A Dark Fantasy Spy

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On a scorching day in Shizuya, where the thermometer suggested a murderous 69.8°F,

the temperature was an abomination, a figure so vile it could shake the beards of communism-obsessed dwarves—a disgusting ‘Fahrenheit’ reading that would approximate around 21°C in Celsius.

Why on earth was Fahrenheit, an abomination that shouldn’t exist in this world, even mentioned when we had the proud Celsius system?

Simply because Camila hailed from England!

Just as you must abide by Roman law when in Rome, when an Englishman is around, it is only right to apply yard-pounds and Fahrenheit. (Though, of course, the Indian perspective who’ve switched to the metric system might differ.)

A wizard pursuing a woman who was fleeing with the stamina that would astonish even a Kenyan marathoner,

Camila was wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead in front of the cool magic air-conditioner, wearing an awkward smile on her face.

“Umm… This is quite troublesome…”

Frederick had called her out, prompting her to lazily exit the hotel, only to unexpectedly dive into a sprint. And what’s worse, she had her target snatched away and was kidnapped by mysterious thugs!

Had her master, Duke Alexandra Petrovna, seen her antics, she would have metaphorically smashed her legs with a stick to keep her from wandering.

Ironically, the one who’d been kidnapped, Camila, seemed to care little, lounging casually in the breeze of the air-conditioner.

One of her kidnappers, a woman in her mid-twenties, was so friendly that it was hard to believe she was actually a kidnapper.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, I see… I’m sorry. You must have been very startled.”

Scratching her head awkwardly with an embarrassed expression was none other than the information officer.

She was Ayla Nostrim, a recently appointed agent of the Royal Intelligence Department, having only been in the job for about six months.

“I’m Ayla. Nice to meet you, Hero.”

“Nice to meet you too! You work for the Royal Intelligence Department, right?”

“It’s been about half a year. Not counting the training period, of course.”

Truth be told, revealing one’s identity to a civilian was something an information officer should absolutely avoid, but for Camila, it didn’t pose any issue.

She was an officially registered information agent with Military Intelligence, and since Frederick was assigned as her supervisor, naturally, even the sister of the infamous Black-haired Beast (especially when considering the context of her female companions) could reveal her identity.

Of course, this decision wasn’t solely Ayla’s choice; it was a company-wide policy. After all, the senior operative had chosen to disclose her status to Camila.

“By the way, is that person who looks like Thanos also working for the Royal Intelligence Department? Is he your superior?”

“I don’t know what Thanos is, but… yeah, he’s my superior, for now…”

Camila’s eyes sparkled as she began to smile with interest, pointing to a man who looked like Thanos, stripped of his purple tattoos, resembling a CIA officer from Mexico, a senior operations officer named Matt.

“Ohh…”

The Sicario series, along with the 007 series, were her most beloved movies, and the resemblance of Matt to her favorite actor brought back nostalgic memories of scenes that she had joyfully watched in theaters.

For context, the two had brushed past each other once long ago. As Camila recalled, it was when she visited Abas during a vacation at the Magic Tower, having followed the Warp Gate.

It was interesting enough to encounter someone in real life resembling an actor she had seen on screen, especially meeting him in Ashtistan. It was only natural for her to be bouncing around excited like a Chihuahua.

Everything was new and intriguing, but nothing could compare to Ayla.

Facing the ‘legendary mate’ she had only heard of, Camila chatted away with Ayla.

“I’ve heard a lot about Frederick. He has a younger sister who’s a magician, right? They say she’s exceptionally talented.”

“Ahaha. Did he say that? I doubt he said anything nice.”

“Not at all! From what I heard, you two seem to have a close relationship. So how did you end up at the Royal Intelligence Department?”

“I saw a recruitment ad for a trading company in the newspaper, so I applied. Turned out they were having a casual interview at a café before the written test, and I was surprised there was such a company… Only to find out it was the Royal Intelligence Department.”

“Ah, so you met the recruiter there. Usually, those things are conducted over the phone before the main interview; it’s quite unusual.”

Interviews knotted around questions like how did one end up working here, what’s one’s major, hobbies, and so on.

Laughing away, they engaged in delightful chatter, reminiscent of carefree days before enchantments enchanted them in the world of espionage.

In the meantime,

“Have you been in touch with your brother? I wonder if he wouldn’t worry if you suddenly went off the grid…”

Ayla, worried about the brother who might be getting frazzled, unexpectedly lent Camila her cell phone.

Though Ayla had thoughtlessly offered it up, claiming her battery had died, the unfortunate part was that the recipient of the message was not on good terms.

In a brief call lasting less than three minutes, the information officer who had honed his skills for over a decade caught onto her existence without much effort.

-Crunch!

“…Where the hell is Ayla!?”

The older brother had practically been sent to the gallows due to his sister’s antics.

