The Crows' Hidden Depths
A deep sigh nearly escaped me.
It was from disappointment.
It felt ridiculous to feel this much regret after only exchanging a few words, yet it was genuine.
It seemed I had unknowingly placed my expectations on Graf Müller—the man so admired by the action squad seniors.
I had hoped he would turn out to be a truly decent person. That was the wish I had been holding.
“I’m just curious, that’s all. I wanted to know what kind of story the little hero heard from Sir Dupont.”
He pretended it was mere friendly curiosity, but Graf Müller couldn’t hide the persistent gleam in his eyes. It was truly disappointing.
The world refused to let me live even a short while in pure innocence, without suspicion.
“It really wasn’t anything special.”
When I responded defensively again, Graf Müller’s shallow patience finally ran out.
“You really are too much. Your senior is asking you nicely… I even turned a blind eye when you were sleeping on duty, you know.”
Not only did he pull the senior card immediately, he even added a veiled threat.
Whoever called Graf Müller a good guy—take it back!
“Th-that’s not what I meant, sir. The truth is, I was so nervous that day that I don’t really remember what I said.”
When I added, “You know how scary Sir Dupont Clancher is, right?” Graf Müller’s attitude softened a little.
“If you just tell me what you’re curious about, I can answer as best I can. At least with what I know.”
In other words, hurry up and tell me exactly what you know and how far your knowledge goes.
“In the end, even the intelligence department is just a playground for the privileged. All that talk about blood ties, regional ties, and school ties.”
“It must be tough, sir. I thought a core department like intelligence would be different, but it sounds like it’s the same there too.”
“It’s all just an illusion! They stick together like glue and act so disgustingly. Last time, you see…”
I nodded my head vigorously, pretending to listen attentively to Graf Müller’s story.
At first, the conversation had begun with him trying to extract information from me, but by the time the eastern sky began to brighten faintly, the situation had completely reversed.
Graf Müller was pouring out all the grievances he had bottled up inside, revealing the inner workings of the intelligence department to me. Thanks to that, I was able to learn quite a lot.
This is as easy as eating cold oatmeal.
Extracting desired information from someone was one of my specialties.
After all, Graf Müller had only been assigned to the intelligence department; he had never received proper training. There was no way he could withstand my interrogation techniques.
His background as a low-ranking member of the action squad and the lack of any powerful backer within Knox seemed to have played a part, but that wasn’t my concern.
The important thing was this one fact: Knox’s intelligence department was truly nothing but a scarecrow.
They still had no proper information about the Green Merchants’ leader.
Graf Müller’s promotion had been purely the result of luck, just as he had claimed.
After making discreet inquiries among the merchants he had grown close to during his action squad days, he learned that the Green Merchants’ leader had been illegally selling weapons to the Crollin Kingdom, with a significant portion flowing into the black market.
Naturally, he had reported the gathered information to his superiors, and it appeared the intelligence department was now moving based on that lead.
All while remaining completely unaware of the mana overdose drug intelligence I had slipped to Decon Gold.
I’m starting to get bored now.
I had already gotten everything I could out of Graf Müller.
I had zero interest in hearing how many hardships he had overcome in his life.
The savior who appeared at that moment was, unexpectedly, Senior Hartman.
“Wait, Senior! You’re still here?”
Looking like he had enjoyed a good nap, Senior Hartman—with crusty eye discharge still clinging to his lashes—stepped out of the guard post and immediately rushed over upon spotting Graf Müller.
“Ah, I was playing around with the rookie and lost track of time.”
“I heard a lot of great stories from Senior Graf.”
Even though I openly admitted to slacking off instead of standing guard, Senior Hartman didn’t say a word about it.
He only sparkled with excitement at the chance to build even a little more rapport with Graf Müller.
“Senior, since things turned out this way, why don’t you come have breakfast with me! I know a place that makes absolutely killer bacon!”
“Sure, let’s do that.”
