Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Came to Make a Deal (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Intelligence Chief Melanie Lacroua.
The woman now leading the Intelligence Department after Foreign Affairs Minister Carton Grayson.
At the same time, she was a member of the lamia tribe—half-snake folk dwelling in the western swamps.
I had some history with her.
"It's been two years since we last met face-to-face like this. I hope you've been well."
- Of course. I've been fine. You?
A sweet voice emanated from the crystal orb.
But her serpentine eyes weren't smiling at all.
In that eerie disconnect, I replied.
"Same as always. Life as a civil servant, right?"
- Liar.
She cut me off sharply.
- The saintess requested temporary asylum at Immigration Control, and you call that the same old life?
I was momentarily speechless.
Only the Minister and the Director knew about that.
"Ah, you knew?"
- Even if Intelligence is swamped, we know what we need to. Something like temporary administrative processing? No way we'd miss it.
It had only been two or three days.
I'd thought it would take longer to spread to the palace.
Melanie narrowed her eyes at my frozen expression.
- So, why the grim face? Another fire spirit riot at the border?
How did she even know that?
"...That's not even the worst of it."
I gave her a concise rundown of the situation.
She'd been tapping her desk with a fingernail but stopped when the story reached the Evil God Cult.
"We know they're behind it, but that's where we hit a wall..."
- Hmm... Not a shapeshifter, but a changeling, huh.
She just murmured to herself with a small hum.
No other reaction from Melanie.
"We can't even identify which changeling it is."
This was the limit of Immigration Control's capabilities.
With time and circumstances so pressing, I'd squeezed out everything I could.
In the brief silence, she spoke.
- Black Hand.
"Pardon?"
- There's an assassin guild operating in the north. Infamous for doing anything for the right price—as long as it's not someone on the king's level.
Her yellow eyes darted around briefly.
It was her habit when rummaging through her mental files.
- Their sub-master is said to be peculiar. Has a thousand faces, or so they say.
A thousand faces.
That had to refer to changeling traits.
- Matches the person you're describing perfectly.
"..."
- Someone with that kind of skill was probably approached by the Evil God Cult first. Tempting them with a meeting of kin—the racial longing of changelings.
"But Black Hand wouldn't accept. The saintess is on par with the king."
- They'd avoid touching someone of her stature, but if the sub-master acted alone? That's a different story.
Melanie rattled off connections in an instant.
Seeing that, conviction settled in.
'She knew everything after all.'
With just a hint, she pieced together causes, effects, and details from her vast intel.
She had to know something about the Evil God Cult too.
Time to get to the point.
"I heard Intelligence is investigating the Evil God Cult in the north. I desperately need that information now."
Her expression flashed with surprise at my words.
- ...That's classified. Where'd you hear it?
"The Minister told me."
- Ah, right. Protecting you in the trial, huh.
She let out a deep sigh.
- Haah, our Minister. Still spoils his favorites—guts and all.
She nodded and continued.
- Yeah. Our agents are investigating the Evil God Cult's activities up north right now. And we've made solid progress—not everything, but enough.
I clenched my fist tightly, silently.
Finally, a path forward.
"What I'm requesting is intel on the Evil God Cult and their personnel records."
With Intelligence's cooperation, we could prepare proper countermeasures.
"To prevent future terror attacks like this, that information is crucial. Please."
But her response was utterly unexpected.
- Words alone won't cut it.
"...Pardon?"
The lamia's sharp eyes glared at me.
- This is as far as Intelligence can extend courtesy to Immigration Control. No further.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
I was flustered.
Intelligence refusing a cooperation request?
From Immigration Control, a subordinate agency under Foreign Affairs?
Unprecedented.
"Could you at least give a reason? Is it top-secret, impossible to share? Or... separate orders?"
Melanie fell silent for a moment.
Then, in a very serious tone:
- When our department tried scouting you, you turned us down.
"...Pardon?"
Did I hear that right?
"...S-surely you're not doing this because I chose to be an immigration officer instead of an Intelligence agent?"
