Ch.73Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

# Operation Objective: Identify the mastermind behind the sorcerer spy who infiltrated the Advanced Military Magic Research Institute while posing as Giada Bianchi.

We suspect the Tower of Magic is behind this.

## Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

A dimly lit hotel room. I pace around with a communication device pressed to my ear. The only light comes from the soft blue glow of a secure terminal.

Sitting on a chair, I ask the operations officer:

“I heard you’ve secured an office.”

-“Yes, we set one up with help from the delegation.”

The unofficial operatives deployed for this mission are posing as a corporate market research team. Originally, we planned to pose as an aid organization or NGO to facilitate long-term stays and travel across multiple regions, but…

-“If you stay more than 30 days, you need to register your identity within 14 days. All your fingerprints and facial data would be preserved by the Tower of Magic, which is obviously not an option.”

“Haha…”

To avoid foreign resident registration requirements, one must enter the country for diplomatic, defense, or industrial purposes. That’s why some of us, including myself, are posing as diplomatic mission staff, while others are posing as businesspeople conducting market feasibility studies.

I examined the various materials the team leader sent through the secure line.

“You haven’t started operations yet, have you?”

-“We’re still in the preparation phase. We’ve rented one sedan and one van. Currently conducting surveillance with the sedan. The van will be deployed as soon as the equipment is installed.”

They’re tailing Fabio Verati, he says. Right now, they’re conducting visual surveillance, but once the interception equipment is ready, they’ll also tap his communications. Then we’ll know who’s involved in the research institute’s information leak and who sent the spy. And as a bonus, we might discover the real Giada Bianchi’s location.

With team members whose combined military experience easily exceeds a hundred years, they’ll handle it well. I nodded with a smile.

“I understand. Let’s meet for a situation report later. Could you set a time and place?”

-“Of course. I’ll contact you once all scattered personnel are assembled.”

“Great. I need to go for a briefing now.”

-“Ah, yes. Good work.”

Click.

*

To be honest, I know nothing about the Tower of Magic.

That is, except for what appears in the game.

I was never a gaming enthusiast, nor was I particularly skilled at games. Above all, I never lived a life leisurely enough to invest time in gaming.

Perhaps it’s just my personality. I was the type who would skim through community guides and muddle through, or if things got too difficult, play with YouTube tutorials running in the background. If my academy classmate hadn’t strongly recommended it, I might never have given this game a second glance.

Most importantly, I never finished the game. So I don’t properly know the story that’s about to unfold.

However, I’m not completely ignorant about the Tower of Magic.

In my 28 years of life, I’ve picked up bits and pieces here and there, and some of my Military Intelligence colleagues have been dispatched to the Tower of Magic before, so I have a general sense of what kind of place it is. If I had to compare it to somewhere on Earth, Hong Kong would be appropriate.

An Eldorado where all the continent’s talent and gold gather.

A city of prophets leading civilization through the fusion of magic and technology.

A dreamlike city where cultures from the cold northern winds to the scorching southern breezes blend together.

A mysterious city imbued with the wisdom of great mages that defies explanation even by modern magic and science. When you see the massive tower cutting across the rising sun beyond the vast horizon, reverence for magic wells up spontaneously.

Listening to my Military Intelligence colleague praise the Tower of Magic until his lips went dry reminded me of an old classmate who returned from a Hong Kong business trip with stars in his eyes. At the time, I thought he was just talking nonsense, momentarily intoxicated by the atmosphere of his workplace, but seeing it with my own eyes, I realized he wasn’t wrong at all.

A city of civilization boasting brilliant night scenery.

A dreamlike atmosphere created by the fusion of diverse cultures.

As a thriving international financial center and gateway connecting the north, central, and southern regions, the Tower of Magic certainly had similarities to Hong Kong.

Even the fact that it was a hotbed of intense espionage was similar—I’m not sure if this was coincidence or the game developers’ intention.

“……”

Of course, what mattered now wasn’t my impressions of the Tower of Magic.

