Ch.562Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?

Sigmund smoked a cigarette while looking out of Banya’s window.

The clean scent of colorless, odorless steam had long been replaced by a musty smell.

The sauna was filled with a hazy gas—whether cigarette smoke or steam was unclear—and the irritating combination of loneliness and stuffiness lingered deep in his airways.

It was a stench that Helen absolutely detested, but with his patience having hit rock bottom long ago, he felt he couldn’t endure without smoking.

…Phew.

After exhaling smoke mixed with a sigh, Sigmund muttered like an angry man.

“What’s the point of this?”

High concentration, rock-solid patience, and honest confidence are the virtues of an intelligence officer.

That was the advice an instructor who once taught him had left for his disciples.

Thanks to having this advice deeply ingrained in his bones, Sigmund had overcome numerous crises since his days as a field agent. When informants were discovered, when enemies came to the front door, when the gun barrel of someone he trusted as a friend was pressed against his head.

Sigmund had vowed never to forget his instructor’s advice as he survived several brushes with death.

But right now, that patience was being put to the test.

The Royal Intelligence Bureau, which considered indecisiveness and duplicity as virtues, never failed to betray expectations, as always.

They had requested a meeting but hadn’t shown their faces even after a full 30 minutes.

At first, Sigmund had speculated that they might be cautiously monitoring from nearby, conscious of surveillance or tailing.

But the contact person who failed to appear even after 30 minutes only proved the Royal Intelligence Bureau’s lack of decisiveness.

“Huh…”

You have the guts to kidnap a mother and daughter in the middle of an enemy country, but not the courage to meet me in a banya at an Imperial hotel?

Sigmund snorted and puffed on his cigarette a couple of times.

He wanted to call and give them a piece of his mind, asking “What kind of game are you playing?” but he decided to squeeze out his last bit of patience and wait just once more.

After sweating it out and clearing his mind with cold water. While carefully checking if anyone was secretly observing his movements and Room 3.

And a little while later.

-Riiiiing!

A call came in.

Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife

When the internal phone in Room 3 rang loudly, Sigmund had just stepped out to the public pool to cool off.

“The banya is quite hot. I used to be able to endure it for hours. I must be getting old.”

“Time is something even merchants can’t overcome. Isn’t that right, Mr. Yevgeny?”

Sigmund, with his lower body submerged in ice-cold water, asked the man as if seeking agreement. The white man called Yevgeny nodded repeatedly, saying it was absolutely true.

As his name suggested, the man was a citizen of the Kiyen Empire.

Generally, in Kiyen culture, it was polite to address someone with both their name and patronymic (ending in -vich or -nova), but the man had only revealed his name, Yevgeny.

There was nothing strange about this. As Sigmund knew, Kiyenians often introduced themselves only by their first names in places where formality wasn’t necessary.

Needless to say, there was no need for formality in a spa where everyone walked around naked in swimwear.

“Mmm-“

Yevgeny, a middle-aged Kiyenian, let out an exclamation as soon as he took a sip of vodka from his glass.

“This tastes good. Nothing beats drinking after a good sweat.”

“They sell alcohol here? I thought it was prohibited.”

“In Ashtistan, alcohol is only sold in hotels. The laws don’t apply to foreigners. You can buy it at the bar downstairs if you show your passport.”

“Ah. I didn’t know that. But it seems it’s not just foreigners who can purchase it?”

When Sigmund glanced pointedly, the middle-aged man’s gaze followed.

Near the public pool of Mandala Spa, quite a few Ashtistanis had gathered. They were young people who exuded wealth at first glance.

They were speaking Kiyen with quite skillful pronunciation, but Sigmund, accustomed to native accents, easily noticed that this was an “Ashtistani Kiyen accent.”

The native speaker was, of course, aware as well.

“Hehe.”

Yevgeny laughed awkwardly as if embarrassed and stroked his neck, which had turned red from the heat of the sauna and alcohol.

“There’s no law saying Ashtistanis can’t enjoy alcohol, is there?”

“A fair point.”

“Go to the underground casino. You’ll see how many locals are there.”

Sigmund let out a small, fake laugh to match the Kiyen man’s laughter.

Sigmund knew why the local youth were pretending to be Kiyenians with their ridiculous foreign language while indulging in alcohol here.

Foreign hotels were lawless zones exempt from the Republic’s prohibition laws, and money didn’t discriminate by nationality once it went into the bartender’s pocket.

In other words, they had bribed the bartender to secretly buy alcohol and were enjoying their own private party here.

