Chapter 263

Chapter 263

There’s nothing strange about the Imperial Household having its own intelligence unit or spies. After all, the Empire is filled with secrets.  

What surprised Ismael now was the fact that the person in question was standing right before him.  

"Luka… were you an imperial spy?"  

Ismael was still half in doubt.  

"I practically attempted treason alongside Crown Prince Francec. The only reason I escaped execution was because I ended up in a state of total incapacitation, no different from brain death."  

I mixed lies with the truth as I explained. The surface-level story would fit together perfectly.  

No matter how advanced the Federation’s intelligence network was, there was no way they could have uncovered the full details of the Storm Era.  

"There were many circumstances involved, but to put it simply, those who were dissatisfied with the current Emperor and some of my acquaintances smuggled me out and managed to treat me under dramatic circumstances. However, as time passed, news of my recovery reached the Empire, and I applied for asylum in the Federation to protect myself from them."  

"That’s… quite the story."  

Ismael interrupted me, taking a moment to organize his thoughts. He hadn’t expected this kind of conversation today.  

‘Ismael must have planned to use Boyan as bait to corner me with various offers.’  

I had no intention of giving Ismael the upper hand right now. I couldn't afford to lose control of the situation.  

‘I need to steer the surrounding circumstances in my favor.’  

I boldly handed Ismael some information to shake him.  

"If the Deputy Minister and the Federation government’s objective is to put Francec on the throne, then I’m willing to cooperate actively. However, I’ll need a certain degree of autonomy and support."  

"Luka, you must remain under my control. That was the directive from above."  

Even faced with my assertiveness, Ismael refused to back down.  

"The Empire’s Blade is an organization composed of proud Imperial Guards. They despise the current Emperor, Ivan Accretia, but that doesn’t mean they’re traitors. If they judge that I’ve become nothing more than a dog of the Federation, they’ll start distancing themselves from me."  

Ismael’s expression gradually hardened. He was surely trying to reclaim control and figure out a way to restrain me.  

"For now… well, if you have any specific requests, state them. I’ll listen and decide."  

Ismael was stalling for time, carefully weighing his options.  

"Grant me permission and support to operate outside of Border City. I will monitor the movements of the Empire’s Blade and report back to you. The Empire’s Blade does not recognize the Federation as an ally, but if things are handled correctly, they’ll naturally end up cooperating with you."

Ismael took a breath before speaking calmly.  

"I might be interpreting this a bit cynically, but it sounds like you're saying you intend to act independently, free from the Federation's control. Using me and the Federation only in times of crisis."  

Ismael was no easy opponent. He wasn’t about to let go of my leash so easily.  

I neither denied nor affirmed his words and simply continued speaking.  

"Judging by the atmosphere when I made contact with the Empire’s Blade, they’re preparing to make a decisive move. Deputy Minister, all you need to do is indirectly provide weapons and equipment. As long as the preparations are in place, I’ll instruct the Empire’s Blade to attack a Federation supply convoy. For great gains, you must be willing to take significant risks."  

Ismael stroked his chin.  

I glanced around, as if to urge him. This wasn’t a place where we could discuss classified information for long.  

"Hmm… This is a gamble that only works if I place complete trust in you, Luka. I did ask you to make contact with the Empire’s Blade, but things are moving much faster than I anticipated. Almost unnaturally so."  

Ismael clasped his hands together, concealing the slight movement of his fingers—a subtle sign of anxiety.  

"This is as far as my persuasion goes. The rest is up to your judgment, Deputy Minister."  

His gaze grew cold. He unlinked his fingers and began tapping them together in a steady rhythm. It was likely his personal way of organizing his thoughts.  

"My thoughts are…"  

A sharp blade of insight was about to escape Ismael’s lips.  

"…I suspect that you're also cooperating with other factions beyond my sight, Luka. To seize control of the situation and manipulate it to your advantage. I don’t know how far or how deep your connections go, but…"  

Ismael hadn’t wavered. He wasn’t swept away by the torrent of shocking revelations; instead, he cut straight to the truth with piercing insight.  

‘Damn. This guy is going places.’  

As long as he didn’t get himself killed, he was bound to rise through the ranks.  

A superior’s true strength wasn’t just the ability to gather information—it was the judgment to filter out the noise and the insight to grasp the essence of a situation.  

I hadn’t expected Ismael to be this sharp. This time, I was the one who almost faltered.  

To put it nicely, I was a mediator. To put it bluntly, I was playing both sides like a bat flitting between two worlds.  

I pondered how best to persuade him further.  

At that moment, Ismael spoke.  

"Very well, Luka. I’ll loosen the leash. Do as you please. You’re right—significant gains require significant risks."

Ismael smiled, as if putting on a mask with a neatly drawn grin.  

‘Damn it, it’s hard to read why he suddenly changed his attitude.’  

It felt like I had suddenly lost control of the situation. Even though the outcome had gone exactly as I intended, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had played right into Ismael’s hands.  

"Luka, I won’t be reporting to my superiors right away that you’ve infiltrated the Empire’s Blade. As you can see, our security here isn’t exactly airtight. The fewer people who know a secret, the better. This is strictly a deal between you and me, and you’ll have to bear the stigma and the risks that come with it."  

I knew exactly what he meant by stigma and risks.  

‘Ha.’  

It was a familiar situation. Rather than unsettling me, it actually put me at ease.  

Every organization operated this way—if a tail got caught, they simply cut it off.  

In other words, if things went south, they’d erase all evidence and act like nothing ever happened.  

‘So, if necessary, they’ll pin everything on me and wash their hands of it.’  

That was fine.  

I had secured Ismael’s verbal agreement to cooperate. Now, I had to take this and make my proposal to the Empire’s Blade. The more these negotiations bounced back and forth, the bigger they would grow—just like a snowball rolling downhill.  

