Episode 5 - Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy
"Major—no, Chief."
Pippin stumbled over the unfamiliar title as she called out to me. It was just a cover name, not my official rank, but after hearing "Major" so many times, "Chief" still didn't roll off her tongue easily.
"What's up, Pippin?"
"We got an official memo from upstairs."
I took the paper she handed me and skimmed it quickly.
"Hm. Proceed as planned, no changes. Send in the advance team under cover identities."
The world was already going mad enough as it was, but surprisingly, the tasks I had to handle weren't as overwhelming as I'd thought.
I handed Pippin the cooperation memo I'd prepared in advance and gave her instructions.
"Send this to the Trade Promotion Agency."
"The Trade Promotion Agency? Isn't that a state-owned enterprise?"
"Yeah."
I nodded as I stood from my chair in response to her question.
"They've collaborated with the Intelligence Bureau plenty of times, so they'll whip up some fake IDs if we request it. I've already cleared it with the other handlers, so just send it off."
The personnel for this operation would be split between official covers and unofficial ones. People from Special Operations, Counterintelligence, Technical Intelligence, and Overseas Intelligence would all pose as corporate reps infiltrating the Magic Tower.
On the flip side, Pippin, Jake, and a few others would masquerade as defense attachés, embedding as staff at the Abbas Magic Tower Liaison Office to provide rear support.
I'd gotten ditched by Agrément, leaving my cover floating in limbo, but since the rest of the team was fine, Military Intelligence had decided to push ahead with the op.
As for my identity and infiltration method... well, I'd figure something out eventually.
"Send up the memo and text the handlers."
"Got it. What about you, Chief?"
"I'm heading out on barren lands duty. With Camilla."
Pippin saluted, grabbed the memo, and left the office. I stretched and stepped up to the pinboard plastered wall-to-wall with photos. My eyes locked on one man's picture.
"......"
Fabio Verati, staffer at the Magic Tower Liaison Office. The first target of this operation.
The Church and the Magic Tower's heated wrestling match dragged on, but I'd tuned it out completely. To be precise, I was faithfully carrying out Military Intelligence's orders to focus on the mission.
Setting up op conditions, managing assets, negotiating with the Inquisition, Lucia updates, Camilla updates, and so on. That was about the extent of it.
I was handling just the three top-priority tasks, and I'd skipped the lower-priority Lucia and Camilla reports. The Bureau didn't seem to need that level of detail anyway—no nagging to file them ASAP.
Still, the Agrément issue was directly tied to my personal safety, so it felt weird for me, the principal, to ignore it. But Clevins had said flat-out he'd "get their agreement by any means necessary," so I was letting it slide for now.
Whether that meant smooth-talking them or strong-arming them, I had no idea. Either way, good was good.
So yeah, I was laser-focused on the op.
"...But aren't I supposed to be on leave right now?"
"Huh? What'd you say?"
"Oh, no—nothing."
Camilla's question snapped me out of it. No matter how I sliced it, it felt like my vacation had been axed... Eh, they'd probably cough up leave compensation pay or something. No way they'd stiff me for volunteering during time off, right?
A chill ran down my spine at the ominous thought. As I shivered, Camilla tilted her head while setting the forest ablaze.
"You cold? Want me to amp up the fire?"
"...No, this isn't some heater. You're burning down a mountain—what do you mean 'amp up'?"
Camilla beamed and went back to torching trees. I watched her, too dumbfounded to speak, just shaking my head.
"Jeez..."
She wasn't your average person either. Probably.
Camilla and I joined the barren lands op in the uninhabited zone as usual today. You could call the barren lands op a military pest extermination hunt. More like a full-on military campaign, really.
Come autumn, armies in this world torch sectors of the uninhabited zone along the border. In winter, they sweep in to wipe out the monsters hibernating in the treeless, grassless wasteland.
Unlike civilian pest hunts where licensed hunters bag invasive species like boars, deer, or nutria, this was heavy artillery and armor pounding monsters on land, underground, sea, and air.
Of course, licensed adventurers prowled the zone too, bashing monsters. Some took official contracts from nations or corps, but only big names could swing that. Most adventurers were basically self-employed hustlers chasing pricey monster byproducts.
At first glance, it might sound like humans could wipe monsters out anytime. Sadly, their stubborn vitality and breeding made extinction impossible. Wiping out a single species wasn't child's play.
If it were, the military would've done it ages ago. Unless they had nukes—which they didn't—the best they could do was chem rounds or FASCAM cluster mines.
Border guards sometimes pushed to blanket the zone in chems and mines, but high command and parliament shot it down. Not for humanitarian or eco reasons, but because the cost blew the defense budget.
Even feeding, housing, and moving troops cost a fortune—shells were just the start. Add transport, maintenance, morale, barrel replacements... it'd bankrupt them.
So what else? Feed 'em manpower. In a world where labor was dirt cheap and unemployment tanked growth, dumping troops and adventurers into barren lands ops created jobs and juiced local economies. A New Deal for this world.
Roosevelt would've smashed his desk and wailed if he saw it.
Anyway, barren lands ops mattered enough for the executive and legislative branches to care (fail, and you'd fight urban warfare with monsters midwinter). The key was burning as much area as fast as possible before winter hit. Cold weather spiked non-combat losses.
That was why.
"Okay, look this way! Colonel, tilt right a bit! Division commander, chin up just a tad! Perfect—say cheese! One, two!"
Click! A brief flash popped with the shutter.
The PR trooper grinned white teeth and showed the camera to the brass. They nodded approval with an OK sign.
"Great job, everyone!"
Applause erupted on cue. Brass and grunts swapped "good work today" platitudes and patted themselves on the back. A single battalion would've slaved days on this sector—they'd torched it in under a day.
Defense Ministry suits passed photos around, cooing "looks great." Sector commanders toasted zero casualties. Grunts cheered for some R&R.
"All done?"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright. Good work, everyone."
I tossed out a soulless courtesy and pushed through the crowd. I approached today's star, gazing at the smoldering bald mountain.
"Great job, Camilla."
"Oh, Frederic."
"You're in top form today, huh? Haha..."
I stood beside her, spouting nonsense. It was pointless showmanship, so Camilla just laughed along.
"Eh, today's decent, I guess."
"......"
The barren lands op wrapped successfully, zero casualties. But if you asked about accidents...
"You okay?"
"Totally! No pain anywhere."
Camilla had passed out again today. No one knew why.
The Higher Military Magic Research Institute, tasked with diagnosing via tests, had suffered an unprecedented security breach. Guns drawn to nab a shaman spy—witnessed by crowds of civilians.
Learning a "comrade" was a spy, and an unknown shaman at that, shocked everyone. Military Intelligence clamped it all down for security. No leaks, even to the Tower. To stem info flow and sniff out more spies.
They'd locked down the Institute, controlling info. Rumor had it intense interrogations were ongoing.
Obviously, no proper analysis in that mess. So Camilla kept blacking out, cause unknown. Even counterintel ops guys involved in the spy grab and this mission didn't know when the lab would normalize. Just time ticking away.
"......"
"Um, Frederic?"
"...Yeah?"
Occupational hazard or paranoia? Camilla snapped me out of my trance.
And as always, she smiled brightly.
"I'm fine."
"......"
"For real?"
No worry lines, no shadows—just pure calm.
"Don't stress too much."
"......"
I shot back.
"Wipe that chocolate off your face first."
"...Ah!"
Camilla frantically smeared her sleeve across her chocolate-smeared mouth.
"Jeez..."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity.
"All clean? Let's grab chow."
I led the sloppy girl to the mess truck.
We ran into the suits in black sedans right as I scooped my first bite.