Spy's Dream
“Kahaha! I did it!”
“Mmph... mmph...!”
The spy felt like he was flying on air. He had succeeded in kidnapping John Brown, the researcher who created the Empire’s new weapons.
“Now, if I can just make it back to the Kingdom...!”
It was as good as cashing a winning ticket. A rosy future unfolded in the spy’s mind, igniting his resolve.
“Whew. Calm down.”
He was still deep in the heart of the Empire. He needed to stay sharp to get back—to the Kingdom.
“Heh heh.”
Still, he couldn’t stop the silly grin creeping across his face.
“Heh... heh...”
“...?”
The Intelligence Agency agents watched the chuckling spy.
“The bastard’s laughing.”
“Must be having a nice dream.”
“Nice dream? I’d rather he didn’t escape reality.”
One agent’s lip twitched ever so slightly. The others’ faces remained stone-cold, but they were pissed.
“Ever since he spewed that nonsense about him, I’ve wanted to wipe any trace of happiness from his short remaining life.”
“Yeah. Makes my skin crawl.”
But their anger soon faded. The spy had endured a long interrogation process that would’ve broken any ordinary man.
“...Maybe we went a bit overboard.”
“Yeah. At this point, he’s probably paid enough.”
“...”
For a brief moment, pity flickered across the agents’ faces.
“At least it’s over.”
“Yeah. We’ve got plenty more to question now anyway.”
“Time to cross-check everything.”
The agents chatted as they left the room.
Thud.
The room fell silent, leaving the spy alone.
“Heh... heh...”
His condition was pitiful, but at least his face looked happy.
The Empire’s Intelligence Department answered directly to the Imperial Family, handling intelligence gathering and covert operations. Their exploits had once been legendary. No one could deny their role in the Empire’s victory in the Great War 42 years ago.
But with the war’s end came an era of peace. Meanwhile, the department had grown bloated beyond necessity.
The Emperor worried about its swollen size. It handled sensitive information, including the Imperial Family’s secrets—no ruler could ignore such a beast. To control it freely, he needed to trim it down.
Thus, the department’s staff dwindled. Of course, the Emperor compensated them enough to quell complaints.
As personnel shrank, so did their oversight. And the results showed: spies were already rampant in the Empire.
“I thought we had some defenses in place. They caught us off guard.”
“...”
“I’m not here to reprimand you—don’t worry. How much tech do you think leaked?”
“We assess that the matchlock rifle and cannon manufacturing techniques have leaked. However, gunpowder research and production remain under control, secure from leaks.”
“I see.”
Matchlock rifles and cannons—firearms and artillery that gave overwhelming firepower and range in war. But if the enemy armed themselves similarly, the gap would narrow.
Still, it wasn’t a major concern.
Without gunpowder, they were just cumbersome hunks of metal. And production costs were steep—even the Empire’s vast wealth strained under mass production budgets. What about lesser nations?
Even if they stole the tech and built the weapons—even if they somehow cracked gunpowder production—could they match the Empire’s output with inferior resources?
“What if not just the weapons, but gunpowder tech leaked too?”
“...Arming up quickly would be impossible. At least 2-3 years for limited deployment, we estimate.”
The Intelligence Director answered swiftly, as if anticipating the question. It matched the Emperor’s expectations.
That doesn’t mean I can sit idle.
Sending spies into the Empire couldn’t go unpunished. The Heyrn Kingdom had crossed a line—they needed accountability. The others required a warning.
“...We’ll need to bolster the department a bit more. Scout reliable personnel.”
“Understood. Then...”
Once the director left, the Emperor stared out the window, pondering the next meeting. The long peace was starting to crack.
“What do you mean by that?”
“...Just that we manipulate the lever to go forward or backward.”
“You make it sound too sim—hmm...”
“...What’s up?”
“Let me think on it.”
McCallson scribbled on the paper again. Brown watched, pondering.
Do we really need computers?
It was a recent thought. McCallson (arrogant show-off with that smug attitude that grated every time) took any idea, processed it, and eventually spat out results. Incredibly convenient. Brown returned to his seat, satisfied.
Meanwhile, McCallson paused mid-design revision.
...Something’s off.
A nagging feeling hit him.
Why am I pondering Brown’s (currently under personal observation for a deep thesis on whether his idiocy and creativity are proportional or inversely so) ideas...?
Of course, a steam locomotive idea popped up, and he forgot it.
More importantly, adding a joint here would let the lever control wheel direction. Worth tweaking. If we can adjust firepower, speed control follows.
The quill scratched faster.
“I want to try putting shock-sensitive gunpowder inside a metal cap, so impact ignites it in the chamber.”
“Hmm...”
“My concern is whether we can even make it.”
“Gunpowder...coated inside a metal cap...hmm...”
Luna Karen pondered, then replied.
“Doesn’t seem impossible. One hitch...nah. With steam engines spreading machine tools, metal caps should be mass-producible soon.”
“...That’ll take time, then.”
“Too bad.”
“Nothing for it. Thanks anyway—eases my mind.”
“Hehe. Glad I helped.”
Brown turned to leave after chatting with Luna Karen.
“Oh, more importantly, Mr. Brown.”
“Yes?”
“The escorts today, extra guards everywhere...something bad happen?”
“Who knows...”
It bugged Brown too. Why the sudden security ramp-up? He had guesses.
Hint that war’s brewing soon?
A bit later than he remembered. Likely cause?
My weapons?
The thought chilled him unconsciously.
Whoa, did I just go full McCallson?
Proximity was contagious. Such egocentric thinking.
Toxic. Useful, but...ugh.
Like radiation—valuable, but hazardous up close. Time to decontaminate his mind.
“Um...Mr. Brown?”
“Ah, yes.”
He’d zoned out, leaving her hanging a bit.
“Ahem. Probably nothing. Don’t worry.”
He couldn’t tell her war was coming.
“R-right...?”
But Luna Karen’s worry seemed elsewhere.
“If the escorts...mmph...”
Her faint mutter.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Hope things get back to normal soon. Anyway, hehe.”
She said something.
Brown puzzled over it briefly, then resumed his thoughts.
Alliance nations invading the Empire, right?
Specific names escaped him. Just fragments from a friend’s recap, protagonist-focused, a passing mention.
Hired as a mercenary by the Empire, awakened aura on the battlefield...?
Organizing his memories, Brown spotted a snag.
If she’s on guard duty here...
No way she’d go to the frontlines. Fighting only if enemies breached the capital.
This is way off...
The original story he recalled diverged significantly. Brown hoped it wasn’t his fault.