Letters Carry Memories (1)

The operation that began at two in the morning finally concluded when the morning sun had fully risen.

“Insane.”

A man let out a heavy sigh as he gazed at the wreckage of the Hornet’s Nest, which had been reduced to utter ruin in a single night, as if a Titan assault had swept through. Raft Bellus. He was a senior member of the Imperial Labor Party—the parent organization of the Revolutionary Front—and simultaneously served as the commander of the Front’s 4th Regiment.

Beside him stood Dien Schmidt, who had completely defected to the Security Bureau’s side. Of course, aside from Werner and Karin, not even the Bureau’s own personnel knew he was a turncoat.

“The Chancellor must have made up his mind for real this time. I thought he was just a well-trained hunting dog… but this is no different from a wild beast.”

If he hadn’t chosen to defect when he did, he too would have become a cold corpse by dawn. The mere thought sent a chill down his spine.

‘It wasn’t time yet. I acted too rashly.’

His sigh also carried pity for his revolutionary comrades who had now become irreversible casualties. Raft belonged to the moderate faction within the Imperial Labor Party. During the Titan War, he had even risen to the rank of major in the Eastern Military District. Thanks to his military officer background, he had naturally been appointed as a regimental commander in the Revolutionary Front, but he held little real power.

The reason the operation against the Eastern Army Headquarters had not been canceled despite his vehement opposition was simple. No matter how dull and peace-addled the Eastern Military District had become, such radical terrorism offered the Revolutionary Front no gains whatsoever. The attack had failed, and the aftermath was precisely today’s tragedy.

Having lost precious comrades to the hardliners’ recklessness, Raft Bellus felt nothing but rage.

“Commissioner Bellus, sir. That’s the man over there.”

At Dien Schmidt’s words, Raft turned his head. A man in a black uniform was approaching slowly—Werner Grime.

‘He really is young, just as I heard.’

Two golden chrysanthemums glittered on the young officer’s epaulets. From his very stride, Raft could sense unshakable resolve. There was not a trace of hesitation or fear. The gaze that met his was filled with intelligence and wisdom, yet those faintly glowing eyes carried an eerie, almost demonic light.

Security Strategic Agency Director, Werner Grime.

Judging by appearance alone, he seemed to be in his mid-twenties. Thanks to the war, it wasn’t uncommon to see generals in their twenties, but a lieutenant colonel at that age still meant his abilities were highly recognized within the military. Just that fact was enough to make Raft feel overwhelmed from the start.

Though there was a considerable age gap—Raft Bellus was already well into his forties—the difference in their stature was clear from the very first exchange of glances. It was only natural. This man was the leader of the beasts that had crushed the Revolutionary Front in a single night.

Still, since he had come to negotiate, Raft could not afford to appear disheveled or weak. He straightened his posture and extended his hand first.

“I am Raft Bellus, Supreme Committee Member of the Imperial Labor Party.”

“A pleasure, Commissioner. I am Werner Grime, Director of the Security Bureau.”

The two men exchanged a formal handshake. The moment their hands met, Werner went straight to the point.

“First, please accept my deepest condolences regarding the Revolutionary Front. By the time we arrived, we could not find a single survivor. It appears they annihilated each other in an internal conflict.”

The absurd statement nearly made Raft Bellus burst into bitter laughter, but he desperately held it back.

Aaah. So this is how you want to play it from the very beginning.

It was a blatant lie with eyes wide open. The story had already been arranged in advance. The existing leadership had been trying to shift the blame for the revolution’s failure onto him anyway. No matter how high his position as a Supreme Committee Member of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Labor Party, they had clearly seen him as an interfering outsider. It was inevitable. In this world, if you didn’t want to die, you killed first.

So Raft nodded toward Werner and replied.

“We will take care of the incident caused by a few hardliners. The Imperial Labor Party has no desire for armed conflict with the Eastern Military District.”

“His Excellency the Chancellor has also shown great magnanimity in recognizing the ideological value of the Imperial Labor Party. Now that we must all rise above the scars of war, I sincerely hope you will do your utmost, Commissioner Bellus.”

“…Thank you, Director.”

From that day on, the Security Bureau became an uncomfortable neighbor to the Revolutionary Front and the Imperial Labor Party. For now, the matter was settled.

But Werner had not the slightest intention of ending things so lukewarmly.

While Raft Bellus was busy reorganizing the Revolutionary Front around its moderate faction and the remnants friendly to him, several committee members and senior figures of the Imperial Labor Party began to disappear. Some were found beaten half to death by thugs in back alleys and left crippled. Others became drug-addled wrecks who frequented brothels like it was their daily meal. Still others had their entire families slaughtered when robbers broke into their bedrooms.

Even individuals who had never once been publicly announced as Revolutionary Front officials suffered horrific fates. Never mind how he had known their identities—the mastermind behind it all was painfully obvious.

“W-was there any need to go this far?! You clearly said you would mediate the dispute between the Eastern Military District and the Imperial Labor Party…!”

In the end, a furious Raft visited the Security Strategic Agency’s Eastern Military District branch.

“At this rate, only the Eastern Military District’s power will grow stronger! If you’re going back on your word now, then we won’t just sit—.”

“I kept my promise. Here.”

“??”

Raft could only fall silent after reading the newspaper Werner had placed on the desk.

The dissolution of the Eastern Army Headquarters.

It wasn’t only the Imperial Labor Party that had been stripped of its core assets. To think he would wipe out an entire headquarters in one fell swoop.

