A Dark Fantasy Spy

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“….”

My heart feels troubled.

—”Colonel, it seems your predictions may be spot on.”

I cannot distinguish whether this is truly a game world or reality.

—”Though it’s circumstantial evidence, I believe it’s safe to consider that the Second Department Agents have been purged. Betrayal is treated like treason, and if the evidence is compelling, they might have been executed without trial. There could be other reasons, but what do we know?”

“….”

The colonel exhaled deeply.

—”Frederick, don’t dig too deep into this.”

“…I think that’s for the best.”

—”We have no reason to involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Imperial Guard HQ. Just monitor the situation and resume official schedules when the time is right.”

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

The nation, no, the entire continent has fallen into chaos.

The bomb terror and gunfight that erupted in the heart of the cult has left many high-ranking officials and civilians trembling with fear. As the terror spreads across the continent, hell has broken loose.

“…The Empire has declared a state of emergency.”

“Damn it.”

Jake cursed. Even a newcomer in their twenties couldn’t help but react to the dire situation.

Pippin began her report with the phone cradled in her neck.

“They’re currently reviewing the mobilization of reserve troops from the home front. With the movement of Imperial Army forces, a state of alarm has been raised across all troops.”

This is madness.

I turned on the news to witness the chaos unfolding in the world. The announcer was reading a script in a desperate tone.

‘An emergency has been declared across the Kien Empire. The military command has released a statement claiming that this decision was made as a necessary measure to maintain national stability in light of the rampant behavior and riots from subversive elements…’

A scene of a grizzled general reading the script appeared on the screen.

Since a gunfight broke out in the cult, the fact that the Empire declared a state of emergency suggests they are likely using this incident to tighten internal control and put an end to the localized skirmishes at the borders.

“What’s the Inquisition saying? No official announcement yet?”

“They’re only giving standard responses. It seems they don’t have the luxury to announce a statement right now.”

As I flipped channels, the image of the Inquisition press conference came into view.

The frantic questions from the reporters and the spokesperson’s urgent replies were quite striking.

‘Who was the perpetrator of the gunfight?!’
‘Is this another act of terrorism? Please answer us!’
‘Can each of you please take turns speaking…!’
‘According to witnesses, a significant amount of spent casings have been found! Were there any casualties or injuries?’
‘Wait, hold on. Please calm down for a moment…!’
‘How many people died?! Were there civilian casualties?!’
‘Is this a power struggle within organizations in the slums? Just one word, please!’

It seemed much quieter than a zoo.

Flipping the channel again, an interview video began to flow.

‘I believe this incident is linked to terrorism. The Inquisition, which is supposed to maintain order in the cult, has failed to provide a clear response even two days after the event. The incompetence of the Inquisition is being laid bare for all to see!’

The subtitles indicated that the speaker was a bishop.

He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite recall him.

The bishop flushed with anger, and his calm tone slowly grew more aggressive. The tension in the conversation was shooting up like Bitcoin prices.

“Hey, what’s up with that guy?”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just a publicity hound trying to grab the spotlight.”

Pippin dropped her phone and slumped into her chair with an annoyed response.

“I just received a report from the surveillance unit. There was a massive spike in communications heading to the Embassy of the Empire right after the gunfight, but now it has completely disappeared.”

“Radio silence, huh.”

Jake abruptly interjected, launching into his theory.

“They’re likely silent due to treating the wounded and regrouping. Given that an emergency has been declared in the Empire, the fact that there’s no communication suggests their higher-ups may have ordered them to cease operations and go into hiding.”

“Isn’t that counterintelligence guy probably wrestling with another agent right about now?”

“Given the situation, that’s a possibility. Who wouldn’t lose their cool if their comrades were gunned down?”

“Can we still contact the Embassy of the Empire?”

“No. Even if the ambassador himself called, they wouldn’t pick up. It seems they’ve shut down external communications due to the emergency.”

“This is ridiculous. Why are they causing havoc in someone else’s country?”

“Could it be internal power struggles?”

I shook my head at Jake’s words.

