A Dark Fantasy Spy

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The agent began the report in a hurried voice.

“A shootout has occurred. The initial report came in at 07:16. It was confirmed that multiple gunshots were heard in the southern outskirts slums. There were also traces of blood and unclaimed corpses at the scene.”

The slums.

In this day and age, weapons capable of killing people are scattered everywhere.

Possession of illegal firearms is a serious crime, but who cares? It’s a world where monsters clad in human skin roam freely.

If one has a bit of money and connections, obtaining a weapon for personal protection is a breeze. Especially in slums where various organizations clash over interests, it’s even easier.

However, if a shootout broke out in the heart of a cult, things just got very serious.

So, I asked the agent, “Who reported this?”

“The agents who were setting up the surveillance facility in the area.”

The southern outskirts of the cult.

Surveillance facility.

It was the office established a few days ago to monitor the Imperial Guard’s counterintelligence agents.

Who could the parties in the shootout be?

I don’t know who did the shooting, but one thing is sure: the cult will be in chaos by today.

“First, cancel all official schedules. Who initiated the shootout? Was it the Imperial Guard?”

“Ah, um, we don’t know. The agents took photos of the scene, though…”

“Did they get faces?”

“Yes?”

“I mean, did they photograph the corpses’ faces!”

“Yes, yes! They did. Currently, the photos are being sent back to compare with the database!”

They must have used a secure line for communication.

At least an hour will be needed to identify the individuals.

“How far is it from there to here?”

“It will take less than an hour to arrive. And the scene is still uncontrolled.”

I turned on my heel and headed towards the entrance.

“Let’s go, quickly.”

—

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

I rushed to the scene.

Police were already present at the location. Maintaining order within the cult is currently the job of the Inquisition. In other words, those police officers belong to the Inquisition.

I strode over, crossed the police line, and entered the scene. Naturally, a few officers approached and blocked our way. Their insignia indicated they were the scene commander.

“Who are you! This is a restricted area… huh?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you for your hard work.”

“…Um, you are… fellow heroes…?”

“Yes. May I take a look at the scene?”

I exchanged a bright smile with the dumbfounded officer and shook hands with him. He took a look at me and cleared his throat a few times, then stepped aside.

Pippin and Jake looked bewildered, so I lightly shook my empty wallet.

“Did you just slip a bribe during the handshake?”

“Smooth, right? You should learn this too.”

I smiled and stepped into the scene.

The two of them followed me as we began searching.

The shootout had occurred in a narrow alley of the slums.

It seemed the police were far enough away that their response was delayed. Or maybe they were too scared to respond.

Anyway, that isn’t what’s important right now.

“Anyone here have experience with gunfire?”

Jake raised his hand, looking baffled.

“What were you doing before coming to the Information Agency?”

“I was drafted from Special Forces.”

“Good. Pippin, what about you?”

“I come from the Intelligence Corps. I worked in the analysis team.”

A combat expert and an analysis expert.

I gestured for them to follow me into the alley.

The scene was chaos.

There were multiple bullet marks on the walls and bloodstains scattered across the floor.

As I surveyed the area, I spoke up.

“Conduct a scene analysis. Time limit: 5 minutes. Find out who shot from what angle, and how many casualties there are.”

Pippin and Jake spread out to begin their search.

Watching them closely, I started my own assessment.

…

There were particularly numerous bullet marks on one specific wall. At least more than 15 shots had hit it.

Why was that?

I suspect someone used this wall as cover.

Peeking around the wall, I found enough space for one person to crouch. Perhaps the scene had not been cleared yet, as remnants of spent cartridges lay untouched.

…There are no bloodstains.

I pocketed a few cartridges and slowly examined the other wall.

The bullet marks were concentrated on the wall opposite the one I just saw.

This means there must have been at least one prolonged exchange of fire, using both walls for cover.

…

Jake ran over and pointed at the opposite wall.

“That wall has a total of 8 bullet marks.”

“This wall has at least 15 marks.”

The difference in bullet marks is clear.

A fierce exchange of fire had taken place, and it seemed the person hiding behind this wall had received concentrated fire.

They certainly seemed to be at a numerical disadvantage.

While they were being shot at, there was no one to provide cover.

“It seems they were pinned down. The bullet marks on that side are too scattered. It’s likely that they just exposed themselves to fire while shooting back.”

“What about the bloodstains?”

“There’s a long trail of blood from that wall to the exit. Someone wounded might have been dragged out.”

Pippin approached us, holding her phone.

“It seems the first shots were fired in the center of the alley. There are bloodstains everywhere.”

When we arrived at the center of the alley, Pippin’s report held true; blood was everywhere.

There were puddles and long trails, and handprints stained the ground.

