A Dark Fantasy Spy

---

When the edge of the horizon sparkles in three colors, the delicate lights cast down from the great tree swayed like waves, rippling grandly.

On the shadow cast by the road, Camila was stomping her feet like a child. She couldn’t even wait for a brief moment at the signal, yearning to dash across the crosswalk immediately.

“Um, can I ask something? Is that okay?”

The innocent voice of the girl stirred curiosity, drawing the gaze of those around back to her.

“What else are you curious about?”

I asked while adjusting my tie and shirt.

“You said earlier you were here to look at a new house. But I’m perceptive, you know? From the atmosphere, it seems something went wrong.”

“……”

“The professor is here in Ashtistan for recovery, and both I and Frederick are accompanying him. But that uncle who looks like Thanos isn’t here just for fun, right? Not to mention Ms. Ayla.”

The prelude was long.

Though I knew she liked to talk, this prolonged introduction surely was not just meant for some idle philosophical musings.

I told her to tell me what’s going on these days. And with a puzzled look, Camila pushed the main topic toward me.

“Tell me the reason. The real reason. What are you planning at the hotel, and what’s your purpose in bringing me here, Frederick?”

Aren’t we colleagues? Aren’t we in the same boat?

When Camila, adding that, gave me a bright smile, I set my hand down from caressing my watchband and looked toward the crosswalk.

“……”

The sensation of the buckle that had risen to my knuckles felt somewhat unfamiliar. As if to revive the sense of touching the Go stones left long ago by a knight, I slowly rolled the insurance file card between my fingers.

Camila did not rush for an answer.

She simply stood there, gazing at my side profile.

Silence hung over us, and for a while, we halted our steps. Even as the green light flickered, urging everyone forward, we remained in the same place.

“……”

While I silently stared at the blinking green light, I finally broke the heavy silence and turned to her.

“Camila.”

“Yes?”

“If I ask you to do one thing, will you come along with me?”

—

Episode 20 – Who Threatened with a Knife?

Frederick’s visit to Ashtistan is officially a proven fact. He boldly crossed the border with an Abas passport, right in front of the eyes of the world press.

Countless speculations arose regarding this.

Some noted that he was involved in the counter-coup of the Jamria Federation and highlighted that he was a Defense Attaché from a renowned bureaucrat family of the upper class.

Abas Kingdom has been showing a great interest in the political situation on the Mauritania Continent, which is a stated fact.

Being the second son of the Nostrim family, which could be considered a vassal, there were speculations suggesting he had entered Shizuya in a clandestine manner.

This intriguing hypothesis thickened with numerous shreds of evidence and conjectures.

The Archmage, long known for maintaining a non-discipleship rule for over 100 years, bestowed teachings in his twilight years. What melted the cold heart of the archmage, as frigid as the winter winds of the frozen ground, was the lovely girl.

It is widely known that the attaché was decorated with the Imperial Medal for his accolades earned in the north alongside the girl.

Furthermore, it was acknowledged, albeit reluctantly, even by the lofty bureaucrats of the Empire, that the five-year-long Kien-Majia conflict was brought to an end thanks to direct and indirect support from the Abas Kingdom.

Thus, it could be speculated that the lord of the northern territory, wishing to express gratitude, was not merely recommending the attaché for an accolade but was personally aiming to ameliorate the chilly relations between the Abas Kingdom and the Republic of Ashtistan.

Perhaps the Empire, tired of endless military competitions, could use the Kien-Majia conflict to purge old grievances.

And once again, Shizuya, which was once an alliance between the two nations, might become a stepping stone toward “Détente.”

The truth of the matter is unclear, but one thing was evident.

More people than I expected grew weary of the competitive system between the Kien Empire and the Abas Kingdom. The expectations for a détente harbored in their hearts began to be expressed through the media.

According to the judgment of the respective governments, this was the case.

In reality, even a fool, absolutely unable to read the room, would soon realize that the atmosphere was unusual. To accentuate, requests for the Chancellor of Kien and the Prime Minister of Abas to “kiss” were ringing out openly.

Especially the third-world allies, who had been sucking the honey between the two nations, could hardly contain their glee.

