7-4 Into The Imperial City

So, starting this morning, I’d been working hard to hunt down souvenirs.

My dependable buddy was a girl from the embassy.

Her name was Milty-chan.

Since she was my “buddy,” she also had a pretty nice body.

And she was cute, too.

So there you have it—this old man was out shopping with a cute girl, grinning like an idiot the whole time.

Keeping important visitors from the homeland happy was also part of the ambassador’s job.

It was the same as Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs—this kind of steady relationship-building had a lot to do with promotions.

Count Marius was truly a smooth operator.

First, I asked to see the “picture crafts” I’d been curious about.

When I told Milty-chan I wanted to see them, she guided me to a specialty shop.

And once I laid eyes on them, I was stunned.

Th-this is…!

It was animated footage—via a magical device!

A-an analog animation, I guess.

That caught me completely off guard.

Terrifying, the Empire.

For the first time, I felt genuine fear toward the Empire.

When I heard “picture crafts,” I’d expected something like photo cards, or toys with drawings on them.

But this thing had countless drawings on thin, durable sheets, and the mechanism wound them rapidly like film.

Like an old 8mm projector.

It even had a magical device that shone light from behind, projecting the moving image onto the front glass—like a screen.

It didn’t seem like they’d thought of projecting it onto a big screen, though.

…Did people of this world build something like this on their own?

Was that even possible?

If a rare visitor had provided technical cooperation to the Empire, it wouldn’t even be surprising if they had magical tanks.

After all, they already had “motors” that could be repurposed into parts.

Mount “magic cannons” instead of modern weapons, and you’d have ordinary soldiers turning into high-mobility magic artillery troops.

Use magic stones harvested from monsters in the dungeons—supposedly abundant in the Empire—as the power source.

Hmm…

My feet stopped without me realizing it.

If the enemy had mass-produced new weapons with that kind of mobility and firepower, the Albatross Kingdom would be trampled easily.

If I advised His Majesty, it would become a conversation about developing similar weapons on our side.

And with this country’s focus on magical engineering, they might be able to develop such cutting-edge tech quickly.

I really didn’t want things like that to exist in this world.

It would absolutely result in piles of dead bodies filling the streets.

And cities reduced to rubble.

And that was in a world where life was already cheap.

“When did this device start circulating in your country?”

I asked Milty-chan.

“I believe… about five months ago.”

She answered, sounding puzzled herself.

Five months…

That was not long after I arrived.

Could this be the work of one of my “compatriots”?

“For now, I want a bunch of them. And I want the… content reels, too.”

“The… content reels?”

“Oh—uh, I mean, it’s a machine that can show different picture-scrolls, right?”

“Yes, exactly. You know quite a lot.”

Well, I could see it would make a great souvenir for kids.

When I got back, I’d ask Mari what she thought.

And I’d ask the ambassador whether it was possible there was a rare visitor in this country.

For now, the souvenir hunt continued.

I also found picture books that didn’t seem to exist in the kingdom.

Strangely, none of them had any political messaging at all.

Neither did the animation device’s “content reels.”

Did they just not think that way?

That was genuinely surprising.

Old Soviet science fiction novels practically reeked of communism—like they’d been smoked and cured in ideology.

As an elementary school kid who didn’t care about politics at all, I couldn’t understand the ideological backdrop, and I used to tilt my head at the bizarre phrasing.

And those idiots stocked that garbage in an elementary school library, too.

This was why those rotten, shit-for-brains leftist teachers’ unions were such a headache.

Out on the street, I occasionally saw demi-humans wearing collars.

They were all beastfolk.

So these were demi-human slaves.

“Are beastfolk the only demi-humans in this country?”

“Yes, most of them are,” Milty-chan replied, “but sometimes there are elves, too.”

Clunk. Elves?

So this world had those suspicious types, too?

I absolutely had to see them.

I immediately tried to wheedle Milty-chan into giving me an “elf tour,” but she made a troubled face, turned bright red, and started stammering.

“Um… elves, you see… they’re often… extremely beautiful…”

Ah. That kind of demand.

“Sorry. My bad for pushing. Let’s go with sweets next.”

Well, I got to see a cute girl blush, so it was fine.

After that, we hit a whole bunch of confectionery shops, and my souvenir lineup became pretty impressive.

Now I could withdraw at any time and still keep my dignity as “Director” intact!

The imperial expedition had ended in total success—

No, it hadn’t. Not even close.

Not until Antonio finished his A-Rank exam.

I probably wouldn’t be able to go back to the beast-eared nursery for a while.

Though I did go see the little ones’ sleeping faces last night.

Long live teleportation magic.

As long as I crossed the border through official channels, after that I could slip out whenever I wanted.

Antonio had a teleportation bracelet, too—if things went bad, he could run.

And then we could counterattack afterward.

Sneak up from behind, quietly—

Yeah, I’d join him for that.

Because we were buddies.

After that, we made the rounds of clothing shops and bought a ton of kids’ clothes.

Different country, different vibe—there were styles you didn’t see back home.

After lunch, we headed back to the embassy.

Man, the Empire’s food was good, too.

The Empire’s unexpectedly pleasant “true face.”