“At least three died here.”

“How do you know that?”

I stomped my boot on the ground.

It was right at the spot where a handprint and a blood puddle were.

“It looks like someone was shot in the lower body while crawling right around here.”

Pointing toward the bloodstains on the other side, I continued.

“More than two were killed over there. One must have died instantly, while the other seemed to have bled out while crawling.”

The remaining ones seemed to have sustained minor injuries and managed to escape.

Jake rushed to that spot and began combing the ground, while Pippin hastily spoke into her phone for quite a while.

“Our agents have found three bodies.”

Right on the mark.

“Colonel!”

Jake sprinted over holding a pistol.

It was a familiar item.

“I found this.”

“…”

I silently accepted the gun, unloaded it, and compared the bullets with some cartridges I pulled from my pocket.

The sizes matched.

That meant both sides had been shooting the same bullets at each other.

In this world, bullet calibers differ from country to country. Unlike today with standardizations like 9mm or .45 ACP, it’s all over the place.

In short, it means they all used the same ammunition.

Pippin spoke up.

“If we analyze the bullet and cartridge, we might discern the nationality.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I handed Pippin the bullet and cartridge.

She rolled them in her palm and nodded as if realizing something.

“They’re the same ammunition.”

“Which means all the people here belong to the same faction?”

“I’d assume so. The Intelligence Agency rarely duplicates the firearms used on location.”

Pippin returned the bullet and cartridge to me, and Jake, who was watching, spoke up.

“You do know which faction they belong to, right?”

“…I do. There’s no way I’d forget those bastards.”

A wry smile crept onto my face.

“Wow… these bastards are really out of control…”

I stared down at the pistol in my grip.

The standard-issue sidearm of the Imperial Army.

It meant that the people present here belonged to the Imperial Guard.

—

We mobilized agents to search every hospital near the slums, but we couldn’t find any emergency patients with gunshot wounds.

It seemed the Imperial Guard agents had already fled and disappeared.

With nothing more to gain, we returned to the embassy and locked the door to the conference room.

Turning on the TV mounted on the conference room wall, we checked the breaking news.

Just as I expected, the cult had already been turned upside down.

“…A shooting incident occurred in the outskirts of the cult at around 9 AM today. Upon investigation, it was found that dozens of gunshots were fired….”

“The Inquisition’s spokesperson has only confirmed that they are investigating the incident’s background…”

“Some sectors are expressing concern that this may be a precursor to another terrorist act….”

I carefully scanned for any vital information, but only fragmented tidbits and baseless speculations flowed through.

It seemed nobody had truly grasped the situation yet.

At least I grasped the changing circumstances. The news currently airing wasn’t particularly trustworthy.

I gestured for them to lower the volume, then adjusted the communication device placed in the center of the room.

We needed information that contained actual substance.

So, I called someone who might have that information.

“Colonel Clevenz? Can you hear me?”

-‘I’ve reviewed the report from this morning. A shootout occurred.’

“Yes. From the bullets and handgun left at the scene, it seems the imperial troops had a dispute. Both sides notably used the same caliber bullets.”

-‘Looks like the Imperial Guard has indeed gone mad. Shooting each other like that.’

A deep sigh that couldn’t be concealed echoed through the communication line.

“This could probably be internal strife, right? From what I’ve seen, personnel from sector one were active within the cult, which might have led to a clash with personnel from sector two.”

I proposed the hypothesis of a violent conflict stemming from territorial encroachment.

Whether it was right or wrong, I didn’t know. But it was the only rational explanation.

In that world, maintaining one’s territory without stepping on others’ toes is the rule of the game. Yet, counterintelligence agents broke that rule.

Naturally, a confrontation could arise. Of course, it was unclear if such an issue would escalate to the point of drawing weapons against each other.

What’s certain is that the Imperial Guard is involved in the ongoing terrorist activity and shootouts surrounding the cult.

-‘Internal strife… I’ve heard rumors of severe power struggles within the Imperial Guard. Is that possibly the reason…?’

“Has there been any intelligence from the department responsible for the empire?”

-‘It’s been quite tough; there’s so much intelligence coming in that it’s overwhelming.’

Having too much intel can be a predicament.

In fact, it’s a dilemma of information analysis.

Since ultimately, analysis is a human task, there’s a limit to how much one can handle.

When too much intel comes in, the accuracy of the analysis declines drastically. Or people may become too exhausted to analyze anything at all.

It’s akin to overindulging in food.

The issue is that while a single indigestion pill might solve an upset stomach, inaccurate intel analysis leads to agents’ deaths.

That’s why information analysis takes time.

However, we can’t afford to wait for the results. We must ascertain what’s happening to ensure the hero’s safety.