This was the reason the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ staff were hastily exchanging telegrams and the eldest daughter of the Nostrim household, plagued by overtime work, became the talk of the town, leaving a ‘sister, I’m struggling…’ remote message for her younger sibling.

Of course, many in both countries were largely indifferent to such favorable winds. Ekaterina was among those.

The Imperial Guard HQ always existed to protect the imperial family and bring glory, for the stability and prosperity of the Empire; she was the vanguard of the Empire.

Like other swords and shields, she bore a continuous suspicion toward the news coming from Shizuya.

“……”

In that sense, the landscape before her was not only absurd but somewhat disappointing.

Raising her aghast face, Ekaterina silently observed the loud and boisterous figures.

“The atmosphere isn’t bad.”

“Right? See, I told you~~ There’s no better place to relax than here. Unlike I was worried, they even sell swimsuits!”

“I was a bit anxious since I couldn’t prepare anything, but thank goodness. It’s a bit disappointing that they give change in Ashtistan currency after taking foreign currency… this expensive price… I didn’t expect this.”

“Aw~ But since it suits you, right?!”

Frederick Nostrim and Camila Lowell appeared at the Mandala Spa. Their presence was an element not anticipated by Ekaterina.

No, to be strictly honest, she had considered it.

Just as she had settled down in Ashtistan and was in the midst of planning operations, she suspected the attaché, who had caused trouble back in Petrogard, would somehow intervene.

The operation to capture the advisor’s family, who attempted to defect to Abas, had failed precisely because that attaché was on the move.

Though she had resigned herself to the skeptical gazes of the staff of the 6th Department and Kiril’s reluctance, Ekaterina had unconsciously kept an eye on his movements.

It might seem somewhat paranoid. There have been instances where her superior, Director Ilya, had scolded her on this matter before.

Specifically, it was around last year, when he stated, “Our Ministry of Foreign Affairs should instead reprimand the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I won’t go as far as holding anyone accountable, but this matter seems too excessive to me.”

“I was told to ‘cool my head and come back,’ and was shuffled to a subordinate position in the regional department for a while, but the Director brought her back to be in charge of investigations in the capital regarding the escalation with the Majia tribe.”

Ekaterina viewed this as a warning. The now non-threatening Defense Attaché was to be disregarded, and she was to confront the “real threat.”

While the Director offered no explicit advice, she understood.

After all, she resumed duties right after the northern conflict concluded.

Had she not understood the implications of her reinstatement following the Defense Attaché’s departure for Kien, the Director would never have sent her back to the capital.

No, she likely would not have been allowed into the Guard HQ at all if she had been serving in the Military Intelligence Bureau beforehand. The individual who wrote her the recommendation was Director Ilya himself.

Ekaterina, who had briefly forgotten and was trying to forget her opposing side, now watched him closely.

“How do you like this? I had some trouble finding something I liked. Does it suit me?”

With hair flowing like vibrant roses and flames, the woman spun around, showcasing a body that could not find fault even in Ekaterina’s eyes.

Camila twirled once more, brightening the atmosphere as a splendid smile shone under the lights, and applause could be heard amid the blossoming waves.

“Ah, um, oh…”

The attaché, wearing a smirk, could hardly take his eyes off the woman showing off her swimwear. His foolish grin was almost a byproduct.

In disbelief, Ekaterina could not help but question whether this was indeed the same man who had escaped a dangerous chase through the core of the imperial city.

Seriously, what kind of diplomat behaves like this?

“Um, um…. Looks, looks good?”

“Really? Thank goodness! Hehe.”

Ekaterina found herself aghast watching the man who was supposed to embody the heroic figure, scratching his head while admiring the alluring figure.

The delicate game of chase that began at the holy ground of the Lateran was now extending its shadows to the sanctum of Al-Yabd in Shizuya.

Whether it was coincidence or fate, in Ekaterina’s memory, Frederick typically existed in only two forms.

No matter how she ruminated over her memories, she could not find an instance where he was so utterly smitten with a woman in a swimsuit (for reference, Ekaterina recalled the myth of someone who fell into the water after glancing at their reflection in a fountain).

“Frederick, have you ever tried using the banyas?”

When Camila asked, Frederick shook his head in denial.

“I studied it in foreign culture courses at the Academy, but I’ve never actually been.”

