Ch.565Episode 20 – Who Threatened You with a Knife?

“…I understand what you’re saying.”

Siegmund opened his eyes, which had been slightly closed, and picked up a Gauloises Caporal.

“Interesting deduction. I’m impressed.”

A flame like a snake’s tongue flickered, and smoke rose from the attic chimney.

Siegmund set down the lighter neatly and took a couple of gentle drags.

“So what’s your answer?” Frederick asked.

“Correct, I suppose.”

It was a straightforward admission.

Though Frederick had a gun pressed against the back of his head, Siegmund remained incredibly calm. Almost to the point of seeming relaxed.

Frederick stared at the back of Siegmund’s head. The gun barrel was still pressed firmly against it, ready to blow his head off at any moment.

Siegmund took a deliberate bite of his Gauloises Caporal and asked through lips holding the cigarette.

“Did you find it?”

“No. Not yet.”

Frederick admitted frankly that he hadn’t found the information Siegmund had hidden.

“How could I, a first-time visitor, beat someone who’s eaten salt in the Ashtistan Republic? I figured out Escrow, Cores, and your recent use of hawala, but I just couldn’t find where you’ve hidden the information.”

“…Is that so?”

“You’re truly old-school. You never disappoint.”

A smile formed naturally on his face.

He was satisfied. Not with the content of the answer, but with the other man’s attitude.

If Siegmund had come out with an obvious lie like “I found it,” he would have been deeply disappointed in him.

“You’re honest.”

“If I challenged you head-on only to lie, wouldn’t that make me a man without balls?”

“True enough. Honestly, I didn’t expect you to know about hawala. You’re quite skilled.”

“You’ve done something unnecessary.”

“And made a fool of myself.”

Siegmund calmly admitted his mistake. He had underestimated the young man. Indeed, it hadn’t been as easy as he thought.

He took another smooth drag.

The Gauloises Caporal, which had briefly burned itself, filled his empty lungs seamlessly with ethereal smoke.

“I should have quit when Helen told me to.”

Siegmund rubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray with regretful eyes. The last remaining Gauloises Caporal spat out half-burned tobacco leaves.

Watching this, Frederick put down his gun and handed Siegmund the cigarette he had been smoking.

Returning to his seat, he placed the gun at his side, aimed it at Siegmund, and said:

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“……”

“This time, let’s talk about you, Siegmund.”

Episode 20 – Who Threatened You With a Knife

“1967. I met the talent scout when I visited my alma mater to see my university mentor. He was a senior who had graduated from the university I attended, and was completing an integrated master’s and doctoral program in management for human resource selection and management.”

Siegmund continued in a calm tone.

“I went to see my mentor, but he was already in the office. As soon as he confirmed there was a visitor, my mentor told me to wait with some tea. After chatting with my friend, who was an assistant at the time, for about 20 minutes, that senior came looking for me. He seemed to have already heard about me from my mentor. He took me to a coffee shop downtown, revealed that he was a person working for the country, and after a few tests, handed me a business card. It was a card with only a name and phone number on it.”

“Why did the talent scout show interest in you?”

“Foreign languages. I could speak Ashtistani, Fatalian, and Kiyen. I studied Ashtistani as an elective and had quite good grades. I learned Fatalian naturally while growing up there for seven years because my maternal grandfather was Fatalian, but Kiyen I studied in secondary academy, so by then I had almost forgotten it.”

“Go on.”

Frederick gestured for him to continue.

“Ashtistani was and still is an off-mainstream foreign language. When I was young, I had some worries about the future, so I was intrigued by the mention of civil service. The business card was also interesting.”

“What was the test content?”

“The talent scout checked my foreign language skills, asked some simple personal questions, and left his card. A few months later, he called me to his office, asked various questions, and wrote me a recommendation. That’s how I joined the Royal Intelligence Service.”

His first post was Fatalia, he said.

“I was assigned there thanks to my Fatalian language skills, which were no different from native speakers. The duration was about a year. Even then, Fatalia was an ally of Abas, so the identity laundering, training, and education of overseas intelligence officers all took place there. For a year, I lived as a Fatalian, going through the identification process, and in the following year, autumn of ’70, I was deployed to Shizya disguised as an employee of an Abas trading company.”

“Who did you go with?”

“Werner Heidrich, Jean Roque, Reynald Keen. We moved together under a superior named Nigel. Nigel was a veteran and old guard who had lived in Shizya since ’65. He was a founding member who had been involved in establishing the branch. He was also someone I once respected and admired.”

