there?”
How could someone who showed me a gun be fidgeting like a puppy that needs to pee?
If this were a legitimate investigation, they’d have no reason to be nervous. In fact, intelligence officers acting on orders would have no reason to do this kind of thing in the first place.
They would have used surveillance or wiretapping rather than making such blatant threats, which only advertised “Hey, you’re being watched.”
In other words,
these bastards were truly idiots burning with the desire to receive bribes.
*
“…Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped me.
I’d occasionally heard stories about counterintelligence agencies in developing and underdeveloped countries taking bribes, both at the intelligence service and military intelligence agency.
But I never dreamed I’d be the one experiencing it.
“You can’t even tell shit from piss, yet your pride reaches the sky…”
No sooner had I spat out this explicit mockery than the Security Committee official’s face contorted.
“What did you just say?”
I blurted out with an indifferent expression.
“You flash your badge and talk about regulations and laws, and expect someone to just open their wallet? You need to know your limits.”
What kind of drugs did they take to have such a terrible idea? It was a thought process I simply couldn’t comprehend.
His face turned bright red. The Security Committee official colored not just his cheeks but his forehead, chin, and even the crown of his head red.
Unfortunately, due to his baldness and thick beard, he resembled an octopus.
“You-“
The takoyaki tried to express his anger with a pointing gesture.
Of course, my tongue was faster.
“If you’re going to be a parasite taking bribes, you should at least have some discernment. How dare you hold your head high when you don’t even know your place? Huh?”
My voice grew louder. It was outrageous, and above all, there were ears listening.
Thanks to that, I didn’t need to be cautious. Of course, I would have made a scene even if no one was listening.
“Shut your mouth…”
“No. And if you showed a gun, you should at least take it out. I don’t understand why you carry something so heavy if you can’t even draw it because you’re worried about others watching.”
I was saying that it was obvious they were acting independently.
My evidence was just circumstantial conjecture, but that was already enough. The guys who had been wagging their mouths as if they were about to pour out a barrage of curses had gone silent.
Seeing that, I was certain. These guys were really here to get a bribe from me.
“What’s all this commotion?”
A chilling voice suddenly broke the silence.
The idiot from the Security Committee, who had been shoving his mouth reeking of shisha or tobacco in my face, checked the direction of the voice.
Then he hastily adjusted his attire with the hand that had been on his waist, and bowed his head respectfully, placing his hand near his chest.
“Grand Duchess.”
Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrova accepted the greeting with a slight nod.
She had returned at some point and appeared with the Russari wrapped around her head.
Considering that the Grand Duchess, unlike the nobles of the Empire, did not enjoy wearing hats and had never worn anything in public, seeing Alexandra Petrova with her head covered by a scarf was truly a sight to behold.
Alexandra Petrova looked at the Security Committee employees with her hands in her pockets.
“Who are you? I don’t believe I’ve seen your faces before.”
“We’re from the Ashtistan Republic Security Committee.”
“Security Committee?”
Security Committee, Security Committee. She mulled over that name for a while.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she let out a small exclamation.
“…Ah. ‘Labdari.’ I remember seeing you a few times in Petrograd.”
Labdari. Nahr e Labzadi. A street in Shizya. It’s in the old downtown area, surrounded by historical sites and traditional markets.
That’s where the Security Committee headquarters was located.
“You saw us…?”
“I heard it was a mutual visit. The usually quiet area near the Imperial Guard was unusually noisy, and I was concerned a major incident had occurred. But I was told officials from the Security Committee were visiting the Imperial Guard. It’s been two and a half years already.”
“Ah, thank you for remembering. As it happens, I was there too.”
The Security Committee official quickly attempted to establish rapport. It was dick-docking.
Of course, I couldn’t tell whether this idiot was truly a high-ranking official who could attend such exchanges, or if he was just lying and wringing his hands.
In my opinion, the latter seemed more likely.
She nodded at the Security Committee’s thanks as if it were nothing. Then she suddenly murmured in a dry voice.
“Does Labdari have business with my disciple’s colleague?”
She didn’t seem particularly interested in hearing the circumstances, despite asking out of curiosity. More accurately, she seemed like she didn’t want to hear anything at all right now.
It was a signal to disappear from her sight immediately.
“……”
Whether they understood her meaning or not, the Security Committee officials didn’t utter a word.
With expressions like they’d eaten something bitter, they just lowered their heads like quails.
“If not, you may go now.”
“Grand Duchess. About that…”
The Archmage’s words cut him off.
“You must be busy with official duties, and cannot afford to waste time here.”
Her face wore a gentle smile and her tone was infinitely generous.
But her eyes were not at all friendly.
The Grand Duchess, who had playfully asked a question with a smiling mouth, seemed quite displeased. Especially judging by how the guides accompanying her were all shrinking back.
Camilla, standing behind the Grand Duchess, began moving her lips at an angle invisible to others.
‘Ear. Ear.’
From Camilla, who was tapping her ear with her finger while moving her lips, I could understand why the Grand Duchess was displeased.
She certainly has sharp ears.
Of course, I had deliberately spoken loudly for her to hear.
“Must I say it twice?”
The Grand Duchess looked at the hesitating Security Committee officials. Her tone remained generous, but her eyes did not.
She withdrew her gaze from those who were pondering how to resolve this situation.
Then, after taking a deep breath, she lamented in a low voice.
“Even though I came on personal business and have been estranged, she is still my only remaining friend. To express the resentment of not showing her face for 13 years in this way… tsk.”
Though the subject was omitted, everyone knew who Alexandra Petrova was criticizing.
After all, the Archmage’s only colleague could only be the leader of Ashtistan, the High Priest.
Of course, tactless people exist everywhere.
“If you haven’t seen each other’s faces for 13 years, can you still call that a friendship…?”
When her disciple’s quiet mutter broke the silence,
veins popped up on the master’s forehead.
*
That day, the Ashtistan government officials and jurists gathered in front of the palace heard a strange noise.
Its exact nature was never clearly identified, but…
A renowned jurist who later gave an interview to a foreign journalist testified that “it was like a scream you might hear in a slaughterhouse.”
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