Here, it was a comedic slam.

Side Episode – Another Peaceful Day in Ashtistan

Frederick had surely been able to find the well-hidden safe house through sheer will, effort, and skill.

Among those lovely North Korean informants relishing in their seventy years of division and various other informants from places like China, Russia, Iran, and Syria with their magical talents that mystified the world—what was one or two foreigners he couldn’t handle after wrestling with friends (not really friends) overseas?

Had he been unable to manage even this, he would have either drowned in the kimchi soup served by his field baker or been smacked so hard by his seniors that his bottom would have gone numb.

In that sense, surviving was a proof of strength.

Frederick was truly feeling a chill and heavy sensation in the air for the first time in ages and picked up the “mental adjusting stick” to whack his disoriented junior back into shape.

“Ayla! I told you, if I catch you, you’re done for!”

“Eek!”

“Are you just going to stand there?!”

“W-Why did you bring a stick, you madman?!”

As an information officer suddenly arrived swinging a bat threateningly, the shocked Ayla turned and sprinted for her life in a panic.

Likewise, the aspiring spy was escaping alongside the new civvy.

“Gyaaaaaah!”

Perhaps expecting the baton to come flying toward her or having developed a trauma from past bat incidents, nonetheless, Camila bolted without looking back.

Regardless of it all, Frederick, fully riled up, chased after Ayla, oblivious to any onlookers.

“Damn it, who got me into this mess and why am I here like this!”

“Whaaaaa?”

“Who was the fool that taught you that it was okay to lend your phone and then run off? You’re done!”

Frederick had reverted back to his innocent childhood, as Ayla had unknowingly trailed into an odd game of tag.

The ‘loving stick’ hand-carved by an older brother to guide sleeping students in their learning was no different from a ‘mentor’s grace’ in feeling (unless you got hit hard enough for your skull to split).

Had the elders of the Nostrim family witnessed their well-raised offspring in such a debacle, tears would have blurred their vision, leaving them speechless.

Or they might have collapsed in despair right then and there.

In any case!

“Dammit, you nutcase!”

“Ow…”

Just like the Stasi agents who had their offices raided and ended up getting clubbed on the back at the hands of East German citizens in 1990,

the sister caught by her brother had to endure a sore back and puffed-up cheeks.

“Are you a rabbit? Keep your stupid butt out there! What idiot brought such a foolish child into the ranks? And what? You madman?”

“Buowww!”

“Seriously losing it. What the hell…”

Ayla had words to spare. No, she had tons to say.

Did she want to be here? Just a week ago she’d been happily working in the peaceful Lushan Federation, enjoying her time. The sudden order from her superior to pack her bags and hop aboard a smuggling ship threw her entirely.

Cramped up and squashed in a smuggling ship without understanding why, after two days she had unwittingly become an illegal immigrant by crossing the channel.

After wandering around a country she had never set foot in before, stumbling here and there, she ended up in Ashtistan following her company seniors who gradually joined her.

“Wughh…”

However, the swollen cheeks mumbled colors of gibberish, transforming “Huzmulgur” into garbled sounds, and with her lips stuck, only adorable phrases like “Ububub” (which has no cuteness at all, but Frederick struck her with a light smack for being gross) could escape her so what was she to do?

What could she possibly do about it now?

She had to accept it as her fate.

“Why did you take a perfectly fine Camila? What are you doing here?”

“Umm, let’s put that aside for now… A little…”

Frederick pushed Ayla for an answer, prompting her to hurry.

And soon a voice responded instead.

“For business, actually.”

“…Matt?”

The brother had turned his gaze away from his sister’s puffy cheeks to see Matt, covering the device on the table, and greeting them.

“Long time no see. About four months, right?”

“Something like that… But why are you here, Matt?”

“Well, it just happened this way.”

“……”

The operations officer gestured with his thumb towards the back.

“Let’s talk for a bit.”

*

For those working in intelligence agencies for a long time, losing contact usually wasn’t a grave matter.

Even if they were close colleagues, once departments changed or work locations varied, communication would inevitably dwindle.

Gossip about who got promoted this time or a marriage, death, or other significant events might circulate through whispers here and there. However, for anyone working in intelligence, especially those operating under unofficial disguises, knowing where one is and what they are doing usually avoided scrutiny.

When I unexpectedly reunited with Matt in the heart of Shizuya without so much as a heads-up, it didn’t really surprise me.

After all, he was an operations officer for the Royal Intelligence Department.

Given the Ashtistan Republic was hostile to Abas, Matt’s presence, dedicated to essential intelligence operations, wouldn’t be unusual at all.

We moved to the secluded corner of the building.

“It’s nice to see your face.”

As I greeted him with a smile, he nodded back, reflecting the sentiment.

I rubbed my chin lightly, glancing at him.