Frederick found the personnel record file transferred from the Royal Intelligence Service. The old information document with an impressive old leather cover had a red stamp marked “Declassified.”

“Nigel is dead. August 3, 1973. Location: Nastarang 5, near a hotel in Shizya.”

“At that time, Nigel was investigating enemy intelligence agents operating in Shizya. He was on his way to receive a list from a North Tolian general who wanted to defect to the west… but the general didn’t show up at the meeting place.”

“Why not?”

“Because they intercepted our embassy’s transmission to the home country about the general’s intention to defect. Nigel’s identity was exposed, agents from the Imperial Guard’s North Tolian branch moved in, and the general was arrested by North Tolian security.”

Siegmund, with a cigarette in his mouth, spread his ten fingers and examined the wrinkled back of his hand.

“According to a defector from the Imperial Guard later, his fingernails were completely gone. Though he was a strong man, it would have been difficult to endure torture in an old man’s body. Eventually he confessed, the information was passed on, and Nigel walked into a trap set by the Imperial Guard.”

“……”

The declassified information document described the end of the Grade 4 intelligence officer who had fallen victim to a counter-operation at that time.

Waited at the hotel for 15 minutes. After the failed meeting, reported plans to check the general’s status and prepare for a second meeting. Shot and killed while exiting through the back door by gunfire from a vehicle.

Failed to track the assassins’ vehicle, and the manager and one other person died at the scene.

The Ashtistan Palace, enraged that a gunfight had occurred in the heart of the capital, demanded explanations from the Abas Foreign Ministry and the Kiyen Foreign Affairs Ministry.

The command acknowledged that this operation had failed miserably, with the intelligence director, Grade 1 director, Grade 2 department head, and Grade 3 unit leader taking responsibility and resigning. The Royal Intelligence Service instructed heightened vigilance against counter-operations by the Imperial Guard at the institutional level.

Frederick looked up from the document.

“The day Nigel died. Reynald died too. Were you there?”

“…I was.”

Chiiik, with the blackening cigarette in his mouth, Siegmund stared into space for a while.

“It was an unlucky day. It felt ominous from the start. First a tire suddenly burst, then the newly issued service pistol was stiff. While Nigel was meeting with the general, Reynald, Jean, and I were supposed to be monitoring the surroundings… but because of the burst tire, Jean and I arrived late.”

“Did Reynald head to the scene first?”

“He was in a different car. A Peugeot that Nigel was driving.”

“According to the original plan, as soon as Nigel secured the general and got out, Reynald would have moved them to a safe house. You and Jean would have confirmed any tails at the rear.”

“……”

“Where were you and Jean when Nigel died?”

“At the scene. We had just arrived.”

Having belatedly replaced the tire with a spare, Siegmund arrived at the hotel with his colleague. They arrived at the front entrance so they couldn’t see Nigel, but they definitely heard the gunshots and radio transmissions.

“As soon as the gunshots rang out, I instinctively knew something had gone wrong. Jean pushed back his seat and started driving like he was on a racing circuit, and Reynald radioed that ‘Nigel’s been shot!’ and that he would pursue the assassination team, telling us to recover Nigel.”

Siegmund paused. His wrinkled hand stroked the back of his dry hair.

“…Nigel was covered in blood. When I turned over Nigel’s body, which had fallen forward, bullet holes that had pierced through his shirt were revealed. I instinctively thought he had been hit by a submachine gun. Because the gunshots had come in a long, continuous succession. Jean checked his pulse and breathing with trembling hands, but Nigel was already dead. He probably died instantly. Having taken more than 20 shots with his bare body.”

“Why did Reynald die?”

“While pursuing. He pursued too recklessly. The Imperial Guard agents would have anticipated that someone monitoring nearby would surely pursue if the assassination was successful. As you know, predicting risk factors is basic.”

“Reynald would have known that too. What I mean is, why would someone who knew that pursue recklessly alone?”

The hand stroking the back of his head dropped abruptly.

Siegmund put his hand on the armrest and stared at Frederick.

“What would you have done? Would you let the bastards who killed your colleague, your superior, right before your eyes escape? Just because there’s no backup?”

Frederick stared at Siegmund with an expressionless face. His voice continued calmly.

“Even seven-year-olds know that if you chase alone, you might end up surrounded. You must have known there were headhunters somewhere.”

“…You seem to have found your calling as an intelligence officer.”

Siegmund, who had spoken plainly, turned his head as if he didn’t want to retort further.

“Reynald must have known that too. He certainly did. He was the smartest among the four of us. But he wasn’t as calm as you. He pursued, pushed too hard, and drove straight to a point from which he could no longer escape.”

