A New Cash Cow Emerged.

“It seems they failed.”

“Mm. So they failed after all.”

The one who spoke quietly was a middle-aged man with green hair. He was the one newly sent as the person in charge of operations in the Polia Kingdom after the previous supervisor died during the palace infiltration.

When their secret laboratory—and even the test subject—had suddenly been taken by the Polia Kingdom, he had ordered a raid on the research institute to recover it. But as the report said, it ended in failure. For him, the situation was an utter headache.

“That thing wasn’t supposed to be exposed yet…”

The test subject was still incomplete. They had never intended to reveal it to the world yet. Not only had it been exposed against their will, it had ended up in Polia’s hands—putting them in a desperate situation. So he forced the issue by mobilizing their strength, but it still ended in failure.

‘It was impossible from the start.’

They had already lost a great deal of branch manpower during the palace infiltration. With only the forces they had slowly replenished, it was never going to be enough. Even so, they had to push it through—and ultimately, they were wiped out by the troops stationed there.

“We’ll have to postpone the release—fast.”

“Should I contact them?”

“Do it. If we move forward now, we’ll leave a trail.”

“I’ll contact them immediately.”

Watching his subordinate leave at once, the green-haired middle-aged man sank into a deep gloom. The White Ogre was a highly valuable specimen. In fact, their organization possessed only three individuals in total—it was that difficult to create.

‘If it had been completed, it would’ve been a strategic weapon… but it was discovered at this stage and captured so easily.’

That was right. The White Ogre that had been captured was an incomplete one—originally meant to be brought into the world only after its completion was improved. In truth, they had brought only a tiny sample of biological tissue into Polia and raised it there, thinking of the future.

Their plan was to reveal it inside the Polia Kingdom the moment it was complete and inflict massive damage. That was why its bones were already so strong that even an aura-infused blade couldn’t cut them. If it had been more complete? Its skin might have become so tough that even a 50mm tank cannon couldn’t pierce it.

In any case, they had lost it to bad luck, and as things stood, recovery seemed impossible. Worse, they had prepared products using its traits and planned to pull in enormous wealth—so the damage would be immense.

Polia might discover those traits and release products to the market first. Being first always lodged deep in people’s minds, and even if similar products appeared later, customers would still seek out what came first. The thought made his stomach twist in bitterness.

‘The Mitor Research Institute… one of the three institutes Polia poured its efforts into over the past several years.’

Since King Ian—a new young king—had ascended the throne, the Polia Kingdom had been growing at an exponential pace. Not only had it built countless infrastructure projects, it never stopped investing in technological development, expanding the scale year after year.

And though difficult to confirm, they had verified that Polia had received dozens of transferred technologies from the Magnia Empire—likely tied to the ancient ruins Polia had seized earlier. To enter that place required mana users, and Magnia must have made a deal after learning Polia possessed such people.

They had even secretly brought in doctorate-level personnel from the empires. With the empires too consumed by war to pay attention, a significant number had moved over to Polia.

Considering these facts, anyone could see that Polia’s future offerings would be anything but ordinary.

‘What exactly is he?’

Ian’s actions made him seem to possess secrets even deeper than their own, and it forced suspicion toward whatever backing might exist behind him. The problem was, they could find no trace of any such backing at all—an absence that was, in itself, a shock to their organization.

‘And to think Wizard Kreba would step in…’

That was truly unforeseen. It was likely why they had been able to find the secret underground lab and the test subject. Just thinking about it made his teeth grind. He wanted to send his superiors a recommendation to kill Wizard Kreba immediately.

‘But he’s protected inside a facility with extreme security.’

Polia’s largest magic-tool manufacturer, Kreision, was doing everything in its power to protect Wizard Kreba. One might scoff—what power could a mere company have?—but their strength was far from light.

Not only were they the top within Polia, they also ranked among the leaders worldwide in magic-tool manufacture. That meant they had personnel armed with all kinds of bizarre and extraordinary magic tools, and their numbers had grown to a scale that was anything but trivial.

In a way, it was safer precisely because they weren’t hiding him with a small, secret guard—they were protecting him openly with a large force. And after this incident, he would have drawn the King’s attention as well, meaning the secret police’s scrutiny around Kreba would only intensify.

‘Ha… it’s a complete dead end.’

And so the new branch chief’s sigh only deepened.

June 29, inside the Polia Royal Palace—Royal Office.

“The damaged wall is being repaired urgently, and we’ve additionally dispatched more forces to protect the institute.”

“And the pursuit of the attackers?”

“As expected… it seems impossible. The trail was completely severed midway.”

At Viscount Rubingston’s bowed report, Ian thought, I expected as much. He hadn’t asked because he truly believed it would work. If tracking them had been possible, it would have been possible long ago. Still, the institute was safe, and additional forces had been sent—so it would be safer still.

“There’s no need to lower your head. I never expected the trail to continue. That’s why strengthen internal surveillance in cooperation with the institute. Someone may try to act as a spy.”

“We’ve already intensified those measures. Especially for entry into key facilities or removal of anything—authorization from someone at the director level is mandatory, so espionage will be difficult.”

“Then that’s reassuring.”

They didn’t apply Mental Manipulation to researchers, for the sake of creativity—but for those in director-level positions, they used it to tighten institute security even further. Thinking of that, Ian felt his temper flare again at the conclusion: in the end, only he was being attacked.