“For security reasons, we have canceled all schedules. Have the identities of the bodies been confirmed? I heard the agents took photos.”

-‘Confirmed—these are indeed Imperial Guard agents.’

Gotcha, those bastards.

I couldn’t help but clap in delight.

“So, they shot up another country’s territory, but the bodies of their agents are here with us? With such definitive evidence, we are effectively holding the knife.”

Regardless of what those bastards are cooking up, we need to strip them bare for information.

We need to nab the one who set off the bomb.

-‘…Uh, that seems to be the case, yes.’

For some reason, the response was lacking in enthusiasm.

What’s going on? It’s the first time I’ve seen the Colonel react like this.

Pippin and Jake, who were listening, exchanged puzzled glances.

Throughout the conference room, only the Colonel’s “Hmmm…” could be heard.

“What’s the matter?”

-‘It’s… yes, while they are Imperial Guard agents, it’s…’

This doesn’t sound good.

-‘It’s true, but… sigh…’

“I’m wondering how to explain this.”

I could even hear the sound of papers being thrown.

“What’s happening? You were sure they were Imperial Guard agents.”

-‘…They’re not all from the same division.’

“I’m sorry, what?”

-‘The dead ones all belong to different departments.’

What in the world does that mean?

“We already know that. The counterintelligence agency from sector one was in conflict with the overseas operations department from sector two, right?”

-‘No, um… sigh…’

The Colonel muttered curses reluctantly before starting to explain.

-‘The deceased were from the Counterintelligence Department, the Anti-Intelligence Department, and the Overseas Operations Department. In other words…’

It means agents from three different departments gathered in one place and shot each other.

—

Regardless of the world, the duties of intelligence agencies are quite similar.

Intelligence gathering – report writing.

Security – counterintelligence.

Overseas – domestic operations.

Aside from that, there’s the detection of industrial spies, assistance with overseas corporate activities, diplomacy, management of critical national facilities, supporting decision-makers’ judgments, and investigating the identities of public officers, among other tasks.

While areas of activity are divided between departments, as always in the world, clear lines are rarely drawn in practical work.

Spies exist not only domestically but also overseas.

A domestic spy might suddenly retreat abroad. It’s no different for industrial spies.

Thus, to take down these sneaky bastards effectively, departments under intelligence agencies maintain close cooperation, striving to fulfill their roles.

But the current situation is absurd.

-‘… The Imperial Guard has three divisions under sector one. The Anti-Intelligence Department works with sector two on overseas counterintelligence operations. The Counterintelligence Department primarily focuses on identifying spies. And the Security Department manages international criminals, ideological offenders, and political prisoners. These three departments make up sector one.’

The Colonel continued explaining in a more composed tone.

-‘In sector two, various departments handle intelligence activities specific to each country. The one who got shot over there was in charge of cult activities.’

This is quite similar to us.

The Military Intelligence Agency also has various overseas operations departments each responsible for different countries. Among them, the one responsible for the Kien Empire is the most taxing.

-‘The problem is that the agents found dead together were from the Counterintelligence Department and the Anti-Intelligence Department. While it’s suspicious that the Counterintelligence Department went overseas, the Anti-Intelligence Department is supposed to work closely with sector two, right?’

Yet here they are, shooting each other in the face.

-‘There hasn’t been any conflict between the Anti-Intelligence and Overseas Operations departments, and the Counterintelligence and Overseas Operations divisions wouldn’t normally clash over overlapping duties.’

This is a total mess. I genuinely have no idea what’s happening.

“Please tell me it’s not an internal power struggle.”

-‘Even the rogues wouldn’t shoot each other.’

Colonel Clevenz, the one slated to be the next head of the Intelligence Agency, said so.

He was the victor in the power struggles, having cleared away rivals through his dazzling accomplishments and brilliant political maneuvering.

-‘How mysterious.’

“Yes?”

-‘If it were a fight over territory, they would have brawled at the command level. There’s no reason for field agents to open fire on each other in broad daylight, is there?”

In an instant, an unusual silence fell across the conference room.

No one dared to make a sound, just rolling their eyes as limitless imagination spread in their minds. Suddenly, a horrifying scenario came to mind. It was a reasoning almost instinctual.

“…Wait, if it’s neither a power struggle nor about food resources, if they didn’t shoot each other because of those reasons…”

-‘….’

“Then if the counterintelligence agents shot the overseas operatives, that would be a purge, wouldn’t it?”

The Colonel remained silent.

The job of the Counterintelligence and Anti-Intelligence Departments is clear.

To catch spies.

“…Could it be that the operatives in sector two defected?”

-‘….’

The Colonel stayed silent.

Silence served as affirmation.