Siegmund didn’t try to explain how his colleague died. He seemed to know something.

Frederick asked.

“Did you see it? Reynald’s death scene.”

“……”

There was no answer.

Frederick searched through the materials kept by the Royal Intelligence Service and found a report dated September 1973. It was a month after the branch manager who was trying to meet with the general and one field agent had died in the line of duty.

A car crushed from a side impact.

The body frame intruding into the driver’s seat.

Traces of what appeared to be a reddish object and clothing fragments caught on sharply torn debris. And two holes in the passenger seat.

Synthesizing the photos, Frederick reconstructed the scene.

An intelligence officer who started pursuing recklessly.

An enemy who anticipated being followed.

A designated escape route and colleagues to shake off pursuers.

Someone who received the call and waited rushed at Reynald, rammed into the driver’s seat with the vehicle, and approached Reynald, who was bleeding with his head against the steering wheel, and put a gun to him. Then pulled the trigger.

The autopsy report explained that two bullets fired at close range passed through the occipital region and through the right eye and above the eyebrow, respectively.

The intelligence officer who had eliminated the observer would have fled in a car, and the assassination team that Reynald was pursuing would also have smoothly left the scene.

“……”

Frederick confirmed that there were two intelligence officers who testified as witnesses to Reynald’s death in the September 1973 report. Their signatures were at the bottom of the report written by the internal affairs department.

After flipping over and covering the report he was reading, Frederick continued his questions to Siegmund.

“The branch’s senior officer and one agent died. Killed by enemy intelligence agency personnel. Only you, Jean, and Werner remained in Shizya. What did headquarters say at the time?”

“Jean and I, who participated in the operation, were recalled to the home country for investigation. We hadn’t thought the embassy would be wiretapped. They probably thought information had leaked from one of us.”

It wasn’t suspicion of defection. Information doesn’t just leak through someone’s betrayal.

Information leaks from careless slips, vulnerabilities in encryption equipment, and incompletely shredded documents. The Royal Intelligence Service’s internal affairs department was trying to confirm just that.

“Jean and I were investigated for five months. Maybe four months? I’m not sure. We were in and out of internal affairs for a while.”

“During those five months, the Shizya branch was empty. No replacement workers came, and Werner worked alone.”

Frederick began asking questions about Werner.

What was Werner doing alone while Shizya’s senior officer Nigel and colleagues Siegmund, Jean, and Reynald were deployed on a mission?

He even remained in Shizya after Siegmund and Jean were sent back to their home country. Internal affairs never summoned him.

To this, Siegmund opened his mouth. His first words began with ‘he was a special man.’

“Werner was special. He had already visited Shizya several times before.”

“Experienced? Werner’s entry date into the Royal Intelligence Service is listed as one year before you joined.”

“He was from the military. A non-commissioned officer. A veteran soldier who served as a sergeant in a special forces unit. Werner was already a man who had been dispatched as an instructor for the Ashtistan Kingdom’s special forces, and after joining the Royal Intelligence Service, he worked with those he had trained to train guerrillas in the provinces. By the way, he was Nigel’s recommended personnel. The two had lived here together long ago.”

Siegmund added that Werner had been deployed to Shizya as an operations officer for the Royal Intelligence Service, and had been dispatched to the mountains for two months before Nigel and Reynald died in the line of duty.

“I remember he was in a situation where it was difficult to participate in operations. It was a time when pro-imperial guerrillas were rampant. Werner prevented the Ashtistan Kingdom from falling to the guerrillas, but he couldn’t prevent the kingdom from changing to a republic and the royal family from changing to a revolutionary government. Because the Kiyen Empire was backing them. He had a lonely and difficult time, I heard.”

Frederick was somewhat familiar with the local warlords that Werner had trained.

“The Royal Intelligence Service has long been devoted to fostering paramilitary organizations. I heard they recruited instructors from special warfare, and Werner was one of them.”

“Yes. He was just like the subordinate you have with you. Jake, was it? That friend also supported warlords on the Moritani continent.”

“Because he’s capable of it. Anyway, Werner remained in Shizya. Alone. And…”

Frederick put down the document he was reading.

“He died two weeks after you two returned from the internal affairs investigation.”

“…He had an accident. Those idiot warlords mistook each other for enemies during the night and fought among themselves, hitting Werner. Werner always had a habit of wearing his hat turned backward, and his face was so mangled by fragments that we had to identify him by his hat. Jean and I recovered his remains and buried them in his hometown.”

“The time of death was 1974. Four years before you defected.”