Suddenly, Kinuan came to mind.  

He had probably maneuvered the same way.  

*         *         *  

When I woke up, I checked the holographic newspaper.  

There, tucked into a corner of today's articles, was a photo of Boyan and Ismael. Boyan wore an awkward expression, while Ismael was smiling brightly beside him.  

- Why did the Strategic Weapons Research Department make a special hire of a Crawler?  

- Hired for an administrative position rather than a combat or field role. An unusual case…  

- "There should be no fixed roles or prejudices based on species." "Crawlers can work in the same space as us." Deputy Minister Ismael La expresses strong support.  

It was making small waves in the media. Whether those ripples turned into something bigger depended on Boyan and Ismael.  

‘I pulled the trigger.’  

No matter how things unfolded, the Empire’s Blade was the closest organization to Giselle’s whereabouts.  

‘Either Giselle is among their leadership, or at the very least, they know where she is. The Empire didn’t orchestrate her disappearance, so she must be with them.’  

If Giselle were in the Empire’s grasp, Ivan would have already played that card against me.  

The fact that he hadn’t meant that she hadn’t disappeared because of some imperial scheme.  

That meant the Empire’s Blade must know where she was. I needed to gain their trust and work my way into their core.  

‘The ideal outcome would be getting Giselle’s location from Lante’s persuasion alone.’

I waited the full ten days that Lante had promised. The moment the deadline passed, he made contact while I was wandering the streets.  

Lante emerged from the crowd without a word and stood in front of me. A silent signal to follow.  

But we didn’t head to the underground base. Instead, Lante led me to a bustling entertainment district—one of Border City’s… so-called "youthful" streets.  

The area was filled with distractions: cross-species fighting matches, virtual simulation arcades, rare creature exhibitions—an endless stretch of sights and experiences stacked on top of each other.  

It all looked glamorous, but back alleys were always damp and shadowy.  

Creak.  

Lante turned into one of those alleys and pushed open the door of an old simulation shop. The location was terrible, and the sign was so worn-out and unlit that the place barely stood out.  

Inside, rows of outdated simulation machines—decades old—were the first thing I saw. Deeper in, there weren’t any proper customers, just drifters who had dozed off after indulging in adult simulations, some of them passed out with their pants still down. The crumpled tissues scattered around gave off a pungent stench.  

"Go to seat 46."  

Lante whispered as he plucked a simulation chip from the wall and paid at the counter.  

Thud.  

I sat down at seat 46, put on the simple simulation headset, and pulled down the goggles.  

Lante approached, inserted the chip into the device, and explained.  

"This machine looks like a regular simulation device, but it's actually a communication terminal for the organization. Once the chip is inserted, it'll connect you directly to someone from the 'head.' The call will last exactly fifteen minutes. I hope you’ll be joining us safely."  

With that, Lante took a step back. His hand slipped into his coat, and the garment seemed heavier than usual.  

‘He's hiding weapons and equipment under his coat. If things go south, he’ll either kill me or at least subdue me.’  

I had let Lante get behind me.  

Giving the initiative to someone of his caliber was extremely dangerous.  

‘But risks must be taken.’  

I had come too far to turn back now. I had prepared for this.  

Bzzz.  

The virtual simulation device whirred to life. But instead of launching a simulation, it opened a virtual reality-based communication network.  

Chhh—ckkk—tchhh.  

The characteristic static of an unstable network buzzed in my ears. The display inside the goggles flickered with distortion. I frowned slightly at the discomfort.

I sharpened my senses as if allocating a portion of them to Lante. He stood motionless behind me. It felt like I had placed my neck in the hands of an executioner wielding a blade.  

Srrrk.  

I traced my fingers over my weapons, checking their positions.  

Gradually, the virtual reality transmission became clearer. The space that now dominated my vision and hearing was so simplistic that calling it a "virtual reality" felt like an exaggeration.  

Whoosh.  

I felt as though I was slipping down a slide, being pulled in. But I maintained control, keeping as much of my senses grounded in reality as possible.  

…A pure white space unfolded before me. A space utterly devoid of complexity.  

Click. Clack.  

A virtual signal stimulated my hearing. My brain was tricked into perceiving it as reality.  

"You finally found me, Luka."  

Along with the sound of footsteps, a clear voice rang out.  

The space distorted, molding itself into the shape of a person. The first thing that caught my eye was dark blue hair.  

Srrrk.  

It was longer than before, flowing lazily down. The figure before me was more mature—no, she had shed the last traces of girlhood.  

A fleeting thought raced through my mind. Heat surged in my head, as if it were about to burst.  

‘Doubt it.’  

I repeated the command to my brain as if drilling it into my mind.  

Something was wrong. Something felt off. There was no way Giselle had remained with the Empire’s Blade, let alone still held a leadership position.  

‘If Giselle were actively serving as the "head" of the Empire’s Blade… there would be far too many inconsistencies.’  

This was virtual reality, yet I wanted to believe that the person before me was Giselle. Was I really meeting her this easily? It was an enticingly sweet reality.  

But I was far too cynical to believe in a conveniently happy outcome that didn’t add up.  

Piecing together the clues I had gathered so far, there weren’t many missing fragments. Even simple elimination could lead to a conclusion.  

"It’s been a while, Barbara. Or… maybe not that long?"  

That was my answer.  

Giselle’s form wavered. Strands of tangled orange hair flickered into view. In virtual reality, one could be anything—even reconstruct a lost body.  

"…Hehe, you’re still as sharp as ever, Luka."  

Barbara covered her mouth with one hand and laughed. And though this was just an image within virtual reality, in her other hand, she clutched a kitchen knife.  

I didn’t know what the knife was supposed to symbolize, but it certainly wasn’t anything good.

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