Of course, this was illegal.

If this fact were discovered by the Law Enforcement Corps’ guidance patrol officers, the young people would spend the night in a detention cell.

They would be crammed into a small, unhygienic cell with over 30 people, rubbing against each other; pretty women would be sexually harassed by officials, and men who carried themselves with confidence would have their heads cracked open with batons.

It was predictable. That’s mostly what the Ashtistan Republic’s Law Enforcement Corps’ guidance patrol did to citizens taken to detention cells.

But these young people wouldn’t experience such an unpleasant night.

More precisely, the guidance patrol wouldn’t arrest them regardless of whether they were blowing horns or doing drugs.

After all, how could a mere guidance patrol officer mistreat people who could exchange foreign currency equivalent to six months’ salary of an Ashtistan Republic worker for a bottle of vodka?

Even if they were caught, they would be out of the detention cell in minutes, and if they handed over just a third of the alcohol’s price, the guidance patrol would even ensure their safe return home.

Sigmund himself had once escaped from a detention cell in Shizya with a bribe of less than 700 shillings. And that was after being caught infiltrating a military facility.

“Good times.”

Sigmund shook his head while looking at the young revelers with a smile.

There was a reason why he was acting like someone visiting this place for the first time, despite having spent years as a field agent in both the Kingdom and Republic of Ashtistan.

Officially, this was the first time that “Dreiman,” the identity Sigmund was currently using, had come to Ashtistan. This meant he had to act like a foreigner on his first visit.

Of course, the Dreiman identity had somewhat lost its value once the Royal Intelligence Bureau noticed his existence, but the groups Sigmund needed to deceive included not only the Abas Kingdom but also the security agencies of the Ashtistan Republic.

If the people of Shizya discovered his entry, there was a high possibility that another pursuer would be attached.

While escaping Ashtistan would be no problem if he asked the Imperial Guard for help, if he left, his family, who had fallen into the hands of the Royal Intelligence Bureau, would be lost to him forever.

That was precisely why Sigmund was putting on this pathetic act.

“My wife loves vodka, so this is fortunate.”

While waiting for the Royal Intelligence Bureau’s contact and passing the time, Sigmund was fortunately not the type to hesitate approaching strangers.

Moreover, it wasn’t in Sigmund’s nature to waste precious time doing nothing.

Over the past 30 minutes, he had checked every potential risk in Mandala Spa. Whether anyone was monitoring him from a spot overlooking Room 3 and the entire spa, whether anyone was frequently going in and out for communication, and so on.

The middle-aged Kiyen man named Yevgeny was one of the people Sigmund had approached during this process, and he seemed the “least” suspicious person in Mandala Spa.

“Your wife likes vodka?”

“Yes. By the way, in the Empire, are women who enjoy drinking considered promiscuous?”

“No! Of course not. Everyone dislikes those who drown in alcohol, but vodka is something everyone enjoys. My wife does too.”

“Does she like beer as well?”

“That’s a beverage. Not alcohol.”

Yevgeny, who had been enjoying the banya alone with a bottle of alcohol tucked under his arm, turned out to be a mathematician who taught at a prestigious university.

The university where he worked was also his alma mater, and Sigmund had heard of it several times during his time at the Petrograd branch.

“What do you do, Mr. Dreiman?”

“I work for a company. To put it nicely, I’m a salaryman, or self-deprecatingly, a wage earner. Our company mainly does consulting work.”

“Oh. That’s a very interesting profession. I’ve only done research all my life, so I don’t know much about businesses. That’s why I always find it fascinating to hear about them.”

“What’s interesting about getting a salary? What brings you to Shizya, Mr. Yevgeny?”

He explained that a conference for various academic professionals was being held in Ashtistan, and he was planning to attend.

Sigmund reconfirmed that Yevgeny was a safe individual, that is, a civilian with no connection to intelligence agencies. Incidentally, he also learned that Yevgeny had recently become a regular at Mandala Spa.

If Yevgeny was familiar with the spa’s circumstances, he might have a rough idea of why the Royal Intelligence Bureau chose this place for a meeting.

Perhaps because foreigners frequently visit, intelligence officers wouldn’t be suspicious, or maybe there was something special about this spa that others didn’t have.

The small pieces of information he casually dropped would eventually form a puzzle that would lead to the bigger picture.

He needed to build rapport first.

Through his brief conversation with Yevgeny, Sigmund began extracting information such as the middle-aged Kiyenian’s occupation, hometown, family relationships, interests, and preferences.