In those four years, everything around Siegmund changed.

Nigel and Reynald died in the line of duty, Werner died in friendly fire during an operation, Jean remained here for about a year but was transferred at his own request and soon retired. The reason was personal circumstances.

The Shizya branch, which had been three people, became two, and eventually Siegmund was left alone here.

Frederick confirmed why the Royal Intelligence Service’s Overseas Operations Office (the former name of the National Operations Bureau) couldn’t send reinforcements to the Shizya branch at that time.

Ashtistani itself was a rare foreign language, making it difficult to select intelligence officers, and eventually they brought in several diplomatic officials from the Foreign Ministry stationed in Shizya, but problems arose.

“The monarchy collapsed.”

A revolution occurred.

“Citizens who could no longer endure the tyranny of the royal family rose up. The secret police who had sworn loyalty tried to suppress it, even mobilizing force, but it was an overreach.”

“……”

“The secret police’s firing provoked the demonstrators, foreign countries turned their backs, and the special forces that Werner had trained sided with the pro-imperial guerrillas they had been suppressing.”

“……”

“The monarchy had long been walking a tightrope between Abas and Kiyen, but because of that, it was abandoned by both sides. The Abas cabinet ordered the evacuation of the embassy, and the Kiyen Imperial Court approached the military and instigated a coup, telling them to end the tyranny. Thus isolated, Shizya finally collapsed when even the king fled abroad.”

That year, when the flag of revolution fluttered at Azadi Palace.

Siegmund helped with the embassy’s evacuation and then fled.

More precisely, he was pursued after the informants planted in the Ashtistan Kingdom were discovered by the Imperial Guard.

“It started with someone who gave me imperial military secrets. At the time, I was managing some of the informants that Werner, Jean, Reynald, and Nigel had planted, but it was beyond my capabilities. I was younger than Jean, not as mature as Nigel and Werner, and not as wise as Reynald. Eventually, gaps formed in the information network, and my identity was exposed.”

“You disposed of two informants and fled. What happened to the rest?”

“At that time, Shizya was like a huge pressure cooker. A pot where discontent and anger boiled over and exploded after reaching a critical point. Many of the informants were caught up in it and died. Some by demonstrators, some by executioners.”

“Survivors?”

“I came back and recovered those who survived, but I could meet less than 30% of the informants again. After weeding out the traitors who had sided with the empire and the revolutionary government, only five remained in the end.”

“What did you do with the informants who betrayed?”

Siegmund smiled.

“What do you think I did?”

Frederick didn’t answer.

The intelligence officer who had lost everything and left Shizya returned to Shizya again. With a new sign of a republic, having gone from the bottom of the branch to the senior position, he had to rebuild everything from the ashes.

He succeeded.

By rebuilding the collapsed information network and laying the groundwork for his successors.

He dealt with those who had turned into enemies, faced those who were once allies, and ruined everything the Imperial Guard had planned here.

That’s how Siegmund became a legend in Shizya.

And in 1978, he defected.

*

The stories before and after the defection were all revealed.

But while Frederick had discovered the process by which Siegmund betrayed the Royal Intelligence Service, he hadn’t heard the reason why he decided to betray.

“1974 and 1978. There must have been quite a change of heart during those four years. The deaths of superiors and colleagues you respected, the burden of having to face enemy intelligence agencies alone in Shizya. Right after returning, you had to deal with informants, and you clashed with the Ashtistan intelligence agency, which had been an ally.”

“……”

“Is that why you decided to defect?”

Frederick asked Siegmund what reason he had for defecting.

He didn’t think an easy answer would come. Human psychology is complex, with aspects that are difficult to define by any one thing.

But contrary to Frederick’s expectation, Siegmund immediately gave an answer.

“Yes. I defected because I was disappointed.”

As Frederick nodded at Siegmund’s response, he thought: there must have been a lot of deliberation before deciding to defect and putting it into action.

Without lengthy contemplation, he couldn’t have opened his mouth without hesitation like this.

“With the country?”

Frederick asked.

Was he disappointed with the Royal Intelligence Service, with the Abas government?

Siegmund answered.

“Similar. But a bit different.”

“How is it different?”

“Frederick, you probably think I defected because of stupid welfare policies and incompetent, toilet-like clogged bureaucracy. But I never once thought I wasn’t treated well. Rather, I was happy. The past 20-odd years working for the Royal Intelligence Service were happy moments in my life.”

“……”

“What disappointed me was the duality and immorality of the intelligence service, of Abas.”

Siegmund revealed the reason for his defection like this.