“When did you grow that beard?”

“Hmm, maybe two months ago?”

“Right after I left?”

“Pretty much.”

Information officers stationed in Africa and the Middle East sometimes chose to grow beards alongside their male counterparts. In those regions, adult men without facial hair often drew suspicious glances.

Frederick knew this too, having been deployed in the Middle East and Africa once himself.

It felt good to be able to let the beard grow when orders forbade shaving, even thinking he could grow one similar to the foreign kids, but soon realized how itchy it could become.

With wavy strands flowing from his temples down his jaw, as Matt stroked his beard, he raised his eyebrow as if asking, “What do you think?”

“Not matching at all.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious! Go check the mirror.”

“Already know what I look like.”

“Stop with the self-absorption…”

Anyway, it was nice to see him.

The chair situated in a corner of the factory was piled with dust. I brushed the traces of time away and took a seat.

“Whew… Ah, feels cozy. How did you find such a nice place?”

“I secured it personally. I worked here in Shizuya before.”

“Oh, is that so? Good to hear. Let’s grab some food while you’re here. Let’s ship her off to foreign lands quickly.”

I pointed to Ayla, who stood at the end of the line.

“Ugh… It hurts.”

“Are you okay?”

“Paid back all my loans, but they keep getting agitated with me…”

Ayla, clasping her flushed cheeks in despair, sobbed, having long since lost her calm under the tears mixing with sweat and snot.

What was happening? A fresh information officer was behaving slower than a middle-aged man on the verge of 30. This was beyond imaginable.

“Whew…”

Ayla sobbed, pressing her face into her knees, weeping openly.

She was slow. Even her crying moved slowly.

“Who cares? As long as the work’s fine, that’s what matters.”

Despite the amusing plight of my younger compatriot, Matt shrugged nonchalantly. I shot him a bemused glance.

“He’s quite dedicated, really.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen it, but she manages quite well for a newbie, always ranking in the top in training. Isn’t that good for a new recruit?”

“No, what if she ends up causing a disaster?”

“Well, back then everyone was clumsy and prone to mistakes. Understand that.”

“You can say that again if our operation fails because of her. For your info, returns are not an option, so you’ll just have to haul it along.”

That was a polite way of saying, “Don’t expect in solidarity and take your load.” Family ties were cemented in such chaos (unhealthy dynamics).

He might’ve lost his words amidst nonsensical chatter pushing the boundary as Matt briefly hesitated.

“…Is she your sister?”

“I’ve never had such a sibling.”

Just then, from afar, a scream echoed, “I’ve never had such a brother either!”

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, Matt nodded slightly.

“Indeed.”

“I told you I didn’t!”

Joking back and forth, clouds of smoke began to arise.

Matt sat on the dust-laden chair, puffing away at the cigarette I lent him.

The last news I had heard was about the military pursuing a terrorist organization in the Jamria Federation, where remnants of rebels they hadn’t managed to eradicate from when the insurgents were rooted were linked.

After brushing off ashes, I muttered.

“By the way, aren’t you a bit off-timing? The mood here isn’t all that great these days.”

“On the contrary, we should show up the more.”

Matt’s voice dropped, carrying a low gravitas. His usual serious demeanor only amplified while he smoked, resembling an official in authority.

“Well, these chaotic times are often the best for business.”

From weapon trading involving the Law Enforcement Corps to wiretap incidents from the Security Committee, the Ashtistan Republic faced untold challenges from within and outside.

While the media popped champagnes voicing excitement about the dire situations, both the Foreign Affairs and Intelligence Departments agreed there was no immediate threat to the Republic’s stability.

Still, it was predicted that these incidents may lead to heightened scrutiny among the security agencies within Ashtistan.

“Rabda was operated on and is half crippled, but other agencies remain straightforward. Same goes for the Security Corps, and the Republic’s military doesn’t lag either.”

I took a few more breaths of the outdoor air and smoke mixed.

“Since the arms deal was exposed, they’ll be on guard against foreign companies. Was it the ZULUK that we planned to get military support from this time?”

“Liberation Front of Free Zuluk. They’re more aligned with pro-Ashtistan factions. But the monarchists and leftist guerillas are still uncertain.”

“Leftist?”

“Greenskins.”

Ah, talking about Orcs and Goblins.

As the name suggests, they are the Maoists dreaming of petite bourgeois underground movements. Of course, being biologically nonhuman, it isn’t proper to call them ‘-ists’ but still.

They form quite the collective well.

They criticize and link the political structures on the Mauritania Continent to feudalism while also labeling foreign corporations’ agricultural investments as exploitative akin to colonial empires.

Had Mao Zedong heard this, he would have exclaimed, “What nonsense?” and burst out of his portrait laid direct in Tiananmen Square, but nobody cared.