He was indeed a drinker who enjoyed vodka in the banya, and he was a family man with a wife and son.

Sigmund thought he might be able to form a bond over the common topic of family, but contrary to appearances, Yevgeny didn’t seem to be a husband who particularly loved his wife.

When Sigmund brought up topics like “home” or “wife,” Yevgeny would vaguely trail off, giving the impression that he didn’t want to continue on that subject.

He changed the topic.

This time, it was alcohol.

When he slightly brought up the topic of alcohol, Yevgeny’s attitude noticeably began to change.

Like someone who couldn’t afford to smoke but found a half-finished pack of cigarettes in their coat, Yevgeny wrinkled his reddened nose and passionately recited a hymn of praise for alcohol.

Sigmund found a few more “unsuspicious individuals” besides the alcoholic mathematician. An elderly couple who were enjoying imperial bread while massaging their backs with sticks woven from grass were among them.

The elderly couple, who appeared to be well into their 70s, introduced themselves as scholars and researchers in academia, like Yevgeny.

The husband, who would have been around the same age as Sigmund’s father if he were alive, was a researcher in astrophysics, and his wife was a lecturer in astrology.

From this interesting background of a “magician-scientist couple,” Sigmund couldn’t help but ask:

“You’re a magician, but your husband is a scientist? I’m curious how you two met.”

“This fellow was late and tried to climb over the academy fence with a broom, then fell right on top of my head. I was on the disciplinary committee. That was our first meeting.”

“Well, I wasn’t late.”

“Oh, come on. You saw the gate was locked and climbed over it.”

“They closed it 2 minutes early. They could clearly see me coming.”

“Then you should have gotten up earlier. Or stayed in the dormitory.”

The elderly couple, who had stopped by the banya to relax after their journey, recognized Yevgeny as someone from their hometown at a glance. Conversely, Yevgeny also recognized the elderly couple.

They seemed to be quite famous intellectuals. Perhaps people like Sigmund might be interested in them.

Coincidentally, the elderly couple was also planning to attend the conference in Ashtistan. The very same event that Yevgeny had mentioned.

An astrologer, an astrophysicist, and a mathematician.

Sigmund instinctively realized that the event they were planning to attend was related to space or aviation. Officially, the three were scheduled to attend a science-magic exchange event, but at a glance, the fields they all studied were connected to aerodynamics.

Was the Law Enforcement Corps recruiting researchers from various countries to replace the Oqāb they lost to Abas?

Or had they been attempting to develop a new weapons system for a long time, unrelated to recent events?

Whatever the reason, it was a good sign that Yevgeny’s attention was now focused on the newly arrived elderly couple.

Even if Sigmund carefully left, Yevgeny would naturally forget who Sigmund was and who he had conversed with today, as his attention was diverted to the elderly couple.

“……”

Having moved away, Sigmund quickly compiled the information he had gathered from his conversations with Yevgeny and the elderly couple.

First, Mandala Spa is accessible even to non-guests. There’s a difference in cost, but one doesn’t necessarily have to stay at the hotel like Sigmund to visit.

Yevgeny also initially stayed at a different hotel before recently moving here.

This means there’s a high possibility that outsiders can come and go without raising suspicion.

Second, the main clientele of Mandala Spa is foreigners. It targets foreigners staying in the Ashtistan Republic.

Officially, the spa, bar, casino, and other facilities operating in this hotel are all exclusively for foreigners. However, in reality, locals frequently visit as well.

This phenomenon occurred because the managers who should check passports and restrict locals’ entry were corrupt. It might be called an Imperial hotel, but most of the employees were locals hired here.

In all likelihood, it was probably one of the hotel staff who leaked information about the room Sigmund was staying in.

In other words, intelligence officers could freely come and go from this hotel if they wanted to.

And third.

‘Mr. Yevgeny. Since you visit here often, I was wondering if there’s anything special about Mandala Spa that other spas don’t have?’

‘There are many. Unlike other hotel spas, drinking is allowed here.’

‘Hmm… Any other peculiarities?’

‘Something special. Ah, now that I think about it, there is. The bulletin board over there.’

‘Bulletin board?’

‘You know, like the ones they used to have in cafes and such? Where young people would leave notes saying let’s meet here and there, or return the book you borrowed the other day. It was a kind of letter used in the days when not everyone had mobile phones and crystal balls were too expensive for just anyone to carry. Sometimes people would even leave love letters there, saying contact me if you’re interested.’

‘……’

‘Young man, did you meet women that way? It sounds like personal experience.’