Raft barely managed to suppress the hiccup that nearly escaped him.

“An embargo had been in place until now. Since it concerns internal military affairs, I regret that I could not inform you in advance.”

“…”

“The Eastern Army Headquarters that had been harassing your comrades no longer exists. Those who claimed to be part of the Imperial Capital faction and engaged in corruption have all been arrested and sent to the capital. They will be punished according to the severity of their crimes. Or do you desire even more than this?”

“…No. It seems I was mistaken.”

Under the piercing gaze that seemed to see right through him, the leader of the Revolutionary Front swallowed dryly and rose from his seat. It was clear this man was not someone to be provoked recklessly.

“Leee~ahhh~!!!”

Colonel Julia Anke let out a bizarre cry as she flung open the door to Leah Gilliard’s private quarters.

“Kyaa! You scared me!!”

Startled by the regimental commander’s sudden visit, Leah jumped and quickly hid whatever she had been holding. It was pure instinct.

“Your reaction every time I surprise you is just too funny. So what is it this time? Writing another letter?”

“Ah… yes… that’s right.”

“Wow, this is seriously persistent. Don’t you think it’s about time you actually meet the guy?”

Julia shook her head as she glanced at Leah’s hands clasped neatly behind her back.

Leah Gilliard had been exchanging letters with the problematic captain she had become smitten with during the previous banquet. And not just any letters—handwritten ones! Not texts, not phone calls, but actual letters in this day and age. To Julia, both of them seemed equally obsessive.

In an era where pressing a single button allowed real-time video calls with someone across the ocean, what was the point of letters?

Leah knew it wasn’t normal either, so she simply blushed and lowered her head.

“His unit is apparently attached to Supreme Headquarters. Since he’s a junior officer, it’s not easy for him to move around outside of work.”

“Well, when I was a captain I was so busy I thought I’d die. Running around the battlefield, writing reports in the rear. And since it’s a special agency, I bet the workload is no joke.”

She spoke as if reminiscing about the distant past. In truth, it had been less than three years ago.

“Anyway, Leah, want some late-night snacks? Letters are fine, but let’s eat first.”

Julia shook the plastic bag in her hand. It was food she had personally packed from downtown right after her overtime shift. Ten o’clock at night—the time when people felt the hungriest. Leah’s stomach was rumbling at just the right moment.

She quickly set the letter she had been writing on the desk and unfolded the low table.

“Haaah…”

Julia plopped down in front of the table and let out a deep sigh.

“It must be really tough, huh?”

“Does it make any sense that our unit’s affiliation suddenly changed? At least it’s a combat unit directly under headquarters and not some technical administrative unit. If it had been, I would’ve gone crazy dealing with inventory and returns.”

“It was a bit sudden. Still… now that the Titans are completely gone, it was strange for the Eastern Military District—which already had a narrow area of responsibility—to remain. So it’s not surprising that His Excellency the Chancellor issued such orders.”

“Right? The nobles who used to throw their weight around are all going to disappear now.”

It was essentially the Chancellor’s purge, yet the commanders of the Eastern Military District did not see it that way. Those born with noble blood had received preferential treatment in personnel matters within the Eastern District. Naturally, the commoners and officers transferred from other regions had grown sick of the blatant discrimination.

“So how are the letters going? Any progress? You haven’t met, but it’s obvious from the content, isn’t it?”

“Ah… well…”

Leah awkwardly scratched her cheek. It had already been nearly ten days since they started exchanging letters, yet there wasn’t a single substantial line. They were closer to reports: what duties he performed today, what duties he would perform tomorrow.

If Leah had even the slightest romantic experience, she would have recognized it as a form of ‘drawing a line.’ Unfortunately, she had no such knowledge to make that judgment.

“It’s not going well at all. I knew it.”

“It’s harder than I thought.”

“And you only managed to get his address because your former commander pulled some strings, right?”

“Not former commander—Vice Commander.”

“Right, Brigadier General Arhen.”

The only reason she had been able to exchange letters with the captain wearing the black cat mask was thanks entirely to Arhen Orca’s help. While continuing her investigation into the Revolutionary Front and the Security Strategic Agency, she had used her authority as Inspector General to secure the route. At first the Security Bureau had resisted, calling it overreach, but they eventually relented—probably because they didn’t want to deal with a persistent Inspector General—and simply gave her the address.

She had gone through so much trouble to obtain it, only to be unable to make any use of it. Tsk tsk tsk.

Julia could not help but feel pity for her subordinate and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠junior, who was utterly hopeless when it came to romance.

“If you want, should I just introduce you to another man?”

“Ah, no. I’m really fine.”

Just as she was about to politely decline Julia’s kindness—

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on the door of the quarters. It was already close to midnight, a very late hour. There shouldn’t be anyone visiting.

“Huh? Leah, did you order more late-night food?”

“No.”

“Then who could it be? Who is it~?”

Julia stood up. It was possible someone had simply knocked on the wrong door, but the place they were staying was an exclusive dormitory for female officers. They could not completely rule out the possibility that someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with ill intentions had broken in. After all, there had been reports of an underwear thief in the neighboring regiment. Now that the war was over and life had become easier, people’s minds were starting to loosen.

When Julia opened the door—

Plop.

A single letter that had been wedged in the doorframe fell to the floor.

The sender written on the envelope read:

“Graveyard?”

It was the fortress where Leah had once served, now closed down. There was no reason for a letter to come from a decommissioned fortress.

When Leah opened the suspicious letter, she found words cut out ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from a newspaper and pasted together.