Miss Assassin is heavily addicted

Chapter 34, Section 13: The Worrying Turmoil

—Greece Downtown, Department of Homeland Security—

Let's rewind to a few days ago.

Inside the tranquil office of the National Security Bureau's Investigation Division on a sun-drenched street, several officers sat chatting and drinking tea. Their conversation ranged from the recently plummeted value of the Kobold banknotes to trendy women's clothing, sounding utterly relaxed.

Sergeant Draco, nearing forty, was also sitting here—the sinister man with algae-green eyes and a hooked nose—he was leaning back in his chair, wearing a winter police uniform, lazily reading the Cultural Trends newspaper, which was promoting the latest trend of private cars.

"The Ford Model T sold over 5 units in the country this year, building its brand with the slogan of being affordable and cost-effective. Middle-class families are buying the car for outings, and professionals such as doctors and lawyers say it's a new way to socialize with dignity."

As a sergeant in the Investigation Division of the National Security Bureau in Greeley, Draco's annual salary is 55,000 crowns. With his annual off-the-books income, it wouldn't be difficult for him to buy a private car worth 120,000 crowns with his savings.

However, considering that a certain colleague had not yet made a move against him, Draco was unsure how much longer he could stay in this office, so he decided to save the money first.

"Speaking of which, it's been two or three days since Commander Loris last came by, hasn't it?"

"It's said that he caught a cold while on a mission."

Somehow, the surrounding police officers started talking about the light blonde young woman. Thanks to her absence, the intelligence investigation department had returned to its usual routine these past few days, and they were incredibly free.

The officers from Lori's team were the most grateful.

For example, Constable David, a regular officer who had worked with Lorris on a mission a few days earlier.

Upon hearing his colleagues talk about the lovable sergeant who resembled a little lion, he couldn't help but approach and sigh repeatedly, stroking his bald head as he described the scene from that night:
"You know, it's all thanks to that bartender. He accidentally splashed some cold water on Commander Loris, which gave her a cold and made her rest. We also got some time off. Otherwise, if we had continued to deal with her like this, we might have been killed before those spies."

"Hahahahaha."

The office was filled with a pleasant atmosphere.

And then, very unfortunately—

The office door opened at that moment, and their laughter stopped abruptly, as Lolis, who was recovering from a serious illness and wearing a blue plaid scarf, walked in.

She looked a little depressed, carrying a paper bag in her right hand.

"Ah ha ha ha ha..."

Undoubtedly, the stiff laughter in the office grew softer and softer until it finally disappeared, while David, who had been laughing the loudest, now looked like a bitter gourd, ready to burst into tears.

Waaaaaah, how come she knows how to choose the right moment to open the door?
As she entered, the officers in the office tacitly went about their tasks a few seconds later.

Sergeant Draco stood to the side, hiding his face with a newspaper and gloating.
Several police officers looked down and stroked the teacup, thinking, "This teacup really is a teacup!"

With nowhere to hide, David finally chose to stand at attention, straighten his back, and face his fear head-on, and salute.

"Good morning, sir!"

The words fell.

Loris walked up to him just then. The girl pulled her scarf up and lowered her eyes as if she hadn't heard their conversation. She simply approached and asked.

"Has anything happened while I was away?"

Her voice sounded a little soft and sweet, as if she had returned to the National Security Bureau to continue working before she had fully recovered from her cold. She then took out the contents of the paper bag, which contained an expensive pocket watch, a fountain pen, and desserts.

No one questioned why she was carrying these things—Officer David was particularly on edge.

"Well, everything is normal. The only thing worth reporting is that we apprehended a suspicious person last night. He seems to be an informant for some enemy country, but we haven't been able to extract any information from him yet."

David stood nervously before her, reporting on the results of his work over the past few days, and this was the only good news.

As for the bad news—David didn't tell her that the intelligence he had gathered on the spies had all been lost. They had vanished without a trace, as if they had evaporated from the city of Greenley, and the newspaper had changed owners. He shouldn't have bothered those astute spies.

It's impossible to catch them now. Of course, David wouldn't dare report it like that; he only gave the good news.

"Eyeliner?" Loris frowned. "Where is he now?"

"He's been sitting in the interrogation room. Officer Rory, who came to the police station a while ago, already questioned him..."

David thought for a moment and then said carefully, "In some ways, Rory Albert is quite dedicated, after all, he didn't participate in yesterday's arrest operation."

“Take me there,” Loris said.

"Yes!" David thought to himself that he had escaped a disaster.

After the two left the office, the oppressive atmosphere that had caused boos disappeared, and the officers on duty smiled knowingly again and continued chatting about recent interesting events.

Sergeant Draco put down the newspaper that was covering his face and looked at the desks not far away, which were the office area for the officers of the Fourth Investigation Division.