‘Uh… Professor. This isn’t about me. I absolutely never did that, so please don’t tell my wife.’

Sigmund, wearing an appropriate robe, moved to the place mentioned by Yevgeny and the elderly couple.

It was a small space located in one corner of the spa. There, he found a board that was neither too large nor too small.

The board was filled with numerous notes, as many visitors had come and gone, and Sigmund spotted one that looked extremely ordinary.

《Menbashi Square 8-11, Shizya, Shizya Province. 35° 42′ 7″ N / 51° 26′ 42″ E. 0043.》

The note, secured with a green thumbtack, pointed to a specific location in Shizya. A subway station named after a great revolutionary leader. The directive was to be there by 00:43.

Having spent over a decade in Ashtistan, Sigmund realized this was a note left by the Royal Intelligence Bureau. He also knew it was just before the last subway of the day passed through the station.

“…Is this the plan, or a change?”

Sigmund pondered. Why had the Royal Intelligence Bureau, which had called him to the spa, changed the location?

Perhaps they had never chosen Mandala Spa as the meeting place in the first place. They might have first called him here, then, like he had done, just checked if the Imperial Guard was tailing him from outside the spa before leaving.

Or maybe the plan had changed.

If the Royal Intelligence Bureau had initially chosen the spa as the meeting place and only now changed the location, there could only be one reason.

Someone was following.

Someone I haven’t even noticed.

“……”

Sigmund instinctively thought that the “two customers, male and female” mentioned by the desk clerk might be trackers.

If the Royal Intelligence Bureau had been monitoring Mandala Spa until just before the meeting, they would have been aware of guests who made last-minute reservations.

What if those guests had raised the suspicion of the Royal Intelligence Bureau?

A suspicious pair appearing at the meeting place where they were supposed to meet a double agent who had betrayed them. As the head of counter-intelligence and an intelligence officer, Sigmund knew that “pairs” or “trios” were the basic minimum team units for surveillance activities.

…Just my luck.

Returning to Room 3, Sigmund first contacted the desk clerk.

He needed to check who these guests were who had made urgent reservations, and where they were if they had arrived.

“This is Dreiman.”

-‘Ah, sir! Perfect timing. I was just about to call you back.’

From the voice on the other end, Sigmund immediately sensed that something was wrong.

“Call me ‘back’?” Could it be that a call came while I was away?

Damn it.

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Sigmund rubbed his dry face and quickly asked the clerk:

“I was calling to check if my friend had arrived. Haha. I stepped out for a moment, and it seems they arrived in the meantime?”

Please say no.

Unless the other person had just arrived while they were on the phone. If they had already reached the changing room area without knowing how much time had passed, it would be difficult to leave without encountering them.

-‘Yes. They just arrived.’

“Good. How many minutes ago?”

-‘Let’s see… About 1 minute? Less than 2 minutes, I think…’

Sigmund quickly wrapped up the conversation and began moving outside the spa.

With that amount of time, he could hide somewhere and sneak out.

Leaving behind the drunken Yevgeny, the oddly matched elderly couple, and the youth immersed in drinking and dancing, Sigmund hurried to the entrance.

Timing himself while mentally mapping out an escape route, he grabbed the handle when—

-Click!

Someone on the other side opened the door and entered the spa.

*

There’s a common saying in the intelligence community.

The first meeting is coincidence, the second is an accident, the third is surveillance.

The fact that everyone monitors each other and can be monitored at any time is something many intelligence officers agree on. This truth, transcending nationality and era, is shared by all intelligence officers from the Cold War to the modern day.

Sigmund was one of them.

Although he hadn’t experienced the Cold War when the Iron Curtain divided Europe, he had spent decades in this field as an employee of the Royal Intelligence Bureau.

He had become accustomed to being monitored by watchers following him from behind, and conversely, to counter-surveillance by colleagues who spotted watchers from tall buildings.

And after living such a life for a few years, one naturally realized one thing:

There’s no such thing as coincidence in this world.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The moment his eyes met the woman who had opened the spa door and entered, Sigmund felt his patience not just hitting rock bottom but drilling through the basement.

He glared murderously at the Imperial Guard officer, the watcher who had appeared before him.

“Why are you here? Don’t you know you shouldn’t be here?”

“I’m just here for a sauna.”

The Imperial Guard officer was unfazed by Sigmund’s glare. Despite the atmosphere being tense enough for someone’s neck to be twisted at any moment, she continued speaking nonchalantly.

