Ch.78Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

I successfully intercepted wireless communications from Fatalia’s national intelligence agency, the National Security Bureau.

Technical agents from the Military Intelligence Bureau’s Technical Information Department began decrypting the codes. They’re comparing them against encryption systems registered in their servers, and if there’s no match, they plan to gather cryptography specialists to break the code.

According to the technician, the interception wasn’t perfect due to too many surrounding buildings, but I couldn’t really understand all the technical jargon since I’m from a humanities background.

Anyway, they say results will come as early as today or by tomorrow at the latest.

And the next morning at dawn,

I received a call on a secure line.

“…Yes, this is the Section Chief speaking.”

-“We’ve successfully decrypted it.”

“Send it to headquarters.”

The science guys pulled it off.

Episode 5 – Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy

Thanks to the efforts of the tech geeks at the Technical Information Department, we successfully gathered information about Fabio Verati.

I summarized the findings in a single document.

“…Investigation Report No. 51. Section Chief, is this it?”

“Yes, that’s right. Fabio Verati’s personal file.”

Report No. 51.

It’s a comprehensive dossier covering everything from his past activities, associates connected to Fabio Verati, his main movements, daily routine, duties at the Magic Tower delegation, medical records, and even his small habits.

The reason we named it Report No. 51 rather than the Fabio Verati Investigation Report is for security purposes.

“Jake, Pippin. I’ve already explained this to the handlers, but from now on, you should also use code words. Even when it’s just us.”

“For security reasons?”

“Yes. Have you memorized all the terminology?”

The codename for this operation is “Operation Opera.”

The operational unit in charge is “Project Team 73,” and our first target, Fabio Verati, has been designated as “No. 51.”

“The name seems a bit…”

“Cheap?”

“Like it was named by older folks—”

“It came from above.”

“I thought it had a certain maturity to it.”

All designations were directly assigned by the Military Intelligence Bureau.

However, the terminology we use “in the field” differs from the official designations used by “the desk” at headquarters. This is also for security reasons.

As a result, many personnel involved in the operation don’t know the exact designations. Only the handlers who oversee team members and those considered core members know them.

And coincidentally, two of those core members were right in front of me.

Pippin and Jake.

“Pippin. What are the analysts doing right now?”

“We’re currently collecting open-source intelligence. We’re gathering information related to the Talent Development Institute and No. 51, mainly from press releases and academic journals.”

“Good. You’re the team leader there, so I trust you’ll handle it well.”

“Yes, sir.”

The intelligence analysis team consists of four analysts and one senior analyst.

They will meet all analytical needs arising in the field, collect open-source intelligence that can be gathered from the office, and simultaneously receive and distribute information from the headquarters analysis team.

For reference, Pippin is the team leader. The rest—officers, non-commissioned officers, and civilian employees—are all team members. They’re all familiar with each other as seniors and juniors. Since Pippin has the most years of experience, there shouldn’t be any confusion in the chain of command.

As for their abilities, they’ve all passed the Military Intelligence Bureau’s regular training with good grades, so they should be reliable.

“Any new information come in?”

“Um… we received a document from the Foreign Ministry today. It warns that an extremist group is planning a demonstration, so everyone should be careful.”

This is information I heard from Sophia.

The Foreign Ministry document not only announced the demonstration but also included trend analysis of major factions within the Magic Tower (administration, legislature, judiciary, police, counterintelligence agencies, media, civil organizations, etc.).

I skimmed through the document and handed it back to Pippin.

“It says to read and destroy. Contact the handlers and then destroy it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Next… Jake.”

“Yes, Section Chief.”

“Are you in contact with the staff?”

The next group is the human intelligence team.

Jake will lead this team. Originally, I should have been the team leader, but as the handler overseeing the entire operation, I had too many responsibilities to take it on.

Jake, having come from a special operations unit specializing in intelligence, civil affairs, and psychological warfare, was the most suitable candidate.

“Yes, I’ve made contact. They’re currently on standby at an undisclosed location.”

The intelligence agents from the Foreign Intelligence Office are ready.

“There are three of them, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. The Special Activities Division will handle surveillance of No. 51, and the Technical Department will handle wiretapping, so you take your people and probe the surrounding figures.”

“Yes, understood. But about the Special Task Force…?”

“Ah, my mistake. Not the Special Task Force, but the Special Activities Division.”

The Special Activities Division is responsible for directly monitoring Fabio Verati. Conversely, the Technical Information Department conducts communication interception.

The Counterintelligence Division disseminates information sent by headquarters investigators and monitors other intelligence agencies to prepare for possible counterintelligence operations. If our activities are detected by the Magic Tower, the Counterintelligence Division will be the first to notice.