No matter the enmity, there’s no reason for individuals within the same agency to fire at each other.

If this was a conflict over a leadership position between the First and Second Departments, they would fight over results, but there wouldn’t be a need to kill each other.

It’s more likely they were purged for some kind of reason.

Yet even without specific reasons, something just felt off from the beginning.

Setting aside counterintelligence, I didn’t understand why the Inquisition’s department would come overseas, and it was suspicious for an agent of counterintelligence to hand over information related to the terrorism.

No clear answers emerged no matter how hard I strained my mind.

It felt like my head was filled with a foggy haze.

So I let out a hollow laugh and mumbled aimlessly.

“…Well, maybe they started fighting over lunch menus or something.”

Pippin and Jake looked at me like I was trash.

It seems my joke missed the mark. Their sense of humor is really lacking.

Just then, a light on the intercom in the corner of the desk began to blink.

It seemed someone was looking for me.

Leaving behind the busy Pippin and the report-reviewing Jake, I exited the conference room.

The hallway was packed with embassy staff bustling around with stacks of paperwork, practically igniting the floor beneath their feet as they ran.

“Excuse me. Just passing through.”

“Colonel!”

“Yes?”

Turning at the urgent voice, I saw Camila Lowell calling me as she hurried over.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. By the way, it seems the schedule is likely to be canceled for the time being, is that alright with you?”

“What? Of course, I’m fine. But what about you, Colonel…?”

“I’m fine with it. After all, I’m just a person who moves according to orders.”

Camila Lowell looked dejected. It seems she’s been through a lot. According to the psychological report, she’s under considerable mental strain. She seemed to have brightened up during recent events, but now her mood has quickly soured.

Certainly, whether here or on Earth, bomb terrorism and urban gunfights are significant enough events to headline the news. How could one remain at ease with such occurrences happening consecutively?

I forced a smile and patted her shoulder.

“Your safety, Camila Lowell, is my top priority, so don’t worry too much.”

“….”

“Go rest. I’m off now.”

Leaving her, who stood there dumbfounded, I walked away.

She likely needed time to think alone; it was best to leave her be for now.

“Colonel.”

Just as I made my way, her voice rang out in my ear.

Turning around, I saw Camila Lowell with a faint smile standing in the middle of the busy corridor.

“What’s the matter?”

“…Take care of yourself.”

She left that brief remark before disappearing.

Taken aback by her unexpected words, I stared at the path she walked, muttering to myself.

“…What was that about?”

Naturally, there was no reply.

—

*

At a café near the embassy.

Despite the shabby exterior, the interior was replete with vintage decor.

Subdued lighting and the fragrant scent of candles created a comforting atmosphere, while the inviting aroma of coffee served as the cherry on top.

“It’s been a while.”

However, given the circumstances,

There was no chance to sit back and enjoy coffee comfortably.

“It’s been a while, Director Bernard.”

Bernard, the head of the Inquisition’s Safety Department.

He was the man who had previously tested me alongside Petrus, and now we were seated face to face.

The fawning, subservient demeanor he had toward me was nowhere to be found; instead, a cold, expressionless man remained.

I suddenly remembered that this gentleman was a high-ranking official of the counterintelligence agency.

And in essence, he was my natural enemy.

Not in the mood for idle talk, I jumped straight to the point.

“Thank you, Director. Now, if you would, could you explain why you called for me?”

“It’s about the protection of the Hero.”

“Go ahead.”

“The Inquisition is aware that the recent terror attack and gunfight pose a major threat to the Hero’s safety. Therefore, we have doubled the protective personnel for the Hero.”

The personnel provided by the Inquisition included Knights, Inquisition Officers, as well as specialized healing priests.

Doubling the number of personnel like that sounds a bit much.

“You must be struggling to allocate that many personnel all at once.”

This had to be a decision made directly by the Pope or through a meeting of the Cardinals.

“The personnel is not an issue. Isn’t a human life more important?”

“…Human life is important.”

At first glance, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable statement.

Yet upon recalling the conversation between the former Inquisition Director Raphael and Raul, it wasn’t something I could rejoice over.