“It’s not strange for a Kiyen person to visit a banya. Even a foreigner.”

“Do I look like I’m talking about role-playing? I’m emphasizing that I’m in a position where I shouldn’t be in contact with you people!”

Sigmund raised his voice slightly, just enough for the other person to hear clearly, even if others couldn’t.

He wasn’t wrong. If an intelligence officer met with an agent from a hostile intelligence agency, anyone would suspect the possibility of a double agent. Especially if the location was a foreign country.

However, the Imperial Guard officer merely chided Sigmund as if she had heard something absurd.

“That would be the case if your identity hadn’t been exposed. From the moment William was arrested by the Royal Intelligence Bureau, you were as good as half-exposed. You knew that, which is why you left for Shizya, isn’t it?”

“…That’s true. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for you and me to make contact here, in Shizya.”

“Relax. I’m just here to enjoy the sauna. Just like you were leisurely sweating it out.”

“And you chose Mandala, where I am?”

“It’s an Imperial hotel. Even if a civil servant is abroad, should they let tax money flow elsewhere?”

“……”

“I decide when and where I’ll be. Not you. And…”

The Imperial Guard officer, stepping closer to Sigmund, added:

“Since we’ve run into each other, we should pass by like guests. Why are you wasting time by striking up a conversation? What business would two foreigners who’ve never met have?”

Imperial Guard 1st Department Section Chief, Yekaterina, concluded with a glare at Sigmund.

Sigmund glared back at her.

In the midst of this, after taking a deep breath, Sigmund lowered his voice significantly.

“You were trying to come in, and I was trying to go out. Since we’ve awkwardly run into each other, let’s just apologize as if it was a mistake. Others won’t find it strange.”

“Fine.”

The two apologized to each other as if they had just had a comical mishap at a door. They slightly bowed and smiled awkwardly.

To an uninformed observer, it might have seemed like they had bumped shoulders.

“I apologize, ma’am. I was in a hurry to leave and made a mistake.”

“No, sir. I should be the one apologizing. Your clothes seem to have gotten dirty. Would you like them to be laundered?”

“Laundry” was one of the safety signals established by the Imperial Guard. It meant “there’s a problem, and I need help.”

Sigmund immediately shook his head.

“It’s fine. Nothing’s dirty.”

I don’t need help. Sigmund clearly said so.

The exact meaning was closer to “The Imperial Guard has nothing to help with, so disappear from my sight,” but Yekaterina merely smiled and offered an apology that wasn’t really an apology.

“Let me treat you to a cup of tea after you finish at the spa. I feel so sorry.”

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t decline.”

“……”

Yekaterina smiled and suggested a tea appointment.

She was proposing a meeting.

“Don’t decline” was a signal indicating that if he refused the meeting, the Imperial Guard would not help him. Of course, it could be an overinterpretation stemming from stress, or the Guard might just want to discuss his defection again, but…

Words are interpreted as one understands them, aren’t they?

Both speaking and understanding are done by people. And Sigmund was a man who had dealt with people all his life.

“…If that’s the case. Alright, let’s do that.”

After hearing his answer, Yekaterina passed by Sigmund and entered deeper into the spa.

Sigmund noticed that a group of men had entered the spa after she came in, but he couldn’t identify which of them was part of the Imperial Guard pair.

The young men who had rushed in were all similar-looking locals, and they moved in groups of two or three. Some groups were chatting enthusiastically, while others just walked briskly without even exchanging words.

If an Imperial Guard officer with desert nomad blood was mixed among them, even Sigmund would have difficulty spotting them.

Moreover, it would seem strange if he, who was about to leave just moments ago, suddenly started observing the men.

“…This has gotten complicated.”

Muttering briefly, Sigmund quickly left the spa and had a cup of water.

The damn usage time still had 50 minutes left.

*

-Splash, splash.

The sound of water being stepped on continued with each step. A woman with black hair flowing down her white nape entered the room.

The banya, with its warm heat swirling around, exuded a pleasantly good atmosphere. A strangely pleasant steam tickled the skin.

Yekaterina entered the room she had reserved and settled in. She closed her eyes and seemed to enter a meditation-like state.

Creak, when she opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening, an Imperial man who looked similar to a native of the Mauritanian continent stood before her. He was in the process of entering the room, naturally surveying his surroundings.

“Domovoi just left. He’ll probably be back soon.”

Kirill, the Imperial Guard 1st Department’s foreign language translation specialist, informed Yekaterina of Sigmund’s status.