A massive screen covered an entire wall. As the beam projector cast magical light onto it, a presentation appeared floating in the air. After I took my seat and gestured, an analyst with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms took the microphone.

“Beginning the briefing.”

Pippin’s crisp voice, carried through the magical device, commanded the audience’s attention.

“The Tower of Magic is a nation located in the southern imperial city of Nastasiya. It was founded in 1903 following the ‘Liberation War’ that began in 1892, which was sparked by opposition to the religious order’s ‘Alhambra Decree’ of 1889 that first acknowledged the existence of mages while classifying them as heretics.”

The first part was a brief introduction to the Tower of Magic—basic information.

As the screen changed, information about the Tower’s politics, society, economy, culture, defense, diplomacy, geography, population, racial distribution, transportation, and environment appeared. Just a glance was enough to make my head spin. There was too much information.

But given the situation, I maintained my focus. Pippin continued the briefing.

“The current political system of the Tower of Magic is officially a ‘democratic republic.’ However, in practice, it takes the form of an ‘oligarchy’ ruled by nine Oracles. The governing body, the Oracle, consists of three members elected from each of the three parliamentary parties, who take turns serving as the Tower’s leader in a single-term system.”

Three symbols appeared on the screen.

Elemental Magic, Sorcery, and Astrology.

The large symbols dominating the center represented the three parliamentary parties that move the Tower of Magic.

This revealed the Tower’s unique political culture where people united not by ideology or philosophy like parties in other countries, but by magical schools.

Clustered below like afterthoughts were the non-parliamentary parties—the minority schools within the Tower.

Pippin continued his presentation.

“The Tower of Magic faced a major crisis due to the recent economic sanctions. However, since the Tower itself is a center of logistics and finance…”

“In the early stages of the crisis, they prohibited foreign investors from selling stocks and used sovereign wealth funds to purchase shares as a defensive measure…”

Though devastated by economic sanctions, they somehow prevented the stock market from collapsing by shutting down the market and buying up shares.

“Many nations maintain close diplomatic relations with the Tower of Magic, including the Republic of Fatalia, which has allied with the Tower since the Liberation War; Abas, which shares a sense of solidarity as a democratic nation; and the Lushan Federal Kingdom, which, despite being an absolute monarchy, implements a presidential system…”

Although the Tower isn’t a perfect democratic republic, it maintains close diplomatic ties with countries that view the religious order and the empire unfavorably, including the Republic of Fatalia, its revolutionary comrade.

Due to the influx of people from across the continent, the culture takes an appropriately blended form, but paradoxically, discrimination and hatred arise from the clash of these diverse cultures.

While there is no regular army, irregular forces such as militia, volunteer corps, and PMCs actively cooperate in maintaining public order with the Tower government’s permission.

So despite various races gathering and causing problems, occasional incidents by deranged mages, and some smuggling and drug issues, public order is relatively well maintained.

Additionally, magical engineering has created excellent transportation facilities and amenities, but there are serious environmental degradation issues both inside and outside the Tower due to illegal dumping of experimental waste in defiance of government regulations, and so on.

The lengthy briefing finally concluded after 1 hour and 51 minutes.

“…This concludes the briefing on basic information. Next—”

“Let’s stop here for today. We’ll cover the rest later when everyone gathers for the situation report.”

“Ah, yes, Section Chief.”

As Pippin put down the microphone, an analyst in work uniform turned off the projector. The analysts clustered in the office (Pippin’s colleagues and junior analysts she brought) organized her briefing, and Jake distributed the summarized report to each handler through the secure line.

Meanwhile, I leaned back in my chair and pondered.

“…Hmm.”

It’s a mess.

*

Every operation is affected by external factors.

No need to overthink it.

If the area has good security, dirty work like assassination, kidnapping, threats, confinement, and torture becomes difficult, so it takes longer to achieve objectives. Conversely, the worse the security, the sooner you can achieve your goals using all manner of creative methods—that’s the gist of it.

In that sense, this operation seemed like it would require quite a long time. At least, that’s how it looked to me.

