One prevalent misconception is that during rain, smells become less discernible. This minor misperception can be rectified by promptly acquiring a dog.
While rain does dampen your sense of smell, it doesn’t diminish the scent of your body odor. Furthermore, the senses of superhumans remain unimpaired by a typical summer rain.
Naturally, when you get hit by rain, the scent is intensified. Even if you drop distilled water on a sterilized lab mouse, it would likely react similarly, and given the state of public health and hygiene in this pre-modern era, it goes without saying.
Moreover, the man being tracked has been running for several days, finally arriving in the city – a man of ‘Drovian’ origin.
Setting aside Drovian’s peculiar public health ideology, distinguishing the smell of a foreigner is generally easier.
“The Ministry of Foreign Affairs residence…?”
Ivan murmured faintly, contemplating the path the scent continued.
There are three places on Earth where an undocumented immigrant should not visit.
Firstly, a rural employment counseling center that offers an unusually high wage.
Secondly, a local factory (or farm, or any workplace involving fields) where an abnormal number of trend followers work.
Lastly, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
As in any context, the last item is the most important. While the first two cases end with extreme exploitation, the last case involves actual execution handled as an official duty.
In South Korea, undocumented immigrants are promptly sent back home. The lenient Krasilov may offer two suggestions in this case:
1. Return to your homeland and face death from your king.
2. Follow our laws and face death from us.
If we interpret it a bit more ‘nobly,’ let’s say it presented the astonishing options of exile and citizenship issuance. (In this world, even deceased citizens are citizens because they have to pay taxes.)
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Krasilov combines the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Korea, the military (a direct military government not belonging to the royal court, military administration), and a police agency targeting foreign nobles (there is no law against deception in this world).
Moreover, the head of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Foreign Minister, is the eldest son of the current king, Kirill II. Crown Prince Alexander.
“Too… amateurish.”
Ivan frowned.
Common sense would suggest that the cause of this turmoil in the capital right now is Prince Alexander.
This mysterious missing royal, whose whereabouts are unknown, must have colluded with the Capital Guard military government to smuggle dwarfs into the country.
The goal is probably children of the hero party, hence the purpose is internal discord or chaos throughout the united kingdom.
Initiating various schemes with a single move, he is undoubtedly an outstanding chess player. The current situation is indeed peculiar.
If the Ministry of Foreign Affairs harbors foreign illegal immigrants, the life of the Foreign Minister cannot be guaranteed even in Korea. (In Krasilov, it can be guaranteed. He dies.)
Ivan shrugged once and hung a rope on his axe.
‘Infiltrating a national central agency is rare.’
He never said he didn’t.
During his active duty, he had experience in almost every special operation with the name ‘infiltration’ in its code name. (Excluding demon castles.)
*
Currently in Frechenkaya, there are simultaneous acts of bomb terrorism by righteous civic activists, the VIP kidnapping of state separatists, and guerrilla warfare by armed communists (literally communist, because they’re dwarves).
In the midst of this chaotic situation, if there are those who should suppress it first and preemptively, one would be the Capital Guard Division, and the other would be the Counterintelligence Headquarters.
Considering the Capital Guard Division seems to have allowed the attack by the armed dwarves, it appears influenced by Alexander.
In this situation, Ivan contemplates:
‘What on earth is the Counterintelligence Headquarters doing?’
The reason this valid question cannot be answered immediately is that almost all the agents of the Counterintelligence Headquarters are currently divided in half, each performing state affairs in different locations.
“This is, this is… a rebellion!”
“Not a rebellion.” (Dmitri)
Dmitri and Counterintelligence Headquarters agents are currently occupying the commander’s office of the Guard Division.
He sits with his legs crossed in the comfortable chair in the commander’s office, takes out an exquisite premium cigar stored in the drawer, and asks.
-Snipping.
His efficient subordinate quickly cuts the end of the cigar and ignites it with magic at his fingertips. Sizzling, the tobacco smoke, imbued with the scent of almond and vanilla, rises faintly.
“Do you know the meaning of rebellion?” (Dmitri)
“Your actions, what you’re… what you’re engaging in…”
“This isn’t rebellion. Rebellion is the censure that befalls those who have failed. To strive is a revolution; if unsuccessful, it transforms into rebellion, but if it prevails…”
Sipping deeply on the cigar, he slowly exhaled.
Amidst the thick smoke, the lieutenant colonel’s azure pupils gleamed.
“Audacious.”
“How dare you… you rebels!!”
“To utter rebellion in our presence. Quite courageous, Major.”
Dmitri chuckled and snapped his fingers. The deputy handed him a hefty pistol.
With the gun in hand, he lightly tapped the table. Two reports and a handwritten copy were laid out.
“This is the investigative report you compiled after the dwarf terrorism incident on the outskirts of Frechenkaya. And this is the border patrol log you’ve been writing for the past month. And this… is something we ‘accidentally’ acquired. A ‘Confidential Dispatch Transcript Copy.’”
“How did you…?”