The two Imperial Guard officers visiting Mandala Spa looked no different from other users. They were in swimwear with simple snacks and large towels to cover their lower bodies.

At a glance, they appeared to be nothing more than ordinary tourists.

Of course, they weren’t here for leisure but for work.

“Thanks for stalling earlier. I was terrified when I thought I’d run into Domovoi.”

“I didn’t stall. He did. How did he manage to enter so naturally without getting caught?”

“A bunch of locals rushed in. Did you see those men who just came in? I snuck in behind them.”

Kirill smiled, pointing to the group of local men who had just passed by Sigmund. They were the men who had been moving in scattered groups.

If he had been an ordinary Imperial citizen, he would have stood out among the brown-skinned individuals, but Kirill was an Ashtistani-Kiyen, or a mixed-race individual.

His background played a significant role in his selection for this mission. The Imperial Guard knew that different skin colors would stand out, so the administrators strongly recommended Kirill, who was of Ashtistani mixed heritage and fluent in the local language, to assist Yekaterina.

Yekaterina glanced at the group he pointed to and blurted out:

“They’ve been staring at the back of my head since earlier.”

“More like slightly below the back of your head, I think.”

“Since when did you have a habit of peeping at people’s backsides?”

“I don’t.”

Kirill shook his head vigorously in denial.

“I just developed it.”

“You weirdo…”

“Wear it more often. It suits you.”

Yekaterina couldn’t help but laugh at her colleague’s nonsense about wearing swimwear more often. She agreed with the rumor among colleagues that Kirill might not be interested in women, though perhaps they were wrong.

While Kirill momentarily died of embarrassment at the rumors circulating among colleagues, Yekaterina continued in a calm tone:

“Has Domovoi been in the banya for about 30 minutes? 40 minutes?”

Yekaterina asked.

She inquired if any suspicious individuals had come and gone.

“There was a contact.”

Kirill replied that “there was a foreigner who entered the annex and left after 30 minutes.” He also added that “Giorgi’s informants are marking him.”

“The 6th Department support officer has deployed his people to tail him. The rest are monitoring around this hotel.”

“Tell them to let us know if anything comes up. There’s plenty of money for the informants’ expenses, so don’t hold back.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

“By the way, what about Shandor? Any results from the telecommunications company?”

Kirill nodded affirmatively.

“We’ve recruited the head of the state telecommunications company. Whether it’s cloning or wiretapping, they’ll do whatever they can if Domovoi uses a mobile phone. The same goes for the phones of other suspects.”

“They agreed more easily than I expected. I thought they’d resist a few times.”

“Shandor and the 6th Department did background checks in advance. We agreed to give them what they wanted.”

“Let’s focus just on Domovoi for now. Like we’re doing now.”

Yekaterina and Kirill were currently in a situation where they were monitoring Sigmund, who was using Mandala Spa.

It wouldn’t have been a problem for Shandor, the 6th Department’s communications support officer, or Giorgi, the intelligence support officer, to infiltrate the spa, but if their faces were exposed to Sigmund, their movements would clearly be restricted. That’s why Yekaterina had entered the spa instead of the two support officers.

The 1st Department investigator looked at the entrance with narrowed eyes.

“What was Domovoi doing here? Coming to a spa all alone.”

According to the records, Sigmund had always enjoyed banyas.

As a double agent, he often met with Imperial Guard administrators in Kiyen-style saunas. Like Mandala Spa, he used saunas with a high proportion of foreign guests as his main bases.

Kirill looked at Yekaterina’s profile and said:

“Maybe he was trying to meet someone? Since he worked in Shizya, he must have many informants. And he’s also looking for a gift that the higher-ups would appreciate.”

Though we don’t know exactly what that is.

“Or maybe he came to relieve stress. You know, people from the 2nd Department also relieve stress in their own ways sometimes. Since Domovoi was in charge of overseas operations, maybe he wanted to relax in a banya.”

“It sounds a bit suspicious to me…”

Yekaterina immediately expressed doubt.

His double identity was exposed, and his family disappeared. And then he suddenly goes to a sauna to relieve stress? Isn’t that too strange?

However, Kirill argued that it was precisely for this reason that he might have come.

“I don’t think it’s strange. Think about it. His activities as a spy have been discovered, his wife is upset and has disappeared with the kids, and he doesn’t know who might be after him next. With stress about to make his head explode, wouldn’t he want to take a breather?”

“…Hmm.”

It wasn’t an incorrect argument. Kirill’s claim had its own basis.