“I’ll show you! I tried it a few times when I vacationed in Russia!”

Unlike when she boldly entered as if it were her own home, she now seemed to be trying to conceal her embarrassment.

It fit with the facts. He had never been to the Empire, and the only time he had visited was to participate in the northern conflict, so there was nothing unusual about his attitude.

In contrast, the hero was confidently dragging the attaché by the arm with a bold declaration.

Although Ekaterina didn’t know what Russia was, it was a scene from which she could momentarily infer the nature of the relationship between the two.

“Over here.”

The hero had almost embraced the attaché’s arm, resembling a mother holding a child swathed in a bundle.

She even began whispering sweet nothings as they chatted.

At this point, one couldn’t help but contemplate a romantic relationship. But as far as she remembered, there hadn’t been any such information. All she had were whispers about them being friendlier than other colleagues.

Ekaterina continued to observe the attaché and the hero as they entered the sauna.

The two seemed to be engaging in conversation both before entering and afterward.

—

“Don’t be nervous and act naturally.”

With Camila’s arms wrapped around him, her voice grew quieter.

Wearing a transparent smile, she scanned the surroundings with her eyes.

“Do you know who the dangerous person is?”

“…A bit.”

Frederick answered with a stern expression. Although his face appeared unremarkable, Camila quickly detected a subtle difference.

With her body leaning into his, Frederick opened his mouth in a way that seemed as usual.

“There’s an Ashtistani man holding a lighter at three o’clock. He’s been watching us since we walked in.”

“And?”

“At nine, now moving to eight, there are some shady-looking folks.”

“Anything else?”

“There’s a woman leaning against the pool. I’m not sure, but… she occupies a position that can see the entire area, making it an ideal spot for surveillance.”

Camila smiled softly.

Feigning to tie her hair, she naturally turned her head to throw glances at three o’clock, eight o’clock, and the pool. The crowd, presumably locals, appeared to be college kids who loved to party and drink heavily.

The man at three o’clock was a peculiar one. Though all that was visible was his back while he was ostensibly shaving, the reflection in the mirror captured the entire scene of the spa behind him.

As for the woman by the pool, her intentions remained unclear. The choice of position was suspect for surveillance, but if she had chosen that spot to leisurely enjoy the pool, it would seem foolish to suspect a stranger. Besides, she might have just come out of the sauna and was taking a break.

While turning the string, Camila asked softly:

“Is there someone who’s definitely suspicious?”

Frederick shook his head. His gesture indicated that one couldn’t conclusively label them as watchers.

“What about the person we’re looking for?”

“In room three at five o’clock. I saw him hiding there.”

Frederick, who responded in a low voice, turned his attention elsewhere as Camila’s brows knitted, struggling to tie her hair at five o’clock.

Just then, someone passed by the window of the banya with the number ‘3’ written in Persian numerals.

“…Confirmed.”

Camila turned back to Frederick, crossing her arms and smiling brightly.

Suddenly, a sensation of embarrassment or confusion surged through her, but when she tightly grasped Frederick’s arm, the commotion quickly faded.

The two entered the room naturally.

Through the window, a glimpse of dark hair and a figure moving around was visible. As a man who had been standing awkwardly stepped aside, Camila’s face came into view, already seated.

She gently tapped the seat beside her as if inviting him to sit, saying something. Though only her back was visible, it was clear Frederick was gesturing in refusal while shaking his head vigorously.

“……”

The man in room three. Zigmund, who had been glancing at the opposite room, rose from his stooping position by the window.

“If he marries, he’ll be trapped.”

He had no hobby of spying on others.

Yet just as he had been cautious, the very target he had been wary of had now appeared in the same space.

Zigmund uttered a rather bland observation.

“Why did the Hero come to this place… to draw in the head of the family? Or perhaps for leisure?”

Though he suspected the man was an information officer, his sudden appearance was too unexpected.

To be honest, it felt utterly out of the blue.

Hadn’t the meeting place been changed? The memo left by the Royal Intelligence Department clearly indicated a new rendezvous.

What could the Military Intelligence Agency Executive be doing here? Could the military be acting separately, straying from what was anticipated? Or perhaps they were aiding the Royal Intelligence Department?

“Hehehehe-”

“Hehe!”