The Kingdom of Abas had lost its moral high ground.

The Abas cabinet and intelligence service firmly believed they had gained the upper hand in the system competition with the Kiyen Empire, but paradoxically, moral corruption became the reason why Kiyen could surpass Abas and grasp the hegemony of the Moritani continent.

“The Kiyen Empire has been shaking the Moritani continent for decades. The Abas intelligence service firmly believes without doubt that the Imperial Guard and the Kiyen Foreign Ministry won the hearts of dictators in this land. But from what I see, that’s the result of cherry-picking only what they want to see. Aren’t all the presidents elected through democratic elections pro-imperial?”

“You must know that those elections were all conducted through fraudulent methods?”

“Of course I know. That may be the case now. But they were all elected with fervent public support by overwhelming margins, and they became dictators because they didn’t want to let go of the power they held. As you know.”

Siegmund explained that while working in Shizya, he clearly saw numerous governments turn their backs on Abas.

And that was an obvious fact, whether viewed from that time or from modern standards.

“Our diplomatic policy has failed in this land for decades. And the projection of force with strong military power only brought backlash. Remember the Ashtistan Kingdom’s special forces members and warlords that Werner fostered?”

“I remember.”

“They now occupy key positions in the Republic Army and the Law Guardian Corps.”

The revolution, which the Royal Intelligence Service had judged as the Imperial Guard’s scheme to overthrow an allied government, succeeded.

The Ashtistan Kingdom collapsed, and the revolutionary government established the Ashtistan Republic here.

The special forces members and warlords trained by the Royal Intelligence Service’s operations officer swore allegiance to the revolutionary government and now hold key positions in the Republic’s military and the Law Guardian Corps.

“In the midst of a revolution turning the whole country upside down, there would be no loyalty left. When the generals pointed their guns at the royal family, they also turned their barrels. Of course, there were those who fled, throwing away their weapons, saying they couldn’t join the rebels, and those who stayed until the end to defend Shizya, but most of them are no longer here.”

“They were executed or went into exile. I know. Several came to Abas.”

Siegmund let out an uncomfortable sigh. He shook his head with a firm expression.

“It’s true that exiles exist. But they are mostly high-ranking officials who worked in the secret police and intelligence service. Cowards who quickly destroyed evidence and fled as soon as the king escaped.”

“The lower ranks mostly fled to neighboring countries. Well, a few remained here and were incorporated into the republic’s intelligence service.”

“Most of my informants were such people. They didn’t have the position to flee with the king, nor the determination to escape the precarious capital alone. So I somehow persuaded them and promised to help them emigrate, and I asked the embassy for documents. Do you know what the ambassador said?”

He seemed to know.

Frederick closed his eyes briefly, and Siegmund spoke.

“He said he couldn’t help.”

“……”

“He said there wasn’t time to write visas because evacuation was imminent? When I asked for forms, saying I would handle it myself, he had already burned everything while destroying confidential documents. He even advised me to call the Foreign Ministry directly, saying one phone call could persuade them, but he didn’t even pretend to listen.”

“So that’s why you sought help from Fatalia.”

“Fortunately, friends in their intelligence service helped. Although I couldn’t expect much help during the chaotic period preparing for evacuation, at least they didn’t spout nonsense like ‘Shizya won’t collapse’ while secret police were being beaten to death in the streets, unlike the Royal Intelligence Service or Defense Ministry commanders.”

Thanks to that, I was able to save a few. Not all, but some.

After adding that, Siegmund snickered with a somewhat dejected expression.

“You know what’s funny? When I returned to this country, the informants I couldn’t take with me were working as republic civil servants. That Nikolai VI, who executed 10,000 of his own citizens in the early days of his rule, advised that they didn’t need to kill everyone, just get them to convert?”

“Some of the personnel in the new intelligence service and the Law Guardian Corps were people who survived that way.”

“The irony of history. The Butcher of Petrograd and those Imperial Guard guys who pulled out people’s fingernails talking about morality. How nice it would have been if they had done that earlier.”

“……”

“Even more ironic were the moments when I couldn’t refute when I heard from the informants I met again that ‘getting along with the Imperial Guard wasn’t so bad.'”

“……”

“That’s why I turned away.”

Siegmund said. He didn’t get angry or lose his temper.

Just calmly.

He was merely dredging up sentiments that had become so worn and faded that they were now hard to recall.

“Our Royal Intelligence Service failed miserably in Shizya, and the Kingdom of Abas chose an immoral path for itself.”

It became corrupt.

