Same Voice, Horror Movie Vibe
Same speech pattern, but a completely different atmosphere.
It was like its own horror movie.
[Reveal the target's truth?]
Cost: 22p
What the hell? Why'd the price go up? Does this thing have a market rate or something?
He nearly spat out a curse at the price, which had risen by 2 points from last time.
I'll give you my liver and gallbladder—just spit out the info already.
Truth Eye pierces the target.
The battalion commander's info laid bare, just like a status window.
The contents went beyond shocking—they were downright horrifying.
Wa… wait a damn minute. A traitor? This guy's no traitor.
What was a traitor, anyway? Someone who was originally on our side but flipped for money or power.
But according to the info floating before his eyes, Major Ollmen—no, this bastard Sadis—was a pure-blooded Aditz from their Reconnaissance Command, the equivalent of an intelligence agency.
"Surprised to run into you here?"
"Ha… haha, yeah, a little. Never thought I'd see you in a place like this, sir. Embarrassing."
He pretended to smooth back his hair to wipe away the cold sweat and ease the awkwardness.
"No reason to be embarrassed. Everyone's got a hobby to blow off steam."
"You're right, sir."
He nodded vigorously, playing along as best he could.
"Both of you military types—world's small, huh?"
Jack wedged into the conversation with a business smile.
"Since we're fated to meet, how about a game together?"
Not a bad suggestion when he needed to get closer. Fortunately, the battalion commander didn't seem opposed.
"I'm fine with it. What about you, platoon leader?"
"It'd be an honor if you'd allow it, sir."
"No need to be so formal—sit."
"Thank you, sir."
No sooner had he sat than people swarmed over.
"Looks fun—mind if we join?"
"Me too. Texas Hold'em, your favorite, right?"
Before he could even speak, the players and game were decided.
Texas Hold'em, just as expected.
From intel reports: the battalion commander's favorite game. Good thing he'd played before—no cramming needed.
Did it with the guys back when we were obsessed with board games.
Of course, that didn't mean he was good. Especially not against a 30-something major who loved gambling.
"Raise."
"Call."
As chips piled up and cards flipped, he couldn't help groaning.
"Thought I had it this time."
"Haha, that's exactly when you gotta be careful, lieutenant."
Loss after loss. He won a few here and there, but overall, chips flowed out like a waterfall.
Damn, this guy's really into gambling.
No time to chat like he'd hoped. Game ended, new one started right away. After nearly six straight hours, half his chips were gone.
"Not my night—call it here?"
Was he concerned about his mentality? Right after a rare win, the commander suggested wrapping up.
Yeah, no point dragging this out—waste of time.
Exhaustion at its limit, he nodded without hesitation.
"Sounds good, sir. Luck's not with me tonight. Haha."
"Good game."
"Was fun. Shame we couldn't go longer."
"I'll call you next time."
The other players lingered, reluctant to leave.
Tastes good when it's my money, huh? Pigs.
They'd fleeced a sucker proper—their pockets were fat tonight.
"Heading back to base?"
"It's late—yeah."
"Ride together then. Save on carriages."
"Sure."
The commander grabbed his coat and they left the casino.
"Safe travels!"
Jack's booming send-off from behind. Looked like he'd leveled up from VIP to VVIP.
"Coming back?"
"Had so much fun, I'd love to if time allows."
"Haha, next time together?"
The unexpected invite made his hand tremble faintly.
It worked out this smooth?
A golden chance to get close to the commander. Terrifying? Sure, but he had to grab it with both hands.
"An honor if you'll have me, sir."
"Too formal. You're in—I'll let you know when."
"Yes, sir!"
After that, casual chit-chat. How's Alpen treating you? Close with the platoon? Considerate questions.
Back then, he'd have thought him a great guy. Not after seeing the truth.
Can't let on even a hint, or I'm dead.
Still burned in his brain: "Assassination" under specialties.
Knock knock.
"Lieutenant Ramon reporting. May I enter?"
"Come in."
Lieutenant Ramon opened the door to the firmly shut battalion commander's office.
"Had dinner, sir?"
"Light meal. You?"
"Reporting first, then heading to the mess."
"Almost closing time—better hurry."
Kind commander, polite platoon leader. Natural vibe as Ramon pulled out his file.
"The recruit list you requested."
"Already? Told you no rush."
"Haha, got curious myself—sped it up."
Ramon scratched his head with a friendly grin.
"Let's see."
Ollmen flipped through the papers one by one.
Name: Bardis
Rank: Private
Origin: Pesto Barony
Criminal Record: None
Name: Escu
Rank: Private
Origin: Agust Viscounty
Criminal Record: None
Nothing noteworthy.
But on the third page, Ollmen's eyes sharpened.
Name: Palan | Family: Oclo
Rank: Lieutenant
Investigation Notes:
• Sudden transfer from coastal guard battalion—unnatural, not voluntary.
• Seen close with intel's Lieutenant Alpen—possible collaboration, needs verification.
• No linked activity between Oclo Trading Company and intel so far.
Alert Level: Watch
"Hmm, some interesting newbies this batch."
"Yes, sir. Company's buzzing lately."
Their eyes met in the air.
"Up close, any odd behavior? Times being what they are."
"Nothing spotted or reported yet."
"Good."
Ollmen pulled Palan's page and tossed it into the fireplace.
"Keep a steady eye. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright. Enjoy dinner."
"Loyalty!"
Ramon saluted and left.
"Hmm."
Alone now, Ollmen's mind churned more than ever.
A noble kid shows up right when my cover's partially blown. How to play this?
Used right, a step closer to his mission. A tempting fruit.
That's why he had to suspect and watch.
Request more intel, keep relations smooth—best move.
Decision made, he lit a cigarette from the drawer.
Mission's close. No room for errors.
His resolute face was Major Sadis's.
A month passed.
Lots happened, but top was intel agency escape failure.
"Deadline this week—capture even if no more intel."
"Understood."
"Nailing this nets promotion for sure. 14 years chasing this spy."
"Ha… haha, dream come true."
Dream? Bullshit—pure nightmare.
Forget all that, just ship me to coastal guard.
Exactly three weeks ago.
After another casino trip with the commander—Sadis now.
He realized: this was no life, just a matter of time.
So he reported Sadis's drunken slip: Recon Command, real name Sadis.
But orders weren't to abort.
Keep digging. You crazy bastards.
Requested pullout again—danger—but denied over escape risk.
"Not confirmed, but intel says major rank—be proud."
"Ha… haha, thanks."
Lucky big fish, nothing proud. And that shark's about to eat him.
"Enough updates. Main point: starting Hamus swordsmanship today."
Lieutenant advancing post-basic imperial sword mastery.
Familiar name.
"Hamus—the founding hero?"
Three founders every imperial knew.
Knight Hamus.
Archmage Erin.
Sage Aladict.
No families left—wiped by traitorous descendants.
"Why ask what kids know?"
"Ha… haha, just checking."
Damn, picky.
People ask—why so touchy?
"Anyway, this style's Hamus's foundation—letters of literature, say."
"Oh…"
"Should learn basics at camp, but your face says first time. Tsk."
Lieutenant clucked disapprovingly.
"Hundreds quit at this wall—don't take 'basic' lightly."
Never did.
"How long for you, sir?"
"Mastered in a year, ready for next."
One data point, but Alpen had talent.
"Average time?"
"Why compare? No good comes."
Stuffy words stiffened his face.
Old-school boomer.
Lieutenant already? Scary future.
"Just saw me badmouth you."
"No… I didn't."
"Draw. Was gonna go easy—guess not."
"I didn't!"
His indignant shout fell on deaf ears.