Setting aside the irregular forces cooperating with the Tower of Magic, they have fairly competent police and counterintelligence agencies standing firm. Moreover, our first target, “Fabio Verati,” is a civil servant. Torture is out of the question, and even kidnapping would be difficult. A missing person report would trigger immediate tracking.

“…How much information did you get on Fabio Verati?”

“We’ve identified his workplace, residence, movements, and personal relationships. But…”

Jake trailed off mid-sentence.

“It’s okay. Go on.”

“His past activities are… too obscure. Since he’s a Fatalian national, we sent inquiries to the Ministry of Justice and Foreign Affairs first, but they have no information. Neither does headquarters.”

No information from the Ministry of Justice means he’s never entered Abas before.

No information from the Foreign Affairs—well, that could happen.

Military Intelligence? If Fabio Verati didn’t serve in the Fatalian military, naturally they wouldn’t have information.

I nodded calmly and asked Jake:

“Hmm… What about competitors or partners?”

“The Royal Intelligence Service refused our information-sharing request, and our partners haven’t responded to our inquiries.”

“Ah—these bastards are being difficult again.”

Our so-called allies won’t share information, and the Royal Intelligence Service, supposedly on our side, is throwing a tantrum because we didn’t share cake with them.

No information.

What can we do? We’ll have to start from scratch.

This operation has become a race against time. I can’t even begin to estimate how much time and budget information gathering will consume.

How nice it would be to have friends like the CIA or DIA at times like this.

As I sigh deeply in frustration, a woman in a white coat approaches me.

“…Why are you sighing so much? Are you feeling unwell?”

It’s Lucia.

She stood in the hotel corridor wearing a white coat rather than the pristine priestly robes adults wear. Clothes make the man, as they say—in her white coat, she looked like a doctor rather than a clergy member. If she had a stethoscope around her neck, no one would question her being a physician.

While Jake tactfully excused himself at the sudden appearance of the saint, I engaged Lucia to draw her attention.

“Have you changed professions? Why are you wearing clothes that doctors wear?”

“A Tower official said it would be difficult to provide security if I walked around in priestly robes…”

“…Ah.”

“So I borrowed this.”

Come to think of it, this is the Tower of Magic. Walking around in priestly or nun’s robes here could easily get you lynched.

Red-accented priestly robes are especially problematic, as they resemble what inquisitors used to wear. Every so often, news breaks of radical mage groups beating priests in red-accented robes to death with justice clubs. That’s the kind of world this is.

Being cooped up in the hotel, I hadn’t fully realized it.

Lucia smiled awkwardly and said:

“Well, I understand. Even with permission, having police escort someone in priestly robes would inevitably cause gossip.”

“Oh my… you’re being put through trouble. But where are you going in that white coat…?”

“Ah, I’m doing medical volunteer work today.”

Lucia held up the leather bag she was carrying. It looked like a doctor’s house call bag.

I looked back and forth between the bag and Lucia, then asked:

“You’re joking, right?”

“…? Why would this be a joke?”

Lucia’s expression was very, very serious.

I was dumbfounded by her confident attitude. Wait, so what she said in front of the reporters wasn’t just lip service? I had assumed it was just a formality.

As I stood there in shock, attendants—Inquisition agents—in civilian clothes rather than nun’s habits emerged into the hotel corridor carrying large bags.

“……”

I was stunned for a while, genuinely incredulous.

Then,

“…Ah. Come to think of it, you’re a soldier, right? Do you happen to be free today?”

“Pardon…? Why do you ask…?”

“Perfect timing. Would you like to accompany us?”

“Where to?”

“The medical volunteer work.”

Lucia asked me to join the medical volunteer work with a benevolent smile.

“Ah, well, since I’m a defense attaché, I’d need to get approval first…”

Naturally expecting rejection due to potential diplomatic complications, I called the delegation.

To my surprise, the Defense Attaché’s Office replied, “It doesn’t seem like a long commitment, so go ahead and look around as if you’re just sightseeing.”

“……”

“You’ll come, right?”

Lucia smiled brightly, and I averted my gaze.

And that’s how an unplanned medical volunteer activity was added to my schedule.