The Paris Commune, Part 3
With our return home drawing near, I watched the sunlight streaming through the window and sighed. "If circumstances allowed, I'd love to stay in Paris. More than anything, I really love the weather here."
"Be that as it may, Milady, you know better than anyone that we have no choice, given the sheer difference in the scale of our operations back home."
Cruelly indifferent to my wishes, the final day of our French trip was drawing closer by the minute, just as Pavel said. Granted, the turn of the century wasn't some uncivilized Stone Age. Managing the syndicate's affairs remotely wasn't impossible, but there was a clear drop in efficiency. If that was true even in the era I originally came from, it was doubly so in 1997.
Still, I shook my head and let out a soft groan. "Sigh, to think I have to go back to that gloomy city..."
At the Paris branch, the men were busy digitizing all the documents that had cleared our initial review. The plan was to leave the physical originals in Paris and carry only the data, burned onto DVDs, back to London. If I used Charm on the border guards like I did when I first entered the UK, we wouldn't get caught, but I saw no reason to take unnecessary risks. It wasn't a combat situation where every second counted.
Besides, hauling boxes of documents would attract too many prying eyes. If the syndicate grew larger and we could cross borders as if they were our own front yard, we wouldn't have to worry about this. But that day was not today.
The members of the Paris branch were busy scanning documents and operating computers in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Meanwhile, the executives, including myself, watched them work from above.
"That mountain of documents is finally shrinking. It feels like the cleanup took longer than crushing the Commune itself."
The "Commune" was the name used by those among the Marseille traitors who were heavily influenced by Moscow. True to their nature as Reds, the name itself reeked of sour communism.
"It actually did take longer. If it weren't for Blumfeld, wouldn't it have taken even longer than the six weeks you originally estimated, Milady?"
"Indeed."
Today marked exactly one month of my trip to France. Looking at the progress, the digitization would likely finish today. Once this was wrapped up, I would have absolutely no reason to remain in Paris.
Well, if I had to be precise, maybe there's one reason left. I hadn't chosen gifts for my loyal subordinates yet.
The five pillars of the organization who made up the Pentarchy, Rybakov of the IRA, and Durand, the Paris branch manager. There were already seven members I had to pay special attention to. Since I had come all the way to Paris—even though three of them were currently in this city—shouldn't I provide them with some welfare to "maintain their dignity"?
The organization I rebuilt with my own hands was different from those pathetic small businesses in South Korea, where despite having barely any employees, everyone printed business cards calling themselves director, managing director, or president.
I thought about the items for a moment, and decided that jewelry would be appropriate. Casting defensive magic or handing over the improved Rosetta Stone were things I already did, so this time, a purely material reward seemed better.
I left the abandoned factory site where the scanning was taking place. Then, with Pavel in tow, I headed to various boutiques in downtown Paris.
"Which looks better, this one or that one?"
"Even if you ask me that, Milady..."
"Hmm, fair point."
Since neither Pavel nor I had much knowledge of jewelry, we ran into a bit of a wall. I felt a pang of regret, thinking that if Delice had been by my side, we could have made a more meticulous choice.
"Then let's think of it this way. If you were giving a gift to Delice, which would be better?"
"Why Blumfeld of all people?"
"Does that bother you? Then pretend you're buying a gift for me."
"...In that case, this one is better."
Shrugging at the guy who answered my question with another question, I waited. Pavel finally chose one after a brief moment of thought. For the male members' accessories, I asked him similarly, "Imagine you're buying a gift for Rybakov or Father," and picked them out.
It was better to buy everything in one place. Spending about a hundred thousand francs was now a level of expense I could easily afford at any time. After leaving the Cartier boutique on the Champs-Élysées with shopping bags full, we walked slowly toward the Arc de Triomphe.
"..."
As we walked slowly, conscious of the gaze of the person trailing us, Pavel spoke up first.
"By the way, Milady."
"Yes?"
"How long are you going to let her follow us? It's starting to look a bit awkward."
"I suppose so. Shall we find a place to sit?"
The person following us was none other than Delice. No matter how much freedom the Ministry's investigation team enjoyed, she wasn't in a position to openly meet me or Pavel in public.
Delice had secured her freedom of movement by telling the Ministry of Magic that she was tailing a suspect. Her fake passion to investigate the suspect of the British Museum raid even while on a semi-vacation business trip was more than enough to leave a great impression on the Ministry's old geezers.
The excuse of British citizens meeting in a foreign land to foster goodwill supported Delice's plan to get close to us while hiding her identity. Thus, Delice, who sat at the same outdoor sidewalk cafe as Pavel and me, moved to our table after a slight delay.
In the report she would submit to the Ministry later, she would write that she "heard English" and struck up a casual conversation. Well, the actual conversation we were about to have would be entirely different.
I ordered three cups of coffee and dessert, then immediately turned the topic to syndicate business.
"It's so inconvenient not having an informant in the Soviet Union. I have no idea how they're going to move."
With the fog of war slowly spreading across the world map, my movements were bound to be restricted. The only areas I had uncovered so far were three countries—the UK, Ireland, and France.