The laughter emanating from Frederick and Camila, just stepping out of the banya, caught Zigmund’s attention.

With an arm draped around the woman’s neck, he laughed boisterously at whatever amused him. However, it became quite apparent that his hand was utuilizing an unusually blatant position.

Zigmund averted his gaze as if he had seen something unsightly, making a grimace.

What sort of behavior was this in a public space?

“There’s certainly a limit to reckless conduct.”

Of course, among information officers, there were those who sometimes acted in such a manner.

Those who flaunted their depravity and promiscuity, as if to boast their libertine qualities.

While most were indeed categorically deficient, now and then, there were impostors among them.

There were characters who would feign such scandalous behavior and reckless indulgence for months or years as a mere ruse.

Frederick Nostrim was likely the latter.

Despite having served in various regions, reports of him being entangled in any alcohol or gambling issues were absent.

Though there were occasional reports suggesting he might have indulged in drinking, it was nothing beyond that.

Unlike other attaches, he did not hover around social clubs.

Though it frequently circulated that some junior officers lost their salaries in betting games, Frederick Nostrim’s name was never mentioned even once.

Was he virtuous?

Zigmund didn’t agree with that perspective.

He doesn’t frequent bars.

He has no debts to others.

He may have his own forms of enjoyment or hobbies.

However, he did not pursue social activities to find companionship, regardless of whether it was for leisure or drink.

At least, he had no history of romantic pursuits.

Even esteemed priests in the cult would sometimes succumb to temptations, but amid all his subordinate’s “murmuring” romantic escapades, one could only wonder what he had been up to.

Of course, the Frederick Nostrim who was now parading about Mandala Spa showed absolutely no signs of hesitance in approaching women.

Consequently, that raised further suspicions.

“How very peculiar. Quite strange.”

From Zigmund’s observations, it seemed Frederick Nostrim was, at least, not the extraordinary figure one might expect to be seen accompanied by a woman in a public space.

If his nature was such that it warranted a frown, it would mean Zigmund’s judgment was incorrect.

However, if this was indeed a performance, he would find himself appreciating the deceptively casual audacity he exhibited, one that seemed as inherent as his nature.

“……”

He couldn’t take his eyes off them for a while. The woman subtly grasped the fingers coiled around her shoulder then began to lean more into her companion.

Gradually, the man instinctively pulled her closer against him.

Zigmund noted the couple exiting the spa, and just before the door closed, he distinctly remembered the brown eyes that locked onto him from the gap.

It was hard to describe what he felt, but somehow he understood.

My expectations were indeed correct.

It’s him.

—

“Domoboy.”

Ekaterina approached. When the unexpected variable vanished for a moment, she did not fail to seize this moment.

“If what I think matches your ‘gift,’ I would strongly advise you to fold. Let’s leave Shizuya.”

While Kiril kept watch behind her.

Seeking Zigmund, she urgently recommended his immediate departure, further adding:

“You won’t be able to handle it alone. Not even if it’s you.”

“Why do you think that?”

Ekaterina, with her arms crossed, wore a somewhat irritated expression. Indicating the direction the two had just left, she spoke.

“It means those you absolutely do not wish to encounter have entered Shizuya. Be it abduction or something else. The fact that he has shown up here is not good news for you at all.”

Of course, it wasn’t good for her either.

Just thinking about it was stressful, as he appeared alongside vanishing individuals who had either disappeared into the sky or slipped through the ground—just like the family of that advisor who had gone missing.

Such misfortune should never occur again. At least, not to jeopardize her plans because of that one man would be preferable for Ekaterina.

“Frederick Nostrim is very well aware of who I am. He knows better than anyone how dire my situation is.”

“Yet you still refuse to relent?”

“There’s no solid evidence, is there? Proof that he is a threat to me.”

Zigmund pointed his finger into the void, as if indicating Frederick, who was not present in this space.

“The Royal Intelligence Department must be keeping an eye on me. They’d be aware of the existence of a traitor—if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. However, since they understand, they won’t let me remain idle. Perhaps the military might even be probing into my affairs.”

“……”

“But you misjudge me if you think I’ve come here without considering the potential risks.”

