The branch of Blasphemia comes in various forms.
From the ordinary type with a paper company to operate under, to warehouses disguised to house various supplies without raising suspicion, storing weapons and confiscated contraband.
Interestingly, there’s also a traveling troupe. They even disguise themselves as a guild of troubleshooters or service unions to easily access rumors in the underworld.
Out of all these, I preferred the warehouse branch.
It was easy to loot. When I was on the run, breaking into a warehouse could get me a week’s worth of supplies.
However, the ‘branch’ that Niobe guided me to was quite different from what I knew.
“Is this really the place?”
“Yeah! Just wait here.”
It’s been three days since I left Etna City. I found myself at a deserted station on abandoned tracks.
The train, powered by a magic engine utilizing a Mage Tower Core and magic stones, plays a significant role in the large-scale logistics transport of this world. The biggest reason is, of course, the Extra-dimensional Magic.
Extra-dimensional Magic erodes beings unable to wrap themselves in some form of Extraordinary Ability Field, including Magic Power or Fighting Spirit.
Even entities surrounded by the field can be eroded if they exhaust their abilities. But even a newly awakened primitive mage could hold out for a week outside the city.
In unusual situations, like high-risk areas where the boundary with extra dimensions blurs, it becomes a different story. In such neighborhoods, it’s common to see crazed entities like murder squirrels or boulders that are eroded by extra dimensions charging around.
To prevent such scenarios of inanimate objects and living beings going berserk, the Great Temple is established in cities.
The Great Temple purifies Extra-dimensional Magic, converting it into a power source while spreading the Magic Field to prevent pollution within the city.
Thus, the Great Temple is vital for humanity’s right to survive, and movement between cities usually involves several mages coming together.
Most members of the Vicada Traveling Troupe were primitive mages for the same reason. Those who can’t resist the Extra-dimensional Magic seeping into their bodies become mindless mutations.
Now, here’s the problem. How do you prevent contamination of mass-produced goods that don’t inherently possess Magic Power, unless they’re rare items made of special materials?
Do you special-package each item using magic stones? Do mages imbue magic? Neither option seems feasible economically.
So, the invention of the Magic Engine Train came about. It’s a train that uses the Mage Tower Core as a power source. From a functional standpoint, you could say it’s a moving Great Temple.
If shrinking the Mage Tower Core is difficult, then why not just create a massive transport vehicle for large-scale shipping?
Surely, it must be an unused track, yet I can hear the vroom of a train approaching from afar.
“Look, over there!”
Niobe was undoubtedly pointing at the approaching Magic Engine Train.
‘These guys.’
They still have plenty of money. I’ve stolen so much already.
I felt a deep sense of envy towards Blasphemia, who proudly lived a wealthy life while being a secret organization.
*
Nardanit, the person in charge of the Magic Engine Train of Blasphemia’s mobile branch Charlotte, frowned.
“A returnee.”
A man appeared on the train’s CCTV next to Charlotte. His image appeared somewhat blurry, likely due to an interference phenomenon from wearing an artifact.
A suspicious report transmitted by K17, who had returned from a mission. A notification about finding a lost agent from the previous generation.
Lost? What a ridiculous phrase.
A few years ago, while Blasphemia was engaged in a battle with its greatest enemy, most of its elite agents were summoned. If he just returned now, he probably wasn’t capable of fighting in that war or was just a coward hiding in fear.
Despite the current policy allowing those making various excuses to return to be accepted, it all felt absurd.
Underachievers and cowards. The unlucky few who happened to go through what was reported with a very low probability.
Nardanit hoped he wasn’t the third group among those three. Loyalists trying to return to Blasphemia after several years only became hindrances.
*
As I boarded the train, a green light swept over my body. It was a procedure to check if my muscle tissue underwent Blasphemia’s unique modifications.
There was no warning sound or red lights flashing, suggesting Divius’s skills were perfect.
‘It’s a mobile branch in the form of a train. I knew about this beforehand, but they really have a lot of money.’
It made sense. If they could transport large supplies, it also meant they could transport large numbers of people. They could quickly deploy personnel or supply them with goods.
Thinking back to the airship Karsia and I saw while wandering the desert, operating a Magic Engine Train was child’s play.