“I’ll gratefully accept your proposal.”

“Good. I’m glad there are no barriers in our communication.”

“It seems you have other matters to discuss with me, though?”

“Yes.”

Director Bernard pulled out a brown envelope from his briefcase and handed it to me.

I looked down at it and asked.

“…What’s this?”

“An internal document. Since you hold clearance, there’s no need to worry about being expelled for espionage.”

He cracked a dull joke, and I couldn’t help but scoff.

An internal document? I had mentioned something similar to him before.

“By the way, what do you mean by clearance?”

“The director personally requested for me to deliver this document to you. You may or may not know, but Director Petrus holds you in high regard.”

High regard, huh.

That’s not exactly reassuring.

Receiving the favor of the head of a counterintelligence agency while being an alleged spy isn’t exactly comforting. Forcing a polite thank you, I flipped the envelope and spilled its contents onto the table.

“Photographs.”

Picking one up, I waved it in the air.

“What a poor fellow, how did he end up with a hole in the back of his head?”

It was a photo of a corpse.

—

A neatly-dressed suit man was smiling brightly in front of me.

“Yuri, 34 years old, a businessman from the Principality of Latwan within the Kien Empire. He has been running a publishing house within the cult for several years.”

Another photo was placed before me.

It showed him mingling among other suit men, engaged in conversation beneath a banner.

“For a publisher, he certainly seems quite interested in trade—showing particular interest in minerals such as zinc, coal, and steel.”

“Those are the cult’s main exports, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just curious, so please don’t take this the wrong way—are those mined by forcing heretics and prisoners into labor?”

“They’re considered a form of punishment.”

His shameless response certainly resembled that of the Reds up north. They run legal labor camps while claiming to be religious leaders. No wonder the world is in such disarray.

“So this well-intentioned businessman who was interested in trade ended up shot? Did he get into debt or something?”

“It’s closer to execution than assassination.”

Director Bernard slid a few more photos across the table.

The ones displaying the hole in his head and the wrists and ankles bound with wire.

I chuckled lightly, tapping the photo.

“It seems he must have touched a woman tied to someone important.”

Such scenes are typically common.

This method is often used when hastily executing ideological or political prisoners.

“I don’t think that’s the case.”

Director Bernard placed a resume stamped with a security mark onto the table.

“…”

“Yuri was an operative in the Second Department of the Imperial Guard HQ. He was a spy operating within the cult. He has notably been active and was practically a white agent. He was being closely monitored by the Safety Department, but recently he vanished and was found executed in a sewer.”

The Second Department of the Imperial Guard HQ—a department dedicated to overseas operations.

A white agent—someone close to being a double agent. For such a person to be shot in the back of the head…

I took a strange sense of déjà vu as I examined the résumé.

“When did he go missing?”

“A week after the bomb terror attack.”

The bomb terror attack.

An agent from the Second Department goes missing immediately after the bomb terror attack.

“What was his typical line of work?”

“Nothing unusual. Lobbying, gathering information, and occasionally researching international criminal organizations.”

“Something about what you said gives off the impression that you might have known him.”

“Well, the Safety Department also investigates international crimes.”

So he was an information agent.

It implies that there was likely a somewhat reciprocal relationship rather than a purely one-sided information exchange. So while operating for large-scale interstate intelligence operations, they didn’t have a particularly rigid sense of hierarchy.

Drug offenses, illegal arms trading, human trafficking—they’re all areas where it’s customary for multiple intelligence agencies to cooperate.

“So did this guy end up dead while probing into a crime organization?”

“We don’t know. However, considering the timing, we suspect he may have been connected with the organization behind the bomb terror.”

I stared for a long time at the photos he had handed over.

There were many things I wanted to say, many questions to ask, but in the end, I could only voice a generic inquiry.

“…Why are you showing me this?”

“I already told you—Director Petrus thinks very highly of you.”

“That’s a bit much of a compliment.”

“We’re also planning to provide you with additional materials, so please don’t refuse.”

I glared at Bernard’s impassive face as I tapped my fingernails on the table, lost in thought.