He firmly established that he would not depart from Ashtistan without concrete evidence. If he received credible information, he would be expected to act on it accordingly.

Zigmund seemed to harbor confidence but Ekaterina did not easily come to a conclusion.

After all, he was a person who had deceived the Imperial Guard HQ before.

Thus, she gave a warning.

“Put aside foolish thoughts and refrain from reckless gambling. This is my final advice to you.”

“You are quite harsh.”

“Don’t forget to come for tea.”

“What time?”

“At midnight. Sharp at twelve.”

For a moment, his expression dimmed.

Ekaterina quietly remarked.

“You might need cleaning afterward, so keep that in mind.”

“…Understood. I shall heed your counsel.”

Zigmund, with a contemptuous smile, passed by her, exiting room three. Although there were about fifteen minutes left in his timed session, no one would find it suspicious if he left now.

This did not sit well with her.

His unnecessarily defensive and peremptory demeanor, along with that haughty tone, irritated her. All of this was unacceptable in a situation where the stakes were unclear.

“Ekaterina. Did Domoboy…?”

“He just left.”

Kiril returned to the spa, scanning the surroundings while briefing her about the outside situation.

“It seems both of them are likely to return soon. When I looked, they were ordering a bunch of food. Who knows how they’ll finish all of that?”

“……”

“Shall we get going? To monitor Domoboy, we may need to assist the 6th Department members, I think.”

Ekaterina paused in thought for a moment.

“Kiril, call for the operations team stationed at the border.”

“When for?”

“Right now. Immediately.”

Even if everything went perfectly, it would still take over twenty hours to travel from the closest border to Shizuya. Assuming they drove non-stop.

The thought bubbled up her throat, claiming it was impossible, but…

“I have a bad feeling that Domoboy is about to make a move. If there’s a traffic accident, I might have to forcefully pull him out.”

With a heavy expression murmuring, Kiril let out a short sigh.

Just as the thought of a decent route crossed his mind.

“I’ll try to make it by today. I’ll aim to shorten it to under five hours.”

While it meant more legwork for him, as long as he timed it right, it shouldn’t be too late. That, of course, also required the force team to arrive on time.

—

The watchers dispatched by the Imperial Guard HQ trailed Zigmund like shadows.

They discreetly emerged from a tucked alley after exchanging a small gift with a hotel employee.

Despite the extensive retirement of royal secret police, they had not lost their experience.

The dull atmosphere of Shizuya’s alleys hadn’t changed since their active days.

To shake his tail, Zigmund had to take some effort.

“…3, 6.”

On the darkened walkway, two watchers were on him.

A man crossed the road next to him, maintaining a brisk pace.

Twenty meters directly behind, there was another man leisurely strolling.

Two-person surveillance teams were standard. One matched pace beside the target, while the other quietly followed from behind.

Generally, people tend to suspect the first follower trailing behind them when they sense they are being followed, for that is the standard of espionage.

Even if the first identifier’s cover was blown, one wouldn’t notice the second observer keeping a watchful eye from across the street.

Thus, once an individual perceives an incessant tail, their focus narrows solely onto the one behind them.

Zigmund was now running through the secret police’s manual from memory.

With the established sounds of footsteps gradually approaching him, he felt the tug of discomfort.

Seeing the duo increase from two to three indicated more of the surveillance team was joining him.

Considering the distance from the hotel, vehicle surveillance groups would likely have arrived as well.

The secret police’s techniques were all too predictable.

“The vehicle surveillance team exchanges their members with the individual identified, while the disembarking watcher fills in for the on-foot surveillance, ensuring a seamless transition back into the fray. The third watcher should be resurfacing now.”

Zigmund advanced slowly, ensuring he maintained just enough distance not to get caught.

The pursuer seemed to grow anxious, as there were no civilians in the straight walking path.

Having only just arrived at a block, he turned off into an alley without hesitation.

After meandering about half a block further…

Standing at the crosswalk, Zigmund naturally shifted his gaze. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

“…3 is missing.”

The watcher should have shown up by now. Zigmund glanced around the road he saw but couldn’t spot the disappeared third.

With a relaxed wait, he crossed the crosswalk.

While he kept observing the one who had been shadowing him all along, he also kept close attention to the new individual presenting themselves.