“This is quite a unique branch. Did you train here?”
“No? This is where I was first assigned right after graduating from the training facility. The Charlotte branch is said to be established to facilitate tracking itineraries as there are many wanderers among followers of superstition.”
I counted the number of rooms in each train car. It seemed that most were dispatched outside since I couldn’t sense much presence.
“Conductor. So that means the branch head is in the engine room!”
I figured that if she was at the front of the train, she should also have access to databases and other storage devices for communication with the Blasphemia headquarters.
Without showing any complicated feelings, I naturally followed Niobe’s lead.
Knock. Knock.
“Branch Head? K17 has returned from her mission. Together with one lost agent.”
“Come in.”
Niobe’s appearance while formally reporting her mission was vastly different from the impression I previously had of her as an oblivious kid.
From a hopeful candidate aspiring to join Blasphemia, she’s now a somewhat competent Blasphemia agent.
“…Is this the one? The lost agent Niobe brought?”
“Yes. This is Orthes.”
What kind of reaction will there be?
Before arriving at the branch, I had set two directions for my plans. Plan A involved my excuses and quick thinking working perfectly, implanting Arabella’s drone, and getting out without any issues.
It was a plan filled with hope, but it wasn’t impossible. After all, I had learned quite a bit about them through constant clashes with Blasphemia.
The code name L13 I posed as also belonged to someone who went missing from Blasphemia. To be precise, I had dealt with them, so they were technically deceased.
However, since this information hadn’t reached the Blasphemia headquarters, the identity I borrowed would be treated as missing.
Plan B was simple. If Arabella’s infiltration is discovered or my disguise gets blown, I’ll have to go all out.
In that case, I’d likely need to destroy the entire branch to minimize the number of people who knew my face.
I wonder how the branch head will react.
*
Nardanit emotionlessly criticized Orthes.
“So, you’re saying you’re a lost agent. Have you forgotten even the basics of Blasphemia? You should be using your assigned serial number instead of a fake name.”
“Well, it should be in Miss Niobe’s report, right?”
“You little…”
Nardanit rose from his seat. At a glance, he looked like a slender, fragile figure with long black hair giving off a gender-neutral vibe.
However, Orthes knew that the long hair wasn’t merely for aesthetics. It was biological fiber that merges with the user. It was close to an assassination tool that could be manipulated at will.
“Get out, K17.”
“Pardon?”
“Get out.”
At his lowered voice, K17 and Niobe quickly bowed their heads and exited the engine room. Just before leaving, there was a mixed glance of fear and concern directed at Orthes.
Orthes merely shrugged his shoulders at the gaze.
When the door closed, Nardanit growled.
“Are you not understanding the situation, lost agent? You could currently be suspected of defection. Answer me correctly.”
“Hmm. If I’m recalling correctly, agents who achieve sufficient results are allowed to use their real names.”
That was indeed true. Regular agents are usually called by code names because their positions can be replaced at any time. Agents like branch heads who have achieved results can use their real names.
Nardanit scoffed. A cold contempt smothered the engine room.
“I checked the report on the code name L13. It seems you lack any significant achievements to act so high and mighty. Show respect to your superiors, lost agent.”
“It’s only natural that nothing would be recorded.”
Orthes’s nonchalant reply made Nardanit’s biological fibers of hair ripple. While he hadn’t fully employed magic, the charged magic was boiling.
“Is it a secret if you can access the personal information of a Secret Inspector?”
“What?”
Orthes tilted his head.
“You said Niobe’s code name was K17. Was it such an easy assignment that a newly graduated recruit was assigned to an investigation of zealots? Since when?”
In that moment, Nardanit felt like he had left only a smile suspended in the air. Amidst the blurry presence, only a cold smile grew clearer in his view.
Seeing Nardanit’s expression, now colored with astonishment, Orthes’s grin deepened.
*
Did I choose just any agent to impersonate?
The original owner of the code name L13 turned out to be someone unusually strong, so I recognized him as an inspector.
“I question whether mission assignments and performance evaluations are done properly in this branch. I demand access to the database.”
In other words, I was in the best position to call the shots based on rank.
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