It deflated me.
That was four years ago.
When my talent manifested, Intelligence had aggressively recruited me.
Not just them—Diplomacy and Immigration Control had vied for me too.
'Of course, I chose Immigration Control.'
She still held a grudge?
But she shook her head and added something else.
- And even when I personally approached you, you refused.
Melanie bluntly revealed private matters without hesitation.
- Kid, in this line of work, reputation is everything. Lose it, and you're dead meat.
"..."
- I put my neck out for that, and you turned me down. Know how much face I lost?
"Ch-Chief, that was..."
I instinctively glanced around.
Thankfully, no one was there, but I still lowered my voice.
"I-I mean... back then, I didn't have the leeway..."
How to explain this?
"After becoming Central Officer, I've been swamped..."
- Pfft.
She suddenly burst out laughing.
- You can make that face too? You've changed a lot since back then.
Melanie wagged her tail contentedly, as if she'd enjoyed the show.
- Kidding. That's not the reason.
"Then why?"
- Information has real value. Especially on a secretive group like that. Even as allies, we can't just hand it over for free.
The value of information.
More precious than a fortune, yet common as street pebbles.
Strategic enough to overturn a losing battle, yet universal enough for anyone to know.
Intelligence curated and collected thousands upon thousands of such pieces.
And intel on something as classified as the Evil God Cult? High-value commodity, as she said.
- You know my background, right?
"...Yes. Underworld information broker."
Melanie hadn't started in government.
Far from it—she'd operated deep in the shadows.
A renowned broker in the underworld.
'The Minister scouted her personally.'
Back when Carton was Chief, he hired her himself, vastly expanding our intel network.
She said:
- Intelligence is the same. We'll cooperate, but not give everything away. That devalues it and risks exposing sources.
Pure merchant logic.
To her, this wasn't an obvious favor—it was a risky business venture.
She leaned in, peering down at me slyly.
- Know how many valuable agents we've lost because other agencies mishandled classified info? Especially those idiots in Diplomacy—endless losses.
"But Immigration Control has never done that. You can trust us."
- Kid.
She said softly.
- Remember what you told me after the mana surge incident?
"..."
It struck home.
Suddenly, words from years ago resurfaced.
[I need info on the dark organization in the south. From the top brass to the lowliest errand boy. Every last one, no exceptions.]
After the Visual Officer's incident, I'd vowed it.
To eradicate every dark element in the south, root and stem.
'Intelligence's help was essential.'
Especially Melanie, from the shadows—she knew nearly everything. Perfect fit.
- A third of my underworld informants vanished then. You're one of the people who cost me dearly.
"It had to be done. They were cancerous tumors."
- Even for the nation, someone's gotta do the dirty work. Not every evil needs wiping out, kid.
Hearing that reminded me why I couldn't work with her.
We were too different.
From how we saw the world to how we handled it.
Even as an Intelligence agent instead of an immigration officer, it wouldn't have lasted.
- Personally, I'd love to help you. Officially? No. Not for free, at least.
Her cold voice flowed from the orb.
- Want it? Pay the price. That's my condition.
She proposed one thing.
A deal.
In true merchant fashion.
"...What do you want?"
- Finally, talking sense. Thought you'd forgotten your roots.
With a satisfied smile, she continued.
- Hmm. What to ask of a talent like you?
"Anything but a private meeting."
- ...Hmph.
Melanie snorted, then pulled a massive tome from her bookshelf and opened it.
- This is a collection of ciphers our agents couldn't crack over the past year. I'll send it over—decode it within a week.
The open book was filled with chaotic, unfamiliar script.
One sentence caught my eye.
[Sillyur Ixtahgin Deera Maribektas.]
'Not any language I know.'
No matter how I searched my memory, nothing matched those jumbled characters.
"Hmm..."
I focused my mind, peering at it.
The letters shifted gradually.
[The hatchling serpent slumbering in the red mountain dreams of eternal fire.]