At an impeccably appropriate timing—one that brought not a single hint of surprise—it was the gold standard of surveillance.

A transparently transparent scheme, to put it mildly.

“Where could the missing third be? At a high-rise? There aren’t any overpasses here, so perhaps they’ve chosen a tall building to watch from there.”

Based on Zigmund’s deductions, it was most likely the eight-story apartment complex situated to the south.

High ground, lower buildings surrounding it, and wastefully sprawling urban scenarios.

If he were a watcher, there would’ve been no better vantage point than that south apartment complex. Yet Zigmund also weighed alternative possibilities.

“In a situation where the destination remains ambiguous, blindly taking a high ground would be a risky call. If I were being tracked and attempted to flee, it would create a dead spot for reuniting with comrades.”

Zigmund reached into his pocket and withdrew a notebook, elegantly pulling out a map that he had preserved meticulously.

As the floating lights of arcane magic illuminated the water-resistant map, a flicker of Shizuya’s landscape began to project.

With a furtive glance at the map, he finished tidying all his belongings.

He now needed to determine where the third would be lying in wait, and whether there was a site fit to throw off the pursuers from the Imperial Guard HQ.

He drew up a conclusive notion.

-Bang bang bang!

At the main road leading underground, through the staircase, he passed through the ticket gate where a fierce wind howled into the subterranean station.

Zigmund boarded the night-time subway. It did not matter whether it was headed north or south, or where it would stop.

All that mattered was boarding any random car of the first train that arrived and discern the Imperial Guard HQ agents trailing behind him.

“……”

In the quiet rumble of the subway, Zigmund kept a close eye on the other passengers. At the moment, he knew his opportunity would grant him only one chance.

As the arrival announcement blared across the speaker, the crowd began to disperse towards the exit. So did Zigmund, blending into the flow.

The watchers began squeezing through the throng of people, steadily approaching him. Anchored by the secret police’s typical workflow, they’d aim to close in within ten meters.

Zigmund understood why they were encroaching upon him.

Twenty meters offered the barest minimum to ensure that the sound of footsteps wouldn’t reach the target’s ears. Ten meters allowed their observers to remain hidden amid bustling crowds.

Those tactics were undeniably drilled into their minds.

After all, Zigmund had taught their instructors his methods.

“Excuse me, my bad.”

“…!”

Zigmund struck the first agent who approached him.

When bumped by an incidental arm, the agent’s head turned aside, revealing his jaw, which Zigmund instinctively struck with a powerful blow.

For a moment, he thought about pulling out his knife, but having a casualty would complicate matters for both him and the Imperial Guard HQ. Thus, it was sufficed to merely knock the agent out.

With a loud thud, the downed agent toppled, crashing into others nearby and causing a domino effect of fallen bystanders, collapsing at least seven or eight people.

The subway station quickly erupted into chaos, with people fussing over others, some asking if they were okay, while others wondered who had stumbled.

In that brief moment of panic, people found themselves immobilized, trapped within the commotion.

“What the hell? Where did that guy go?”

“Check the restroom! You and I will search the underground mall! The rest, patrol the concourse and the outside!”

“Sh*t… Hurry up. Check to see if any personnel has disappeared.”

Agents under the directives of the Imperial Guard HQ’s Sixth Bureau quickly scattered in pursuit of him.

In the frenzied throng, they began methodically hunting for Zigmund.

-Whoosh…

Smoke seeped through the iron gate leading to the upper ground.

—

Over the past three hours, Zigmund had experienced enough challenges that he considered daunting.

Like a child seeking the last puzzle piece, he traversed the streets.

Shaking off the tail from the Imperial Guard HQ, clandestinely contacting informants while scraping together his savings to prepare adequately.

With no certainty of whether today marked the end of a long journey or the onset of a new chapter, he could say that he faced significant losses in the lengthy process of sorting himself out.

Among them was also the folding knife that he left behind.

Once a reliable comrade who’d veered off into difficulties and worn down to exhaustion, now he carried burdens of a rugged life.

The relationships birthed in the Republic of Ashtistan had traveled across Mauritania and the globe, ultimately culminating back in the Republic of Ashtistan.

Zigmund took one last drink and a few smokes at his beloved old pub.