“We, who once criticized dictators by putting morality first, no longer had anything better than them, and we who praised ourselves as noble with that moral high ground have now fallen to the same level as the other side.”

“……”

“Can you explain?”

Siegmund asks Frederick.

The Laterano inquisitors who ask for forgiveness for their sins through Sunday prayers.

The secret police of Petrograd who call themselves the empire’s sword and shield while oppressing millions of subjects to cover up the imperial family’s shame.

What makes us better than them?

“……”

“Right. You probably can’t. Duality and indecisiveness are our specialties. That’s why I made a decision. I chose.”

Siegmund smiled.

This was probably the first time he had truly smiled.

“It was a very aesthetic choice.”

*

Silence passed between them.

The eastern sky turned faintly colored, and the sleeping city awoke. One by one, noises seeped into daily life.

Siegmund looked at Frederick, who was silent while holding the gun. He was still aiming the gun barrel but didn’t move at all.

“…So that’s what it was.”

The intelligence officer, sitting quietly, nodded slightly.

“I understand. You made a choice you judged to be right. I didn’t expect that expression to come out here, but it truly was an aesthetic choice.”

Siegmund stared intently at Frederick, who had suddenly broken the silence. As if somewhat surprised. With eyes that said he didn’t expect such words.

He continued calmly.

“You found hope in a different system. You made quite a remarkable decision.”

“……”

“By the way, I’m not being sarcastic. I truly respect your choice. To be precise, I think it’s worthy of respect.”

Frederick scratched his sideburns with his finger. It was as if this kind of philosophical debate wasn’t particularly welcome.

“Well, this is my job, so I don’t care about morality or whatever. But it seems that wasn’t the case for you, Siegmund. Philosophical, aren’t you?”

“What meaning is there in living only as others tell you to, without any consideration?”

“You made your own decision, like other double agents. Despite having a comfortable future guaranteed for yourself, you resisted a homeland you thought had gone wrong, to maintain your beliefs. From my perspective, it sounds like the whining of someone who leaked confidential information, but at least your courage is commendable. Prepared to be pointed at as a traitor for life.”

Frederick rummaged through his pocket and took something out. It was tobacco.

Siegmund, who had taken out the last remaining Gauloises Caporal, noticed that for the first time, he had taken out a different tobacco. Frederick, who had gone through more than five packs of Gauloises Caporal, lit a new cigarette.

“Ah… The topic is too philosophical, so I don’t have much to say, but anyway.”

Slipping the common Shizya tobacco between his fingers and rubbing his eyelids, he added:

“Not everyone can make such a choice. Most are cowards.”

The Imperial Guard, the Inquisition, there are rebellious individuals everywhere.

But few people switch sides like Siegmund.

“You could just pretend not to see, pretend not to know, make it to retirement, and suck on a pension, but who would give that up to rebel? You could just badmouth the company behind its back, drink yourself stupid, and pass out.”

“……”

“But you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t tolerate it.”

Frederick bit the filter with his teeth.

Leaning against the backrest and tidying his dry hair, he exuded only fatigue.

An attitude like a workplace, wanting to escape from work and return home as soon as possible. Siegmund thought this attitude was quite natural.

Perhaps it represented Frederick’s true feelings.

“As I said earlier, I have no personal feelings toward you, Siegmund. Nor toward those Imperial Guard people lurking around trying to take you.”

“Really? I heard you dislike the Imperial Guard.”

“That’s because those bastards interfere with my work. They’re all bastards I’d like to kill, but well, they’re just foreigners who would be awkward but I wouldn’t have to see if I resigned.”

“……”

“You too.”

Frederick slumped in his chair. Even while holding a gun, he was looking at his own left hand, checking if there were any hangnails beside his fingernails.

“You tried to hand over my information in exchange for your family’s safety guarantee, but failed. I don’t know what interesting thing everyone is looking for, but anyway, you’ve hidden it somewhere. The actual harm I’ve suffered is being deprived of sleep time, stuck in a gloomy room perfect for catching tuberculosis, fooling around with you instead of sleeping soundly in a hotel room, and my chances of getting lung cancer have increased by about 140%.”

“I express my sincere condolences for that part.”

“Thanks a fucking lot.”

Frederick laughed off Siegmund’s joke-like apology good-naturedly.

“Sssip.”

After exhaling the inhaled smoke, he leaned his upper body forward.

Then, finding it hard to resist drowsiness, he yawned widely, and while smoking the cigarette a couple of times, he continued speaking.

“Well… If I ask where you’ve hidden my information, you’ll probably tell me to go to hell?”