Definitely another language, but to my eyes, it appeared as familiar Common Tongue.
"Double cipher. Even decoded, the words hide metaphorical meanings."
- You cracked it already?
Melanie smiled, satisfied as expected.
"Any language with a system can be translated."
My talent was simple.
Understand, speak, and write every language in the world.
Rare or extinct racial tongues used in ciphers? Child's play to unravel.
"But grasping the hidden meanings? That's beyond me."
The issue was vulnerability to this metaphorical style.
- Don't worry about that. Just translate the language. Once it's in Common, we handle the rest.
Not a bad deal.
Just translation? I could finish in three days, not one week.
Read and transcribe straight through.
- Metaphor decoding is our job anyway. You just do that part.
No reason to refuse.
"Agreed. Gladly."
- Excellent.
Perfect alignment.
The best outcome—both getting what we wanted.
- And when you're in the palace, drop by Intelligence sometime.
"..."
- Say the word if you want under me. Spot's still open.
I'd refused private meetings, yet she slipped in another hint.
I gently deflected.
"Haillin would get mad if I did."
- What could that desert village dust-eater possibly scare me with? Filthy weird speech and all.
Her tone turned venomous in an instant.
Since I joined Immigration Control, Melanie had developed this odd hostility toward Haillin.
'Probably just my imagination.'
I barely maintained a smile as I said:
"Ahaha... Anyway, shall we discuss what I get?"
- You need Evil God Cult intel, personnel records, and info on someone named 'Haten Silla'?
"Exactly."
- Good. But I can't tell you verbally now.
"Understood."
High-value intel never goes by word of mouth.
Too much risk of eavesdropping or signal interception on the orb.
- I'll encrypt the files and send via Royal Post. You can crack it instantly, no problem.
"Clean and efficient. Thank you for cooperating, Chief."
- Not cooperation. A deal.
True to her underworld broker roots, she tapped the table twice to seal it.
A merchant academy closing gesture.
She even knew my background and matched the etiquette perfectly.
No gaps.
I smiled faintly and tapped back.
"Satisfactory deal."
As I reached to end the call,
- Be careful, kid.
Melanie spoke again.
"Pardon?"
Turning, I saw her white lamia tail twitching uneasily.
- The little beast awakening is no good omen. Especially while under that one's gaze. Their proxy will resume activities soon.
"..."
- This one's free, so don't sweat it.
No need to ask who.
Only one little beast in the kingdom.
King Rio Castor.
'Thought he went quiet after the trial, but he's watching me?'
Not good news.
'And his proxy...'
Incansus Vermotem.
I recalled the agent who'd visited Immigration once.
If he reactivated, it meant orders from the king or queen.
'Palace intel. Shouldn't share lightly.'
And she just dropped it casually, no charge.
Pure goodwill from Melanie.
"Thank you, Melanie."
- Been a while since you called me that, without the title.
First time in ages using her name alone.
- Don't try handling everything solo like an idiot.
The merchant's mask faded, revealing a woman's face.
- People like you... are rare.
She smiled with complex emotions.
- Call ended.
The serpent vanished.
"Phew..."
I leaned back with a sigh of relief.
"Somehow, it's handled."
Secured intel on the Evil God Cult.
Reinforced Erzena's security again.
'We've done everything we can.'
All measures as Immigration Control and as an officer.
Now, just wait for Intelligence and the Director's responses.
Then—
- Bang.
The Olfactory Officer flung open the meeting room door, pale as a ghost.
"C-Central Officer!"
Just when I thought I could rest.
"...Olfactory Officer. What now?"
"You need to see outside."
What this time?
I dragged my heavy body to the window.
And there, in the distance, something familiar caught my eye.
"Damn it."
A flag emblazoned with a rose emblem shield.
Erzena and the other sense officers, following the Olfactory Officer, gathered beside me, peering out.
She murmured in a voice thick with emotions.
"Pilgrimage Group..."
Those rejected from the grand holy war were returning south.