Now, all he had left were his lifelong keepsakes – a notebook, the map, and the worn-out rotary phone bought from a peddler.

He gathered everything together.

The precise moment arrived.

He showed up at the subway station designated by the Royal Intelligence Department. As the last operating line drew near, the platform was already as desolate as he’d expected.

There, he met the liaison from the Royal Intelligence Department.

“Cough… cough.”

Clearing his throat with effort, the liaison appeared to be an Ashtistani local, seemingly indistinguishable among the locals.

After exiting the subway ride, the liaison plopped down on a bench, lost in thought for a moment before getting up and leaving.

Zigmund picked up the magazine the liaison had left behind, flipping through it like someone searching for engaging crossword puzzles.

There was an address.

A new meeting spot.

Someone had left a hasty note with the penmanship of a child, indicating a road near the final stop, pointing towards a specific date. Instantly, Zigmund recognized that date as the anniversary of his wedding.

He slipped the ring onto his ring finger. The magazine was disposed of carefully to avoid it being traced back to him.

The last subway now arrived.

Zigmund stepped aboard.

—

At the same time that the idiot informant from the Sixth Bureau grumbled about having lost sight of their target, Ekaterina remained in the Mandala Spa.

“…Let’s go.”

Kiril tried to usher her out, as one of the teammates of the First Bureau.

“I need to find Domoboy. It’s impossible for the Sixth Bureau members to handle it alone. They can’t track him down just by themselves. Until the operations team arrives, we need to intervene.”

“……”

“The Director wants an explanation from you too.”

To clarify, it was not just any simple explanation.

Director Ilya demanded a counterplan. A way to bring back Zigmund, who had knocked out the agent and slipped away.

With permission granted from higher-ups that “more or less, force may be utilized,” Zigmund was no longer a person to be handled with care.

Kiril continued, “You’re correct that the operations team will soon arrive. They’ll head straight to the site as soon as they touch down. While the Sixth Bureau prepares, we must locate Domoboy.”

Ekaterina made no reply.

She remained perfectly silent.

“…Are you listening?”

Kiril waved his palm in front of her face, but she showed no response. Had she shut down in a stand-up posture?

When he sensed something odd, he lightly prodded her, yet still, no reaction came.

Other teammates would rather be jabbed by their very best friends than have their body touched.

In her current state, Kiril couldn’t help but think she was mentally derailed.

Just then, Ekaterina monotonously said,

“Kiril, you watch them. I’ll chase after Domoboy.”

“Who? The Hero and the Attaché?”

The liaison officer of the First Bureau gestured toward where Frederick and Camila were engaged in cheerful laughter and banter.

Whether they were lovers or just close friends, the two were stuck together and merrily teasing one another, an all too suspect pairing that even Kiril couldn’t overlook.

What kind of man could be so effeminate with a woman in such a way?

Surely, the valiant companion of the Hero couldn’t be a homosexual. Kiril, though not a religious man himself, found the idea downright blasphemous if true. He could hardly allow such wretched thoughts to cross his mind, wishing to cast them away.

“What’s with those people? They look like they’re just here to have fun.”

There was no significance in Kiril’s insouciance, yet as Ekaterina retorted, her brows narrowed.

“There’s a banya over there too. There’s no reason for them to come all the way here.”

“Hmmm… If that’s the case, it’s indeed strange, but they might not have come just because of Domoboy.”

While he rambled alone, Kiril found himself on the receiving end of Ekaterina’s inquisitive look.

What her expression seemed to convey was, “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just, think about it. After the recent wiretap incident, there’s also the Grand Duke’s presence. Maybe they wanted to sneak away from the banya at their hotel.”

“…Avoiding the Grand Duke to meet in secret? Is that what you’re trying to imply?”

“I think if they were doing this in front of him, someone would eventually notice.”

Right at that moment…

As if sensing something was amiss, Ekaterina poised herself, her gaze lowering at the pool where the figure emerged.

SPLASH! As she erupted from the water, she told her companion,

“Follow me. Tell the Sixth Bureau to contact Domoboy by any means necessary.”

“What’s with the sudden urge?”

Striding purposely out of the spa, Ekaterina furrowed her brow, responding with a voice thick with nuance.

“I have a sinister inclination about this.”