It felt nothing like Earth’s Soviet Union.

Life for people in the old Eastern Bloc had been nothing but misery.

The Soviet Union itself had been spectacularly bad at making money.

No wonder people never stopped trying to flee.

And after the USSR collapsed, those former satellite states flipping one after another to the West was basically because they didn’t want to stay poor.

Russia seemed furious about it, but that was exactly what you called reaping what you sowed.

If someone told you, “Live in extreme poverty with me until you die,” who would follow them?

From the looks of it, this place wasn’t like that.

Which almost made it worse—because it wouldn’t conveniently collapse on its own like the USSR had.

Then I asked Count Marius directly.

“Hey. Be honest—does the Empire have a rare visitor too?”

The count paused, then asked in return,

“Why do you think so?”

“Because if the Empire has a rare visitor, the Albatross Kingdom will probably lose. They already have bigger military power than we do, right?”

The count frowned, glared up at the air, and folded his arms.

“As you know, the Empire is steeped in elitism—imperials and nobles believe they are the chosen. Commoners are oppressed, and demi-humans are slaves. If the Empire did have a rare visitor, and if they were discovered, they would likely be confined in secret and never shown publicly. Even we cannot know for certain.”

“Did His Majesty tell you about me?”

“Yes. That you are a rare visitor. And that we must never show you any disrespect.”

“Mm. From my perspective, this looks like technology built with traces of a rare visitor.”

I said that and showed him the animation device I’d bought.

“This technology can be repurposed into powerful weapons.”

“That…!”

The ambassador’s eyes widened in surprise.

After all, this was just a toy meant to be a souvenir.

“Can you trace where it came from? It might be a key reason the Empire is poking at the kingdom right now.”

“Understood. I will have it investigated immediately.”

The count stood up at once and moved with crisp efficiency.

All right. That handled most of what I needed.

Now what?

For the time being, I returned to Antonio’s inn.

“How’s your situation?”

“Same as ever.”

“Got it.”

Then, I guess I’d go for a little walk.

I approached the people tailing Antonio while hiding my presence, and put markers on them one after another.

And I used up the remaining eight markers perfectly.

I kept the markers on the Palmia woman and Marquis Nielsen.

Then I started visiting the others in sequence.

Seriously—praise be to Dissearch.

I wasn’t getting caught at all.

The first one to move slipped off a main street of the imperial capital and entered a shady, run-down bar in a back alley.

He seemed to be reporting to a “boss” behind the counter—someone who looked like a tavern owner.

But his eyes were far too sharp for a simple bar owner.

Nice. Reporting and communication was important.

I decided to listen in gratefully.

“There’s been no movement from those two. We will continue surveillance.”

So I was being counted as a surveillance target now, too.

Well, obviously.

Telling a couple of border guards to keep quiet wouldn’t stop anything.

I’d crossed the border station on purpose, entered openly through official channels, and marched in as their enemy with my identity clearly stated.

“Do not lay a hand on either of them. When it becomes necessary to move, I will give the order. In particular, do not touch Granburst. He is not the target this time, and if we give him justification, he’ll rampage and turn everything into smoke. No—worse. He’ll happily turn it into a diplomatic incident. That would put our lord’s position in a very bad place.”

What a wonderful evaluation.

It took real self-control not to whistle.

So as long as I could make them “lay hands on me,” I’d meet my win condition.

And it sounded like the ambassador was fine with me going wild.

Thanks, boss.

Now… how should I pick a fight?

Maybe this was where that tanuki ambassador came in.

I removed the marker from the underling and reassigned it to the boss behind the counter.

These markers were convenient, but the number I could use was limited.

Wasn’t there some way to increase the cap?

Looking at the radar, the one I’d been watching most closely—already marked—started moving.

I used the map to teleport near him, then tailed him with Flight.

Thanks to the noble sacrifice of that huge slime, my stealth magic skills were so stacked that shadowing someone was effortless.

I hid myself with Invisible, hummed to myself, and flew through the sky casually while sitting cross-legged.

Then I arrived at what looked like a slum—an area lined with shabby little huts.

He entered one of the buildings.

I slipped in as well, to “pay a visit,” entering a building with exposed logs and a slightly tilted look.

Man, a world without security cameras was the best.

And the fact that I was the only one with cameras in this world was another advantage.

With magic like Silent, opening and closing doors made no sound, either.

The man from earlier spoke to someone who seemed like his superior.

“The Orston brat is holed up at the inn. What should we do?”

“That woman failed, apparently. She was a sheltered young lady to begin with. In any case, the plan to use a woman and drug him into submission is dead. All that remains is to kill the Orston brat when the opportunity arises. Ideally, he should die during the match. What, there are twenty B-rank participants tied to the Thieves’ Guild in the exam. The test is held in this country—so the matchups can be arranged however we want.”

“Understood. And if something goes wrong, that’s where we come in. Even if we don’t get called, we still get paid—nobles are generous.”

“Hey. Don’t say reckless things out loud. You never know who might be listening.”

I already listened.

And I recorded it on video, too.

A noble, huh… so their employer was probably Marquis Nielsen?

Either way, I’d gotten some useful information.

Now I should go back and talk it over with Antonio.