A concealed operative from the Second Department.

A killing method akin to execution.

International crime investigation.

Lobbyist.

Bomb terror.

In the world of espionage, not everything unfolds peacefully, leading to such unfortunate events occurring.

Whether white or black, once you step into the world of espionage, absolute safety is seldom guaranteed.

Thus, intelligence agents invest considerable effort into operating securely. If information leaks out, it could very well endanger not just themselves but also their comrades.

Of course, even with such efforts, there are plenty who get caught and expelled or imprisoned. Given that espionage operations are human endeavors, perfection is unattainable.

And nothing comes without a price in this world.

In that sense,

“…Hah.”

Suddenly, the Inquisition brings me information like this for a reason.

“What is it that you want me to do?”

“It’s simple. Find the ones who set off the bombs.”

I figured as much.

The Inquisition currently finds itself cornered. They failed to prevent the bomb terror, resulting in casualties, and now internal gunfights within the cult have erupted.

Typically, officials would be losing their minds, demanding the person responsible at the stake, but unexpectedly, Petrus seems to be holding his ground.

This likely means his achievements are significant enough to outweigh his past mistakes.

Not to mention, it implies that he has secured the internal management of the Inquisition sufficiently to quell dissatisfaction.

Since such a formidable elder has chosen to make the bet, there’s no way I can go and flip the board over.

“…I will do my best.”

Deal.

—

—”So, what did you decide?”

“I’ve decided to accept it. It’s a counter-terrorism investigation, after all. It would be a bit strange for us to dig alone, wouldn’t it?”

—”Hmm… that’s fine. However, hearing that a spy from the Empire was executed makes me slightly uneasy.”

“Why the sudden worry?”

—”It’s not that I doubt you, but I still have some concerns.”

I could understand the colonel’s feelings.

Tracking down individuals who could bomb things and kill agents would inherently be a daunting task.

Training a capable agent incurs costs in the hundreds of millions by Earth standards. The loss of an agent is a sorrow that transcends mere sadness; it’s a national loss.

“Yet you granted me the authority to conduct such work in the first place.”

—”I opposed it.”

“Pardon?”

—”You know just how dangerous black-ops can be, which is why I opposed it.”

Those were words I’d never expected to hear.

Yet it wasn’t something I couldn’t comprehend.

Colonel Clevenz was a counterintelligence agent who had eliminated countless spies, some of whom had undoubtedly been caught while executing black-ops.

That’s why he must be worried.

“You seem to have many concerns.”

—”…Is that so?”

He was oddly warm-hearted.

Despite the ominous rumors surrounding Colonel Clevenz, it seems he treated spies humanely. I had heard his subordinates in counterintelligence criticizing him for exactly that.

A man who captures spies yet treats them with humanity.

However, he was also an elite who meticulously separates public from private affairs, imprisoning countless spies.

In my view, Colonel Clevenz was indeed a paradoxical figure.

It was hard to believe that such a man would so casually send assassins my way in the game world.

“Anyway, the counter-terrorism investigation will be conducted jointly. As it’s not an official operation, there may be some hurdles, but that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

—”Proceed with that plan. I’ll try to stamp as best I can on what you do from here on out, so just keep me updated on the start and progress. I’ll sign off now.”

“Please take care.”

I stuffed the turned-off communication device into my coat pocket.

Strolling down the desolate path, I took in the surroundings.

The darkened shopping district and the empty streets evoked thoughts of the city’s demise.

Yet the little lights that broke through the curtains shone gently, illuminating the darkening city like soft candle flames.

The glowing embers of tiny lives were gradually dispelling the darkness, chipping away at the night sky.

It was beautiful.

Ding!

“…What now?”

Looking at the number displayed on the communication device, I found it was the operational phone number of a concealing agent from the embassy.

The communication device given to us by the information agency was standardly fitted with secure lines. Occasionally, we exchanged numbers for discussions related to work.

“Hello?”

—”Colonel, please return to the embassy immediately.”

“I’m right outside the embassy. Don’t tell me something has happened again?”

—”Our agents have captured a spy.”