Pippin and Jake nodded, seemingly understanding my explanation.

“Oh, right. Jake.”

“Yes?”

“Among the surrounding figures, pay close attention to the youngest. Movements, residence, friends, teachers—examine everything thoroughly. And how old did you say they were? 15? 16?”

“17. But why the youngest…?”

Jake asked me with a puzzled expression, but I didn’t satisfy his curiosity.

“You don’t need to know the details. Just do as you’re told.”

“Fiiiine.”

“For now, we need permission for the rest, so just monitor for now. Understood?”

“Understood.”

*

The operation to track down the spy’s backers is proceeding smoothly without any issues.

By digging into the surrounding figures, especially focusing on superiors and subordinates, we’ll inevitably uncover the higher-ups. Keeping an eye on the youngest is just taking out insurance.

Anyway.

I’ve more or less finished my duties as an operations officer for today. What remains are my duties as a defense attaché and colleague.

“Please be careful.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Slowly, slowly. Here, this lower part.”

To be honest, nothing particularly memorable happened. What’s so special about medical volunteer work?

In other words, it meant there were no hazards or dangers involved, but that didn’t make it any less tedious and repetitive.

The physical exhaustion was just a bonus.

I thought that being a holy water carrier would make me light as a feather thanks to divine power, but it turned out to be heavier than a bundle of 1.5L bottles.

“How many boxes are left…?”

“Still many.”

“But how many exactly…?”

“Sometimes it’s better not to know.”

I put down the heavy box and gasped for breath.

My mouth was parched, sweat was pouring down like rain, and suddenly I tasted something sweet in my mouth.

For a moment, my mind wandered. I couldn’t tell if I was at a medical volunteer site or a naval training ground.

“When, exactly, will this end…?”

To my desperate question, Rebecca, the priestess who was distributing supplies consisting of holy water, medical items, and some food rations, answered:

“Lunch break is in three hours.”

“…That much time left?”

“We’ve only been at it for an hour.”

Horrifying news.

I squeezed out what little strength I had left and moved the unbearably heavy boxes. There were no breaks or helpers. The Inquisition agents had all come out to help because of the shortage of manpower, but even with their numbers, they couldn’t handle the flood of patients.

Just then, an investigator (actually an Inquisition agent in disguise) moving boxes next to me asked:

“Attaché.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Um, couldn’t you request some support…?”

Too exhausted to even shake my head, I just gave a brief answer:

“Just give up.”

I had tried requesting personnel support from the delegation, calling yesterday, but still hadn’t received any response. So I asked the defense attaché’s office, but…

-“I’m sorry. We don’t have anyone with enough physical strength to work at the medical volunteer site…”

“What? Then why am I going?”

-“I’m sorry. Orders from above…”

I was rejected. They probably refused after seeing me loading and unloading on the news yesterday.

To make matters worse, the Ministry of Defense, for whatever reason, assigned me to the medical volunteer site. I tried to avoid going, thinking it was just a minor event or a one-day volunteer activity, but when I received a call from the Defense Minister’s secretariat, I couldn’t refuse.

So I seriously considered submitting my resignation.

-“Thinking of retiring?”

“No, I don’t have any intention of that yet. I was just curious—”

-“Even if you retire, we can just rehire you as a civilian employee.”

“…”

-“Isn’t it nice to have a job for life?”

“…Indeed.”

I previously had no intention whatsoever of retiring, but considering my recent lifestyle, I thought I might need to retire and take a short break. But when I heard about being rehired as a civilian employee, I was so alarmed that I tore up my retirement papers.

While others might struggle to make a living after retiring or resigning, at least I have the option of becoming a civilian employee or joining a competitor. Is that lucky or unlucky?

I wouldn’t know. I’ve never resigned before.

While I was momentarily lost in thought, an accident occurred.

“Hey, hey, watch out!”

“Damn! It’s falling!”

When I came to my senses amid the commotion, a pile of boxes had somehow approached right in front of me.

“Ugh…!”

Crash, bang, clatter.

“…”

“Are, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Open your eyes!”

Buried under the collapsed boxes, I stared at the magically created sky above and pondered.

“…Could someone remove these, please?”

I wished someone would give my head a good smack.

*

Despite the minor accident, the medical volunteer work ended at the scheduled time.

The boxes that crushed me were all empty, but in that fleeting moment, I had planned with the Inquisition agents to make a fuss as if I were seriously injured to get a short break.

And I failed.

“You’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”

“…”

Lucia, creating a light aura with her finger to treat my abdomen and chest, said:

“Well, I understand. Having such a large pile of boxes collapse would naturally cause your muscles to tense up from shock.”