“Curiosity about what ‘confidential’ entails is our business.”
Dmitri chuckled and perused the transcript.
“The caller is Prince Alexander. Regarding the main report, oh. Planning civil engineering and field training to conceal the excavation noise of the dwarf engineer battalion heading underground in the capital? Quite meticulous.”
“I-it’s a conspiracy! That’s a conspiracy!”
“Did I misspeak? Not a conspiracy but an extraordinary adventure, bringing demons into Frechenkaya… quite an adventurous spirit unexpected in a bureaucrat. Shouldn’t have become a soldier.”
Dmitri calmly observed the sobbing major, kneeling and covered in blood.
With the door ajar, Dmitri inquired curiously, cigarette in hand.
“Where is Prince Alexander really right now?”
“Wha-what do you mean? His Highness is naturally in the Royal Palace…”
“We might need to learn a thing or two about tail-cutting tricks. How can one execute such a complex plan without revealing a single location?”
Dmitri stood up with a wry smile. He slowly raised the pistol and faced the major.
“Let me ask one thing before the execution.”
“Spare me. I, I don’t know anything. It’s a conspiracy, a conspiracy. Her Royal Highness… no, no! Please let me meet Her Majesty!”
“Where does the loyalty of a bureaucrat lead?”
“W-what are you talking about! Naturally, naturally, to the greatness of the Krasilov royal family…”
-Click.
-Bang!
Qualitatively different from cigarette smoke, a dense haze dispersed from the muzzle as the major’s mouth closed.
Dmitri handed the gun to his deputy, put on gloves, and turned away.
“Record it. The punishment for the rebellious traitors who conspired against the nation’s magnolia is execution by decree.”
“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel.”
“The fake Crown Prince?”
“Teams 2 and 5 report successful pacification of the Royal Palace.”
“Team 3?”
“Fifteen minutes ago, they succeeded in ‘protecting’ the ‘First King’ from the ‘treasonous’ terror.”
“Good. The explosives in the city?”
“Team 4 has completed identifying the burial location and burial quantity. Lieutenant Colonel, the order for dismantling operations…?”
“No, not that.”
Dmitri opened the commander’s office door and spoke soberly.
“It’s not a proper succession ceremony without cannon fire. If those bastards want to blow up Frechenkaya, let them do it.”
“…What about the civilians in the blast zone?”
“Introduce them to the civilians. Is there a need to witness blind bloodshed? The important thing is the explosion, not the casualties.”
The one who planted the bombs was a foreign criminal.
The one who employed that criminal to blow up Frechenkaya was Crown Prince Alexander.
The prince’s aim was the chaos in Frechenkaya, a gap for a successful royal succession, which was thwarted. The prince’s whereabouts became mysterious afterward, and the king, shocked by his son’s rebellion, abdicated.
Since everything was based on truth, the Counterintelligence Headquarters’s task was to declare it to the citizens and the international community.
“What about the children of the hero party?”
“That’s originally Senior’s job. Don’t meddle. Lieutenant Petrovich dislikes encroachment into his area of responsibility.”
The only missing piece in this situation was a lumberjack.
During the war, the top field agent produced by the annihilation unit, Ivan Petrovich, would fill that gap.
With this, everything is finished. Dmitri chuckled with a lightened heart.
*
Ecdysis awoke with a piercing pain in her head, trembling slightly, and opened her eyes with great difficulty.
The dark interior was extremely bleak… almost prison-like… no, it was indeed a real prison.
What is this? Why am I captured? Prison…? What crime did I commit…?
Looking up at the sky, Ecdysis, unashamed even in the face of pain, felt unjustly treated.
“Are you awake, Eshi?”
“Be, Bella! And there’s Oscar too?!”
She discovered the two people in one corner of the prison and smiled brightly. Well, that makes sense!
“You’ve come to rescue me!”
“No, we’ve been captured too.”
Isabelle and Oscar responded with a disappointed smile.
*
“The Tylesse guys are captured too.”
Ivan, looking down at the unconscious Diane with injuries, clicked his tongue.
The place he was found was an investigation room on the second floor of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs residence.
Unlike Mord and others, this guy didn’t have fatal injuries. It was fortunate; it meant there were no traitors in Tylesse.
If Tylesse had also been involved in this situation, there wouldn’t have been a chance for Diane to be kidnapped alive. They would have had to kill him to silence him.
Ivan clicked his tongue and opened the door to the investigation room.
“The Counterintelligence Headquarters… needs training.”
With so many holes in the security for national dignitaries, how can they be called an internal espionage unit?
Ivan was dismayed. Such incidents never happened when he was on active duty.
He recalled numerous training plans he could apply to the Counterintelligence Headquarters and moved on.
-Clunk, clunk.
The broken magical lights flickered in the corridor of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs residence.
Blood and rainwater pooled on the floor, creating a squelching noise with every step.
In the shortest path to the top floor, remnants of all the armed forces that had blocked Ivan were blinking red under the lights.
Ivan, without even a rough breath, silently walked down the corridor.