‘Those rat bastards. All they can do is skulk around in the shadows—yet they keep provoking me.’

“About that White Ogre—tell them to dig deeper and investigate thoroughly.”

“They’re already doing so. Wizard Kreba has joined the investigation.”

“Is that so? Then we might see results sooner than expected.”

“Indeed. With and without a wizard, the outcome will likely differ.”

“Viscount, have you fallen for Wizard Kreba’s abilities as well?”

“To be honest, I’d love to have him in the secret police bureau, but since that’s impossible, it’s simply regrettable.”

“I’d like to have him in government service too, but I have no desire to lose one of only two wizards in the kingdom.”

Wizards were freer—and more stubborn—than one might think. The fact they didn’t even attend the coronation of the kingdom’s new master proved it: unless something genuinely piqued their curiosity, they simply didn’t move.

‘Is he still trying to find what he believes is “weather magic”?’

Ian wondered if he still hadn’t given up. But Kreision would likely “host” him soon. They might have a large stockpile of magic tools now, but as supply dwindled, they would start to panic.

‘Given time, he’ll return to his old place.’

As Ian thought that, he brought up another issue. Even during his vacation, the war on the continent had continued. And the crucial point was that the Doicheun Empire had lost tremendous strength this time and been pushed back to the far edge of the Leman Federation’s territory.

‘If they’re pushed past that point, the next step is Doicheun’s homeland. They won’t want to turn their homeland into a battlefield.’

According to gathered intelligence, in the Doicheun capital there were increasingly many skeptical voices about the war. They even said the Emperor himself showed such signs. Ian began to think the war might truly end within the year.

‘The end of the war… honestly, this won’t be the end. It’ll be the start.’

It would be an interval before the next war. Many would impose excessive reparations on Doicheun, and as that accumulated, Doicheun would eventually think of war again. History had flowed that way elsewhere, so he assumed it would here as well.

‘A peaceful path won’t work, will it?’

If they took only reasonable reparations and built a healthy relationship, perhaps they could prevent the next war. But the emotional chasm carved over these years was far too deep.

‘After a war where tens of millions killed and were killed, could anyone feel goodwill toward the other side?’

The Noma Empire, and likely even the Moria Empire, would never forgive Doicheun for trampling vast portions of their lands. They would impose heavier reparations to sap Doicheun’s strength, and add restrictions—arms development, naval dismantlement, and more.

‘No matter how I think about it, harmony is impossible.’

What mattered was what Polia—and Ian—should do within that reality. They needed to extract as much as possible. To do that, they had to collect what they were owed for the vast amounts of military supplies they had sold.

‘Noma and Moria owe us a lot. So they’ll have to spit out a large share of what they take from Doicheun and hand it to us. They’ll take the blame, and we’ll take the profits.’

He thought it wasn’t a bad arrangement.

As July passed and time moved toward August, Ian received a new report. It contained detailed findings on the White Ogre being investigated at the Mitor Research Institute in the southern mainland.

He thought the investigation had concluded faster than expected—and as anticipated, it credited Wizard Kreba’s help as a major factor. As he read the contents, what he saw was truly astonishing.

‘They can extract its regenerative ability and manufacture a drug?’

Just as they had extracted skin-care agents and a super antibiotic from goblins, the White Ogre also contained substances that could be extremely useful. The report noted that with only one individual they couldn’t extract large quantities—but given its regenerative power, they could still produce enough for meaningful sales.

‘If it can rapidly regenerate skin tissue, it’ll be worth a fortune. This will sell for a very high price.’

The biggest users would likely be special operations units and hospitals that performed surgery. The moment he realized that, he could practically smell money. They were already earning enormous profits from Ibla, the skin-care product, and Melan, the super antibiotic.

And with sales volume increasing, this meant a new cash cow had emerged. He thought they needed to verify safety through experiments and rush it to market. The key was that the secret organization hadn’t released a similar drug yet.

‘We can really make them eat it.’

Taking the market first would strike directly at their funding. That pleased him—though it also left a faint regret. If a similar drug had already surfaced, it would have been tied to the secret organization’s money flow, and they could have traced it.

‘Still. I’ll take what I can get. Heh.’

Imagining how furious they’d be when they learned this made him feel refreshed.

Just as he was reading the documents from the Mitor Research Institute in satisfaction, urgent footsteps sounded outside the office—and then he heard Viscount Rubingston’s voice calling out.

“Your Highness. This is Viscount Rubingston! I have an urgent report! May I enter?”

“Hm? Come in.”

At that, the door flew open—bang—and Viscount Rubingston strode in. Ian wondered what could be so serious. Had another institute been attacked? He asked quickly.

“What’s so urgent? Was another institute attacked?”

“No, sir. It’s more urgent than that!”

“More urgent?”

“Your Highness! The Doicheun Empire has declared surrender!”

“Is that true?!”

Ian sprang to his feet. He had expected it might end, but he never thought it would end so suddenly. As he asked again, Viscount Rubingston nodded with a rigid expression.

“Yes. Along with the Doicheun Empire’s declaration of surrender, they have announced they will end the war. Your Highness… the war is finally over.”

With his face flushed, Ian felt his fists clench. At last, the war had ended. The Great War—a conflict that had consumed five long years and demanded enormous sacrifice—was over.

Ian immediately convened a council, summoning all ministers. There was a great deal to do next.