Graf Müller nodded readily.
Thinking it was finally over, I brushed off my backside and stood up—only for Graf Müller to suddenly ask,
“Rookie, are you interested in the intelligence department?”
“…Pardon?”
“Well, I thought it would be nice to have an action squad junior in the intelligence department.”
In other words, he wanted to take me in and use me as his personal errand boy.
“If you’re interested, I can casually put in a word. We’re short on manpower in intelligence these days.”
I spent the entire night listening to his complaints, and this is how he repays the favor?
He had only just earned his two stripes, and even then, he spent his time whining about being ignored by the young greenhorns in intelligence. There was no way he had the power to transfer a rookie like me—the youngest in the action squad—into the intelligence department.
The suggestion had clearly been made just to show off in front of his junior, Hartman.
Unfortunately, expecting Senior Hartman—who treated Graf Müller’s every word like gospel—to see through the bluff was asking too much.
“The rookie… going to intelligence…”
Envy, anger, jealousy, betrayal.
A terrifying mix of such emotions swirled in Senior Hartman’s glare as he stared at me from behind Graf Müller. It was giving me a headache.
It was obvious that before the sun set today, the rumor “The little hero has been chosen by the intelligence department” would spread like wildfire.
My forced smile began to tremble.
“I’m happy where I am in the action squad, sir. I don’t have what it takes to go somewhere as impressive as intelligence.”
My direct superior had told me to live quietly.
This was all ruined now.
Graf Müller and Senior Hartman left at the crack of dawn, and a few hours later, I safely finished my action squad shift.
After completing the youngest member’s duty of cleaning the guard post, I headed straight for the annex.
Using the secret passage that Gisela Rot and I had used once before, my second commute to the Crow's Nest went without any issues.
I was only curious about where the other paths led in the maze-like intersections that appeared along the way.
But the problem waiting for me at the Crow's Nest was Gisela Rot herself.
“Well, well! Look who it is! The talent that the intelligence department is dying to recruit—Runelk Ains himself!”
“How did you already hear about…”
“The rumor that the little hero might get scouted by intelligence has already spread throughout the entire estate. How could I not know?”
“…I’m sorry.”
I felt wronged.
But making excuses would only backfire, so I apologized first.
“Runelk Ains, are you kidding me?”
The smile that had been dancing on Gisela Rot’s face as she teased me vanished in an instant. Her expression turned deadly serious.
“I should have been more careful…”
“Getting involved with the intelligence department? With a lightweight like Graf Müller, of all people?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m so embarrassed I can barely show my face around here. Seriously.”
The focus of her anger seemed slightly different from what I had expected.
I cautiously asked the fuming Gisela Rot,
“You told me not to draw unnecessary attention… weren’t you angry that I became the subject of another rumor?”
“Of course I’m angry! But getting tangled up with the intelligence department is even worse!”
Gisela Rot exploded.
“I didn’t expect you to go back to being completely unknown after becoming the famous ‘little hero’! But did you really have to create a rumor that the intelligence department is eyeing you? And not even a proper agent—just some nobody from intelligence daring to covet a Crow?”
It seemed her pride had been wounded.
She was furious that the intelligence department—which was nothing more than a facade—was acting like it had the right to evaluate and judge me.
At least her anger wasn’t directed at me. That was a relief.
After venting for a while, Gisela Rot gave me a warning with eyes sharper than ever.
“From now on, if you see anyone from intelligence or that damned Graf Müller, you run in the opposite direction. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Haah, I’ve been worked up since morning. I feel like smashing something.”
Gisela Rot muttered as she swept her hair back, then stood up abruptly.
“Follow me.”
She headed toward the opposite side of the Crow's Nest.
Stopping in front of one of the massive bookshelves that covered an entire wall, she touched several books in a specific order.
Clunk. Rumble!
The bookshelf sank inward and then slid to the side.
The Nest wasn’t everything?