Yekaterina thought about the report on Sigmund’s psychological state that she would write upon returning, and simultaneously asked Kirill a question:

“Did the counter-espionage department check on Abas’s movements? I heard they intercepted communications from consulates in Mauritania.”

“Yeah. It’s clean. Nothing came up.”

“Nothing suspicious came up… huh.”

“It’s so~ clean that it’s actually suspicious.”

He’s a double agent. And not just any agent, but a high-ranking intelligence officer, a head of counter-intelligence who was supposed to act as a shield.

In a normal situation, by now, confidential communications should have been frantically flying to the embassy. Whether anyone knows Sigmund’s location, whether anyone has met or talked to him recently, and so on.

But the Royal Intelligence Bureau was silent.

Yekaterina muttered to herself with her arms crossed:

“…The other contacts besides William have gone silent.”

Originally, the contact person designated by the Imperial Guard for Sigmund wasn’t William, who was captured this time. Long before William betrayed Abas, Sigmund had been working for the Imperial Guard.

The Guard had assigned him numerous contacts, and currently, most of them had gone silent.

There was no reason to contact the severed contacts again since the employment relationship had been terminated. They were merely errand boys who collected and delivered the confidential documents Sigmund left behind.

Both officially and unofficially, they were all foreigners unrelated to the Empire. And that’s exactly how it had to be.

But right after William’s arrest, when administrators tried to reactivate the dormant network to check the status of the contacts, the expected responses didn’t come back at all.

The superiors are considering the possibility that all the contacts have been arrested or executed.

That’s a nice way of putting it.

At this point, Yekaterina thought it was almost a certainty.

“But they’re not sending down any directives? The Royal Intelligence Bureau? Something’s off.”

“I think so too, Yekaterina. The higher-ups are thinking the same.”

A possibility was raised.

Yekaterina suggested that Sigmund’s suspicious behavior just now, the Royal Intelligence Bureau’s silence, and the disappearance of his associates might all be connected. She proposed the possibility that Sigmund might have defected again for some reason.

Kirill concurred that it wasn’t entirely impossible but emphasized that they shouldn’t suspect Sigmund until they found concrete evidence.

More precisely:

“It’s good to be cautious. But, Yekaterina, if Sigmund finds out we’re suspecting him, then who knows what might happen?”

“That’s true.”

“Let’s be careful. I’m saying, at least in front of him, let’s not show any signs.”

The two decided to closely monitor Sigmund’s movements while at Mandala Spa.

That was their intention for coming here anyway.

Kirill said, “Domovoi will probably be back soon, so I’ll head out,” and left the room. By the way, the 6th Department support officers were supposed to inform them of what Sigmund did outside. Specifically, Shandor and Giorgi, who were monitoring from outside the spa.

It would have been fine to leave the room right away, but Yekaterina stalled a bit. To ensure that other users wouldn’t know that she and Kirill had been in the same space, she waited a sufficient amount of time before heading to the common area.

“Phew.”

As she exited the banya, the cool air refreshed her heated skin. Was it because she had just beaten her body all over with a venik made of birch twigs? Her skin seemed a bit smoother, and her face was as red as an apple.

Yekaterina entered the public pool to release the remaining heat. Kirill was surveying the surroundings while pretending to eat food purchased from the spa.

“Who told you to drink alcohol while on duty?”

Yekaterina lightly reprimanded her colleague as she passed by after getting in and out of the pool.

Regardless, Kirill began to casually bring a beer to his lips while looking in a different direction from his colleague.

“It’s gotten lukewarm. It was definitely an ice cube when I bought it. Damn, what kind of beer is this…”

“Water, please.”

“Buy it with your own money. Or drink from the pool.”

Yekaterina thought as she shook a water bottle filled with ice. To be honest, it wasn’t bad.

It would have been much better if there was snow or the sea instead of a pool, but this was a desert where even oases were rare, so it couldn’t be helped.

-Creak.

Just as she was preparing to return to the banya after immersing herself in the cool water, someone opened the door and entered the spa.

Kirill, who had glanced at the entrance, muttered as he lowered his gaze. It’s Domovoi, he said.

Yekaterina confirmed through the clock on the wall that not much time had passed. If Shandor and Giorgi from the 6th Department had monitored what Sigmund had been doing outside without missing anything, the situation would be perfect.

“May I borrow a light?”

Sigmund approached Kirill, who was about to move in the opposite direction, and spoke to him. In flawless Ashtistani.

Kirill didn’t try to acknowledge Sigmund’s presence before him. He simply took out his lighter and handed it over without any conversation.