“That’s right. Because it would cause problems for me if I handed it over.”

“The retirement funds you cleaned out before defecting would be stored in a different place from my information.”

“Even if one is discovered, the information dispersed elsewhere would be safe. Don’t worry. The most important information, that is, the file about you, is in a place only I know.”

“Of course it should be. If those Imperial Guard bastards have any brains, they’ll be looking for the information you’ve hidden.”

It was a kind of treasure hunt.

A treasure hunt hosted by a double agent well-versed in Shizya’s circumstances. A quasi-battle royale where if you find it first, it’s yours, and if you make a mistake, you can hit someone’s head with a hammer and take it without any problem.

Frederick asked, exhaling smoke:

“Is that what you want? To return my information to this side and safely cross over to that side with your family taken care of.”

Siegmund, sitting askew, affirmed. He nodded.

“There’s no guarantee you won’t deceive me and take a copy when crossing over.”

“If I dared to do such a thing, you would come looking for me, furious to the point of boiling over.”

“A gentlemen’s agreement?”

“Yes, a gentlemen’s agreement.”

Siegmund demanded safety guarantees for his defection in exchange for not disclosing or leaking any confidential information about Frederick.

He said he would take other confidential information, but if necessary, he would accept replacing it with other information after review.

Frederick narrowed his eyes and muttered:

“Deception information… The Imperial Guard guys won’t leave you alone if you do that?”

“I’ll have to hide it. Of course, completely false information won’t work. They’ll verify it through cross-checking to determine its truthfulness. The basic content must be true, but sensitive core information must be disguised as plausible garbage wrapped in gold.”

“What will you receive in return? A medal? A house? A pension? Or did they say they’d give you money?”

Siegmund looked straight at Frederick, who had been looking at him askew.

“Nothing.”

He added in a firm voice:

“I never expected anything from them from the beginning. Of course, when I first defected, I demanded a large sum of money. If I had just handed over the information, I might have been suspected of being a spy.”

“……”

“I made that clear to Lisitsin, and returned all the money I had received. Instead, I asked them to prevent my identity from being exposed to potential double agents of the Royal Intelligence Service by not following me or taking pictures.”

“So that’s what you were hiding for 16 years? Ah, this is a method I haven’t seen in a while, those SIS folks…”

Frederick rolled his tongue in his mouth and smiled.

SIS, Livingston, a country starting with ‘F’. Siegmund found the meaningless words that he occasionally blurted out quite suspicious, but he didn’t try to think about it deeply.

He crossed his legs and leaned on the armrest.

“The Imperial Guard paid me after relations almost broke down due to Kowalski’s madness. Former Imperial Guard Chief Semyon Yudinchev and Oleg Yelichich discussed for days and then transferred money to me.”

“Why? Were they so anxious that you might leave that they couldn’t sleep?”

“I heard that was the case, but the truth is unknown. Ilya Kutuzov might know the truth. He was Yelichich’s beloved spotter.”

“What a touching story. Those bastards, they purge each other normally, but at times like this, they’re overflowing with affection.”

Though Frederick grumbled, he didn’t add anything more.

He approached the entrance as soon as Siegmund told him the location. As expected, there seemed to have been an intelligence officer recording the conversation from the next room.

Siegmund felt somewhat familiar with the Royal Intelligence Service employee talking with Frederick, but he couldn’t recall who that employee with the bushy beard was. He just assumed they had probably crossed paths at headquarters.

“…Ugh.”

Frederick sat down with a strangely old man-like grunt.

Like a pot-bellied uncle in a bar, he draped one arm over the backrest and addressed Siegmund.

“I’ve sent people to the hiding place you mentioned. You probably didn’t tell everything, but we can find the rest later.”

“I need to have some insurance, don’t I? I can’t just hand everything over and risk some harsh treatment. I’ll give half for now. The rest we’ll discuss after confirming my family’s safety and release.”

“Of course. It would be too convenient if everything was resolved at once. You need that kind of guts to earn a salary in this field. Yeah…”

Frederick pursed his lips as if to say that saying more would be nagging.

“But I’m curious about something.”

“What would you like to know?”

“How did you find out about Canicula Holdings, the Law Guardian Corps’ money-laundering channel, and Wali Al-Dadun, whom they support? Even though you’re influential in Shizya, as a unit leader, you couldn’t have come here to manage informants.”

There was nothing more to hide now.

Siegmund frankly revealed the truth as if it were nothing.

“Hawala is originally used for cross-border remittances. For sending living expenses to relatives living in distant foreign countries and such. There are several in Abas too. Places run by immigrants.”

