Episode 5 - Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy: Everything Has Its Cause and Effect
Everything has a cause and effect. The world has its promised laws. Problems have formulas, destinations have paths. People are no different. What moves people. The principle that forms the basis of actions. Usually, it's called psychology.
"Sorry, Merlo. You know our internal rules."
"I know. I get it."
That psychology.
"Sophia."
"Yeah?"
If you understand that,
"Mind if I ask something else?"
"Sure."
"...Thanks."
manipulating people is a piece of cake.
Episode 5 - Journalist, Diplomat, Soldier, Spy
"Hmmm~..."
Sophia hummed through her nose, swinging her legs back and forth.
"So, what's got you curious? As long as it's not about the Lanieri family, I'll give you the full rundown."
"For example?"
"For example..."
Sophia wiggled her fingers one by one around her wine glass, humming playfully.
"Analysis on the Magic Tower's Oracle Committee elections... docs on the rumors of the Kien Emperor's health issues... the drug smuggling routes we've been tracking from Moritani..."
I stared at her fingers unfolding slowly. Then, out of nowhere, I asked,
"Isn't Gucci a bit much as payment for granting a favor?"
Was this really info they could hand over to me without issue? At the same time, it was a question about why they'd hide alchemist intel for something like this.
Of course, I didn't say it out loud.
Sophia just grinned, propping her chin up.
"We're not a one-and-done deal, right? We've got some history."
"Friends?"
Friends? We had way too many secrets between us for that. Allies? Our interests didn't align. Enemies? We were too close. We were something that couldn't be pinned down easily. The world was full of that kind of mess.
"I thought we were."
"If that's what you think, then sure, Sophia."
Anyway.
This wasn't the time for dumb banter.
"Alright, spit it out. What do you want to know?"
"Tell me Patalia's government stance on Francesca Lanieri."
"Foreign policy stance? Sorry, that's the Foreign Ministry's turf. The president's foreign policy is set by the Foreign Minister, not our boss."
Sophia smirked, her tone sly as ever.
"You know that's not what I mean. Don't play amateur."
"Sorry, just messing with you."
She tapped the table lightly and let out a soft sigh.
"Sigh... Fine. You want the National Security Agency's take?"
"Yeah."
"You've been gunning for this from the start?"
Sharp as always.
"Who knows."
I gave a vague reply, keeping my face blank as I met her gaze. Sophia peered into my eyes for a moment, then leaned back, draping an arm over the chair.
"Alright, where should I start..."
Right on plan.
Truth is, I don't need intel on Francesca Lanieri. With the massive info network the Foreign Ministry's planted in the Magic Tower and Patalia, how could I—a diplomat posted abroad—not dig up dirt on one civilian? I know plenty about the alchemist already.
What I need isn't her file. It's how the Patalia government really views her. The unofficial attitude. Raw thoughts, no diplomatic polish.
That's why I dragged Sophia out here and asked for alchemist info specifically. I knew the National Security Agency wouldn't hand it over. Or at least, I figured as much.
Reasonable grounds for that hunch. One: Francesca Lanieri's background. Two: Patalia's modern history. Three: Magic Tower-Patalia relations, and the agency's mandate. Complicated web, but boiled down:
"Francesca Lanieri is under surveillance. Her whole family, technically."
Family issues hit the sweet spot.
"You know why, right?"
"Monarchy restoration?"
"Yep. Sedition against the state."
Sophia added flatly,
"If we're splitting hairs, it's more like incitement to rebellion..."
Francesca Lanieri was the family of a public security offender. In our terms, a relative of a criminal.
To sum up why: Patalia's modern history, Magic Tower diplomacy, and the Lanieri family's uniqueness.
History first. Patalia was once an absolute monarchy. The royals ruled everything until the military, fed up with their mismanagement and tyranny, staged a coup and turned it into a republic. The military filled the power vacuum, holding a junta for about 20 years until a citizens' revolution brought in democracy.
Monarchy and dictatorship were sore spots for most Patalians. In purging that stain, they scrapped guilt by association, enshrined social rights, amended the constitution, boosted parliament's power. They even banned "noble blood" distinctions outright, and parliament went further, embedding a "no special social classes" clause to kill any noble or royal nonsense.
Thus, "nobility" vanished from Patalia.
Except one exception.
"Even if the Lanieris descend from a great mage, keeping their title's unconstitutional, right? In a democratic republic, no less."
"Constitutional Court ruled it fine. That's that."
"Government leaning on the judiciary to declare it so?"
The Lanieri family was Patalia's sole surviving noble house. Blatantly against the constitution's no-special-classes rule, but Magic Tower ties made it possible. They traced back to a great mage the Tower called a founding father. Patalia and the Tower were revolution buddies.