Taking the lighter, Sigmund lit his cigarette. The cigarette, held between his lips, emitted smoke and breath.

“Are you alone?”

Sigmund asked while inhaling the rising smoke.

In a split second, Kirill judged that he might be suspicious of him. So instead of affirming, he gave a negative response.

“I came with a group. Friends.”

The investigator glanced at the group he had secretly blended in with earlier. The group that had been gathered in small clusters was now spread throughout the spa.

The seasoned intelligence officer followed that gaze to examine the group members, then handed the lighter back.

He needed to leave naturally. Since he had been about to get up from his seat just before, the investigator left the scene without hesitation.

In the place where the investigator had left, there was a chair with a half-drunk beer, an ashtray without a speck of ash, and food crumbs. It was a seat reserved as if he would return someday, but the intelligence officer didn’t care about that.

Sigmund took Kirill’s vacated chair.

“I went out for some fresh air, but it was quite embarrassing to feel the back of my head burning.”

Yekaterina, who was neither too close nor too far away, quietly spoke up.

“Think of it as protection.”

Sigmund would already know that they had attached a tail. Even if he hadn’t noticed the tail.

Yekaterina chose to admit it straightforwardly rather than deny it. If he had really gone out to check for watchers, he would immediately know it was a lie if she denied it, and even if he failed to identify the watchers today, he would definitely discover them someday.

Shandor and Giorgi couldn’t have been detected. They weren’t physically tailing him but monitoring him from a distance.

If they had been detected, it would have been Giorgi’s errand boys loitering outside the hotel who made the mistake, not the 6th Department staff.

In that case, it was better to admit it and show sincerity.

“Is it too much to have thugs or cops as bodyguards?”

Sigmund grumbled something that could have been a complaint or sarcasm. Yekaterina responded nonchalantly:

“They’re former police officers from the monarchy era. There are also former military and intelligence agency personnel.”

“I can tell that the guys loitering at the front road and back entrance are ex-cops. Their movements are exactly like those of secret police.”

The cigarette flickered once, and smoke seeped between his lips.

“Maybe it’s because the kingdom fell and they became unemployed. They seem quite rusty in their skills. I wonder if they can handle the intelligence bureau.”

“At least they’re not just filling numbers.”

Through the flickering smoke, the intelligence officer’s eyes followed Yekaterina.

“…Use them as shields if necessary?”

The investigator shrugged and naturally glanced at Sigmund.

“Wasn’t that your intention?”

The intelligence officer didn’t answer. He maintained his silence.

The investigator didn’t ask. She too kept her silence.

There was nothing to add.

Both had found their own answers.

“I’ll call if I need you.”

“As you wish.”

The cigarette was stuck in the empty ashtray. Sigmund, having found the right timing to end the conversation, got up without hesitation.

Chatting with a woman young enough to be his niece didn’t suit his taste, and it could even appear suspicious.

Yekaterina didn’t even glance at Sigmund as he headed for Room 3. Her gaze moved in the opposite direction, towards Kirill, who was monitoring Sigmund.

Kirill placed his hand on his right shoulder and rotated his neck and arm widely. Exactly two rotations.

It was a signal indicating that Sigmund, who had gone out, hadn’t made contact with anyone.

-Splash.

Yekaterina, leaving the pool, naturally moved to her room. Sigmund also moved towards Room 3 without unnecessarily going outside.

-Bang!

When a woman suddenly flung open the door as if she was going to break it, along with a man who appeared to be her companion, raising their voices, everyone’s attention immediately turned to them.

Naturally, the attention of the three people who were most wary of intruders was also focused on them.

Kirill, sensing something familiar about the red-haired woman who was shouting loudly, looked at his colleague with an expression that seemed to ask, “Could it be…?”

Yekaterina was staring at the entrance with a visibly bewildered expression.

And Sigmund doubted his eyes.

“Oh my goodness! Why are you opening the door so loudly?!”

“Huh…? I was trying to open it gently.”

“Gently my ass. You’re really smashing the hotel door like you’re demolishing the Indochina Peninsula, just to prove you’re a citizen of the Great British Empire.”

“Why is India being mentioned here?!”

“The white man’s burden. Bear it gracefully.”

“That’s America!”

“The fact that America is Britain’s illegitimate child and the result of not using a condom is a truth recorded in the Mesa Stele, the Code of Hammurabi, and the Watermelon Map, all of which are stored as stolen goods in the Louvre Museum.”

“That’s complete nonsense!”

No.

Why is that person here?