The only news about the Soviet Union in today's paper was that the 40th anniversary of the Sputnik 1 launch was celebrated grandly in Moscow. Of course, even if they were discussing or implementing magical countermeasures against me, nothing would be obtainable through normal channels, but it was still frustrating.
Delice answered after chewing on a macaron. "But if there's one saving grace... it's that we aren't the only issue they have to worry about."
"Yes, that's exactly what we need to exploit. We can focus solely on dealing with the Materialists, but they can't."
A giant's movements are bound to be sluggish. Even more so when it is the world's largest country by territory, the second-largest superpower, and the third-most populous nation.
Regardless of how efficient the "Council" was, the sheer size of the massive state was the problem. Due to its bloated size, there were bound to be countless matters requiring the Soviet Union's attention.
How much manpower was consumed just managing the administrative affairs of the vast union? How much diplomatic power was spent spreading communism across the globe? And in the midst of all this, how much national power was drained waging a Cold War against the free world led by the United States?
No matter how much the Soviet of Materialists defined me as a grave threat, it couldn't be their top priority. As such, I believed in their state-level administrative inefficiency.
Furthermore, state-level operations inevitably carried significant risks if exposed. For instance, suppose they sent mages to London. If things went wrong, it wouldn't just end with the dispatched mages being slaughtered by me like this time; it could escalate into a full-blown diplomatic incident.
What would they do if I anonymously reported them to the British Ministry of Magic and the Foreign Office? Therefore, as long as I maintained a base in the UK, a decapitation strike against me was out of the question in the Reds' playbook. The best they could do was anticipate my moves and throw a wrench in them.
The problem was that even those wrenches could feel incredibly heavy to me and my syndicate. I wasn't in a position to completely ignore the difference in our weight classes.
"We can't vaguely expect this kind of luck to last forever... but I'm glad your wishes and goals are steadily progressing, Milady."
This time, it was Pavel's murmur. I nodded readily. "True. I just have to steel myself."
The conversation naturally flowed into the syndicate's future plans. "Then, Lady Yerina, what are you thinking for our next move?"
"Hmm... the problem is there's nothing concrete. Or rather, the problem is that there are too many places where I need to step in personally."
"You should also consider that your movements will be restricted until you completely seize control of the Ministry of Magic and the British government..."
Yes, that was also a problem. Since I had packaged this French trip as a business trip to secure clients for Szczecin-Oder Logistics as a cover, it wouldn't be much different in the future.
"But if there's a silver lining... the countries I'm thinking of right now won't require me to make up excuses to visit."
"Do you mean the cover story and the actual reason overlap?"
"A lie mixed with truth is always the most dangerous. Besides, that country will do anything right now as long as it brings in foreign currency."
Dollars would be the most urgent, but they wouldn't reject pounds either. Even if all our syndicate members, including myself, were mages, there was no reason to handle everything with magic.
The era of invading colonies with guns and swords gradually faded after World War II. The modern trend was to subordinate and encroach more sophisticatedly through economic and diplomatic means. Running a syndicate was no different.
Delice seemed to have a rough idea of which country I was talking about. "I think I understand. May I take it that you intend to exploit the foreign exchange crisis of Asian nations?"
"Yes, though I'll have to talk to Finance back in London to know exactly which country would be best."
In South Korea, the foreign investor registration system probably wouldn't be abolished for another twenty years, right? There were also industries where investment was restricted. Since there would be other variables I didn't know about, it was right to enter only after fully understanding the local situation and laws.
There was also a reason I couldn't tell Pavel and Delice. The part of history most prominently altered by the survival of the Soviet Union was none other than Asia. So, on my next trip, I might directly experience the reasons for the historical alteration, one way or another. I was even expecting to reap some rewards from this. But not right now; it was something to think about gradually.
I sipped the last of my coffee and stood up. "Well, it's about time—"
Or rather, I tried to stand up.
"Milady...?"
"Lady Yerina...?"
In an instant, the entire world shook. The sky and the earth violently convulsed, repeatedly closing in on me and then pulling away. As if a massive earthquake had struck, my soul and body vibrated violently at the same time, and I collapsed back into my chair, clutching my forehead.
While Pavel and Delice rushed to support me in panic, I struggled through my confusion to pinpoint the source of the vibration. The ground and buildings aren't actually shaking, so it's not a real earthquake... which means it's magic...
No matter how I thought about it, it made no sense. A single spell couldn't possibly leave such a massive magical signature, and if it was a combination of multiple spells, mages would have to be scattered all over Paris. And if that were the case, they couldn't have avoided our surveillance network. This meant it wasn't a spell cast nearby.
As I looked around frantically, tracing the origin, my eyes met Pavel's and Delice's. Judging by their expressions, they had finally realized the anomaly, even if they were slower than me.
Maintaining my composure, I expanded my search radius. If not nearby, then all of Paris; if not all of Paris, then Île-de-France; if not Île-de-France, then the entirety of France. But none of those were correct. The origin of the magic was much further east. And it wasn't just moderately far—it was thousands of kilometers away.
Thus, when the grand, earthquake-like vibration finally ceased, the scale of the magic, which had snowballed, had reached a level beyond my imagination. I muttered in a daze.
"...A spell spanning an entire nation."
The Materialists had done something absurd.