“During your business trip to the Rushan Federal Kingdom on November 30, 1985?”

“Well, if you’ve found out that much, I have nothing more to say.”

I’ve lost. Siegmund showed his hands in that sense.

“There are jewelers near the western port of the Rushan Federation, and that place is one of the Law Guardian Corps’ money laundering channels. The store I visited during the November 30 business trip was also there.”

“The hawala brokers took a commission, and the funds were transferred to Ashtistan…”

“Strictly speaking, my informants within the Guardian Corps. I’ve also similarly remitted to informants in the police, republic army, and other public and security agencies many times. By the way, the hawala I recently used in Shizya… that is, the funds you discovered were money given to a police officer on a northern business trip.”

“You wouldn’t have reported it to the Royal Intelligence Service.”

Siegmund nodded, shaking his head.

“Only I know about the existence of those informants. There was a need to protect them as they helped extract confidential information from within the Law Guardian Corps, such as Canicula Holdings and Wali Al-Dadun, but basically, they are my friends. Unlike other informants I’ve reported to the Royal Intelligence Service.”

“……”

A smile formed on Frederick’s lips as he listened quietly.

He didn’t think it was strange. As he knew, people sometimes do incomprehensible things when they’re tired. When too exhausted and weary, even Siegmund would sometimes smile helplessly for no reason.

But the other person was different.

After trying to hold back his laughter with a chuckle, he suddenly started twisting his body like a madman and laughing hysterically.

The intelligence officer laughing loudly from dawn was even somewhat creepy. He just kept laughing like a madman for a while.

“…Khup. Kum. Ah. Just a moment. Whew- Ah, I thought I was going to die. What a crazy bastard.”

Frederick wiped away tears and spewed incomprehensible curses.

It was unclear who he was talking to, but Siegmund found it quite unpleasant.

It was when he was frowning while holding the Gauloises Caporal and raising his head.

“Hey, Siegmund.”

Frederick called his name.

As Siegmund, unable to hide his displeased expression, silently looked at the other person, suddenly incomprehensible questions began to fly.

“That holding company or foreign currency earning paper company, and the hawala brokers who launder money. Who runs them? The Guardian Corps’ accounting department?”

“That’s right. The official name is the Law Guardian Corps Administrative Bureau’s Finance and Accounting Department. Externally, it oversees the payment of salaries, retirement funds, and pensions needed for the retirement of Guardian Corps members, but internally, it’s involved in overseas money games.”

“…Then who do those money-handling friends report to when there’s business status or profit? There must be a place where the money ultimately goes.”

Siegmund raised an eyebrow once and nodded slightly. As if to say, that goes without saying.

“At the level of ordinary generals, they definitely can’t do it alone. It needs to be condoned from above. And you know who that is.”

Frederick leaned his upper body forward.

“Name them.”

Siegmund looked into his brown eyes.

“Dariush Ismaelzahi. Commander of the Law Guardian Corps and the second-in-command of the Ashtistan Republic.”

*

Knock knock.

As a neat knock sounds twice, a large, heavy door slides open.

The man in a neatly arranged uniform checks his clothes again in front, dismisses his subordinates around him, and carefully enters.

A chamber made in the traditional Ashtistan way, with everything traditional.

The man who entered bowed respectfully to the woman who had turned her head toward the dawn window.

“High Priestess. You called for me?”

“……”

The High Priestess of Al-Yabd just nodded slightly without saying anything. The man who had bowed deeply raised his upper body and began speaking in a careful voice.

“I arrived as you urgently sought me.”

“Yes. I did.”

The High Priestess muttered.

“Did you get some sleep? I left word for you to come when you woke up. I didn’t want to wake you unnecessarily.”

The man affirmed with a gentle smile. As if to say he had slept well, so there was nothing to worry about.

The High Priestess raised her head toward where the man was standing, and then began with a gentle smile.

“Commander Dariush Ismaelzahi.”

Zeinab Eskandar spoke to the man before her.

To this, Dariush Ismaelzahiri, the Law Guardian Corps Commander, responded by placing his hand near his heart.

“You’ve worked hard. You’ve been in that position for a long time since the revolution.”

“Not at all. I’m just doing my best in this position as always.”

“How is Mariam? I feel like I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s always living in peace. Very healthy.”

“I have a request for you. Will you listen?”

The commander bowed his head deeply as if to say, please speak.

And the High Priestess’s voice continued over his head.

“Soon, Shizya will become noisy. But there’s nothing you can do. So go home now and rest well.”

Don’t worry about anything, from now on, forever.