“…Ah, yes.”

“Should I give you a muscle relaxant? Even divine power can’t do much for pain.”

“…Yes, please give me one.”

If the person doing medical volunteer work is a saint, surely they could heal such a minor injury. As for me, even the Inquisition agents who participated—seeing how they all ran away when they saw Lucia treating me—must have been driven mad by exhaustion.

In the end, I was the only one left embarrassed. Those religious folks who had made a fuss with me scurried away when they saw Lucia treating me. Such disloyal people.

Of course, this wasn’t something I could freely discuss in front of an ordinary religious person like Lucia, so I just swallowed it along with the medicine.

“You’re supposed to take that after meals.”

“Well, what does it matter? I’m eating now.”

I sat with Lucia in a private room of an elegant restaurant, cutting the meat that was served as my portion.

As soon as I put it in my mouth, the meat melted away in an extraordinary manner.

I focused on my meal, savoring the flavor of the meat and the buttery aroma filling my mouth.

“Why are your hands shaking like that?”

“It’s because I’m tired. Don’t worry about it, there’s no health issue.”

After carrying heavy loads without rest, my arms were trembling.

It wasn’t shaking uncontrollably like someone with alcohol addiction, but it was noticeable enough that others might think something was wrong. The Inquisition people were the same way.

“Do you think Camilla has eaten?”

“She’s probably having lunch at the hotel. She practiced magic and visited the library this morning, so she might be resting after finishing her meal by now.”

Camilla continues to stay at the hotel. There have been suggestions that she should have an educator assigned to her, but finding one is difficult due to security concerns. Additionally, various governments are engaged in intense competition over the educator position.

For now, the plan is to assign someone once background checks are completed for the candidates and they’ve gone through evaluation. Since the political maneuvering is the Foreign Ministry’s responsibility, I, as part of an intelligence agency, am not particularly concerned. Camilla is studying and practicing magic on her own, so we’re not just sitting around doing nothing.

“How will you conduct the examination?”

“We plan to gather personnel and conduct the examination as soon as possible.”

“That’s good. I hope there won’t be any major issues.”

“I’m not a medical professional or a magician, but it should be fine. The results will be out soon.”

After finishing our conversation, we focused on our meal. Lucia, who was cutting her meat, suddenly spoke:

“I don’t understand why they gave us a private room. There are plenty of tables outside.”

She muttered with a puzzled expression.

“Given our status, it can’t be helped.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean, all your attendants are in private rooms too.”

No matter that they entered the country in a personal capacity, the fact remains that Lucia and her attendants are people of the Church.

And the Magic Tower still remembers the atrocities committed by the Church: inquisitions, devil worship, burnings at the stake, religious trials, assassinations, kidnappings, torture, and more.

Magicians tend to record the knowledge they accumulate, and frankly, living a life where they might be captured and killed at any moment, secretly passing down the heritage preserved by their ancestors is a shared mission and sense of duty among all magicians.

And that knowledge includes their direct experiences and emotions. That’s why magicians still tend to shudder at the mention of the Church, and for some, it’s still ongoing—new victims continue to emerge.

Now imagine Church people dining in the middle of the Magic Tower, filled with magicians. What kind of incident might occur?

Despite the Magic Tower officials’ requests for understanding, several restaurants refused Lucia and her attendants, saying they absolutely would not serve clergy. This restaurant agreed to provide seating only on the condition that they would eat quietly in a private room and then leave.

Of course, Lucia and her attendants don’t know this. The officials and I resolved it quietly.

So all I could say to Lucia was:

“It’s nothing to worry about, so don’t think too much about it.”

In the end, all I could tell her was to relax and just eat.

Neither I who spoke, nor Lucia who listened, understood completely, but what could we do?

The world is a strange place.

*

During the meal, I received a phone call.

-Ring ring ring!

“Ah, I’m sorry. It’s a call from the delegation.”

“That’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Excuse me for a moment.”

I took the communication device connected to the secure line and stepped into the corridor.

The caller was Team Leader 2, the investigator leading the Counterintelligence Division’s investigation team.

After quickly scanning my surroundings, I went to a secluded corner to take the call.

“Hello.”

-“Section Chief. This is the Counterintelligence Division team leader.”

“Go ahead.”

-“We have a problem.”

A problem?

I was momentarily speechless at this sudden development.

The investigator continued:

-“It’s about No. 51’s associate. The child currently under surveillance.”

Fabio Verati’s youngest daughter.

“…Has some issue arisen?”

-“It seems we’re not the only ones monitoring her.”

Another intelligence agency is watching her.