After all, the essence of Maoism is somewhat separate from orthodox communism-socialism too. (The Soviet Union cursed China as pseudo-revolutionary. And, of course, China blasted the Soviets as revisionists while being called hypocrites.)

“Hmm…”

Suddenly tasting bitterness as I thought it through, Matt, dusting off the ashes, gave me a curious look, raising his head.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, just thinking it might be interesting to try and play around with ideologies here.”

“Ideologies? Like what?”

“Um, ‘Juche’ comes to mind…”

Inspired by images of North Korean spies drumming up NK-Christianity for remote third-world residents (who are oddly on the internet), I don’t know.

Honestly, proposing the horrifying hybrid of socialism and Christianity that would horrify his grandfather Frederick, a field operations officer, or his father, a North Korea specialist, was no laughing matter.

Had it been possible, the grandson/son, who had changed his nationality before switching to cheesepizza ecaulizizing, would’ve been disowned by now.

After all, three generations served in intelligence agencies with his father as a senior intelligence officer. If one were to tarnish their family name, to milk the national service, they would have stripped him of his uniform and kicked him out.

Offering prayers while attempting to remain calm and behaving properly would suffice.

“…In any case, I’m sure you’ll be careful of being caught so let me keep this first.”

With that, as I turned to the topic at hand.

“What brought you to Shizuya?”

“……”

“What’s brought Camila to you anyway?”

Matt’s gaze surveyed the area. More specifically, he was watching the people.

The safe house laid bare, like a vast desert, stood stark. The outside rusted and stained with incomplete construction, while the interior contained only cold concrete, deepening the gloom. Leaning against a pillar sensing the chilly aura, he scanned concerned faces quietly.

The two people observed the blinding light, ostensibly observing silence as well.

“……”

While Matt scrutinized the faces of the information officers, Frederick steadfastly avoided looking away. Side-eyeing into the corner, he noticed two people whispering, both gazing in the same direction, which raised suspicion.

Instead, he noticed a scattered shard of glass laying behind a factory, affording him a reflection of what’s around.

“I’m looking for someone.”

After a while of silence, Matt casually pretended to brush off ash before speaking up.

“Someone?”

“To be precise, it’s about finding a mole.”

“……”

Frederick’s expression instantly stiffened.

“Where from?”

“Us.”

“Inspection?”

“Lost them.”

Rumors of a double agent found within the Royal Intelligence Department had been wrought. It was not as simple; remarks about having fled overseas due to being neglected by inspection were also daunting.

This was a colossal blunder.

“Oh crap, seriously? So that’s why you’re here?”

“Indeed.”

Sighing involuntarily,

The timing couldn’t be worse, showing up during chaos.

“A week prior, an unwholesome communication was intercepted. A retired diplomat was caught chatting with a person of the Empire, leaking secrets. This individual was someone he had known during his time at the consulate, presumed to be a honey trap from headquarters.”

The sparks flared once again. The operations officer lowered his voice further.

“However, during the conversation, there were mentions regarding the Magic Tower operations and a few other things.”

“Weren’t business details supposed to be known only to companies? The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Finance only received rough outlines.”

“Sure, those ministers had an inkling that the company aimed to overthrow Oracle.”

“The executives don’t know?”

“Ministers barely know the specifics; how would the secretaries be any wiser? How many even know what’s going on inside the firm?”

“Well, that makes sense.”

“The trouble is, the individuals who can access those specifics tend to be of high ranks, and it appeared someone at that level leaked the business data.”

“……”

“Now this fellow fled with tremendous haste. In the twilight of his achievements, the moment one contact was caught, he rushed away fearing discovery.”

An operative he had hired to elude tracking got caught, and the double agent, fearing exposure, hastily escaped overseas.

What a sharp mind. This was why I held those perceptive recruits in contempt.

Okay then, I got the general idea of what was going on.

“Hmm… If he left in a hurry, he must have left some traces behind. There’d be no time for him to eliminate evidence. Was he taking his pension along?”

“From the day of apprehension, we’ve examined the employees who exported that sensitive information, identifying a few suspicions.”

“He even managed to take his severance pay on top of this.”

This is getting ridiculous.

As I brushed my hair back, murmuring to myself, I suddenly received a reminder it wasn’t the time to be worried about others.

“You shouldn’t lose it so early.”

“Why? Do I know them?”

“The last thing he wanted to carry with him is your retirement fund. Those officials will likely value your worth the most.”

“…What kind of officials are you talking about?”

Matt, in a calm tone, answered.

“The Kien Empire.”

At that moment,

As if thunder struck, his booming voice reverberated in my ears, sending throttling shockwaves through my body from nerves to spinal cord, propelling me up in pain that felt like an 18-inch hammer pounding into my skull!

“What the hell?!”

Thus, even at 30, I leaped up off my seat, utterly unable to suppress an exclamation!