The junta didn't inherit the throne but kept Tower goodwill. The democracy did too—new regimes crave legitimacy, and foreign backing was gold.
So they recognized the Lanieris' status—influential in Tower politics—for friendly ties. Despite parliamentary pushback, the government twisted the court from unconstitutional to kosher.
Sophia trailed off ambiguously here.
"Eh...? That's domestic politics. Not my lane..."
"Sure, whatever."
Anyway. The Lanieris were the only family granted perpetuation privileges. The junta showered them with perks (tax breaks, priority slots, parachutes), which they enjoyed for 20 years. Democracy stripped it all, leaving just the title.
The issue: the Lanieris resented Patalia's decision. Natural. People hate losing what they had—especially when the same government gave and took it away.
For 70 years post-democracy, the Lanieris nursed quiet grudges. Not open hostility—just media op-eds and cartoons critiquing policy. Mostly contrarian sniping, whatever party was in power. Bat-like. Broken clocks are right twice a day, so some viewed their takes positively.
But.
The anti-government Lanieris crossed the line. Amid economic fiasco backlash, they ran a cartoon saying "Monarchy days were better."
Critiquing via paper was routine, but monarchy restoration was coup-level taboo. It exploded beyond "mild gaffe."
They hit the panic button. Hard.
"The Lanieris did invoke restoration, fact is."
"True."
"What do you think that means?"
Patalia saw it as a regime challenge.
"Incitement to sedition."
The symbol of Patalia-Tower friendship became a security offender den overnight, under National Security Agency watch. Standard for anti-regime figures.
Worries about Tower fallout existed—Lanieris had ties—but the Tower expressed regret instead of aid. The cartoon could read as dictatorship endorsement, a sore spot for mages (Inquisition history), and maintaining rev-buddy ties mattered more amid isolation.
Governments aligned, noble house fell. The founding father's line got branded seditionists. A joint task force, NSA-led, launched probes and surveillance.
Still ongoing, 20 years later.
"You wanted our agency's stance on Francesca Lanieri."
"Yeah."
So I needed the unofficial line, not the public one. Even if she's oracle-picked company, cozying with an allied security offender risks diplomatic fire.
This was shadow talk only. That's why agencies exist, why they pay my salary.
Sophia, NSA investigator and old contact, delivered.
"Public meetings? Fine. Private? Can't help. Best keep distance—for you and her."
Steer clear of Francesca Lanieri. Allies have lines too.
"Kid of a seditionist palling with a foreign soldier? Looks bad. Especially allied military."
"Keep it strictly business?"
"We can't meddle officially in your policy—non-interference. Sorry, get it?"
Diplomatic mess hurts both sides, so mind our position. Telling me direct, not via embassy, means Patalia's as awkward as us with the Tower.
"Sigh..."
What can you do? Agencies fix this stuff.
Time to brief the boss on Patalia's stance.
"Satisfied?"
"Yeah, thanks for the intel."
I drained my glass, nodding.
Got what I wanted. Rough sense of how to handle Francesca Lanieri.
"See you soon."
"You bet."
After the marathon chat, parting ways. While my team waited with the car, I grabbed Sophia heading out first.
"Sophia."
"Yeah?"
She stopped, turning with an amused look. Like she smelled fun.
I asked,
"Last time you said you were here tying up a retiree's loose ends. But you know a lot."
Agency grunts stick to their lane—need-to-know limits intel access. Prevents leaks. Like compartmentalization.
Even agents can't touch unrelated stuff, especially policy stances.
So,
"...You caught on?"
My hunch was solid: Investigator Sophia wasn't just Tower babysitting Fabio Verati.
Nailed it.
"Busted."
The NSA investigator flashed a clear smile.
"Don't dig too deep, Merlo. Sometimes playing dumb's polite."
"I'll keep it secure?"
"Etiquette, right?"
Thanks for the favor anyway, Merlo.
She waved, smile intact, and left the wine bar. I smirked, giving it a beat before following.
Ironic, huh? Alias-users swapping secrets. Rival agencies minding each other's binds.
Who’s friend or foe? Yesterday's ally betrays tomorrow. You rip throats one day, laugh it off the next.
Guts blacker than coal briquettes? Small fry. Iron-face "nice guy" acts rule.
Even hotshots crash on one slip. That's reality.
"...I'm the one who's grateful."
No one you can trust. No gentleman suits—just monsters who scam and discard like rags.
Pure souls corrupt on entry. Misfits crash out fast; square pegs last longer forcing fit.
Only total makeovers survive and climb. Romance-free world.
Still.
"...Things are going smooth."
Plans clicking perfect? Love that.
Must be my calling.
The news that Francesca Lanieri's preventive schedule was set came around dinnertime that day.