On the table were a pen, a pipe, and a pocket watch. This was her fourth time offering a sweet treat in her fourth week on the job, seemingly as a reward for the hard work of her fellow officers, who were indeed working much harder than others.

The gift was sent quietly, without any in-person greeting. Perhaps it was due to shyness or some other emotion.

In Draco's view, this would not make subordinates work harder; on the contrary, they would feel it was a sense of superiority of the aristocracy—working hard gives you extra pay, so don't complain—the real way to build relationships would be to have a drink together after get off work.

Sergeant Draco shook the newspaper and continued reading.

……

—National Security Bureau. Interrogation Room—

The bright corridor was narrow and long, and the only sound was the echo of their footsteps. Loris followed behind Officer David until they arrived at an iron gate.

“This is it.” David stood by the door.

Loris walked to the door but did not push it open and go in. Through the door and window, she could see two people sitting face to face in the interrogation room, with an iron table in between.

Officer Rory Albert twirled a pen in his hand, a notebook in front of him for recording statements. He looked grim, his patience wearing thin.

Across from him sat a disheveled man with stubble, who looked to be in his thirties, with bloodshot eyes and a somewhat颓废 (颓废 is a difficult word to translate directly, but it implies a sense of listlessness, apathy, or dejection) demeanor.

“I’ve already told you I won’t confess easily,” the man grinned. “Unless you use your feminine wiles to torture me.”

Rory tapped the statement book with his pen, then sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"This is the National Security Bureau. My patience is running out. I'll ask you one last time..."

"ga~ (sound of door opening)"

Loris pushed the iron gate with her hand, making a sound that interrupted their conversation.

Only then did the two realize that someone had arrived.

"Uh... is your cold better?"

Rory Albert was quite surprised to see his sergeant there, and he quickly stood up and saluted.

She had been battling a cold since completing a mission at the Big Bird Bar two days ago, but she was surprised to be back on duty after only a short rest.

David, who was standing nearby, looked at her strangely when he heard this, because he remembered that he hadn't even comforted Sergeant Lorris at all—at that time, fear had outweighed his curiosity about her return.

Loris took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slightly.

Angry.

She recalled how that damned bartender had splashed her with cold water, which made her already cold condition even worse. She didn't get back to her lodgings to change and shower until 2 a.m., as she was on a mission at the time.

Unsurprisingly, she fell ill for two days.

As her thoughts drifted back to this point, Loris couldn't help but clench her teeth, a blush creeping onto her delicate and pretty face (in annoyance).

"I'm ready."

Uh, it doesn't sound good at all.

Rory could only manage a dry laugh, while subtly giving David a meaningful look, hoping he would understand his intention.

David and he looked at each other.

David shrugged a few seconds later.

David chose to leave this place of trouble.

"Then, Commander Loris, I'll be leaving now." "Hmm," Loris replied coldly.

"Thump (the iron gate closes)"

Only three people remained in the interrogation room: two police officers and a man suspected of being a spy. The air was so damp it felt suffocating.

Rory stood to the side, quietly clearing the space that was originally for the interrogation, and then changed the subject by introducing the current situation—he didn't want to continue the conversation because of his cold.

"The man in front of me is Kenneth Young. He works at the Ethan Steelworks. The steel and metal materials produced by that company were once on the military's procurement list. They cooperated with the military, but in recent years they have gradually shifted to civilian use."

"Two days ago, a citizen reported to the police that someone had broken into the archives at night, so we went to handle the matter yesterday and arrested him,"

Rory explained the whole story clearly, and then gave the information he had obtained from interrogating him so far.

"He said he stole the company's files only to sell them to another smelting plant because they wanted a certain high-strength metal composite material, but unfortunately their plant couldn't smelt it."

“He wouldn’t tell us the company name when we asked, saying it was a confidentiality agreement, so we’re now inclined to suspect he’s an informant for a spy… What do you think, Officer Loris?”

After Rory finished speaking, he asked somewhat subtly, waiting for what was to come.

Loris pondered for a moment, then walked up to him, coldly observing the decadent man. Silver handcuffs bound his hands to the back of the chair, while he licked his lips with a flippant expression.

“I’ve said all I can say. If you want to know more from me, no amount of torture will work—unless you use a honey trap.”

The man and Loris stared at each other, feigning seriousness.

"Have you used any methods?" Loris asked.

Rory paused for a moment before saying, "No, after all, this could be a security incident or an espionage incident, and the final outcome is still open to discussion."

Lorice understood his concerns, but she was losing patience and stepped forward with a stern face.

Immediately afterwards, Loris kicked the dejected man in the chest with her leather boot! Whether it was out of anger or for the sake of her job, the kick was quite powerful!
The man's eyes widened, the chair tipped backward, and then crashed heavily to the ground, inevitably letting out a soft groan.

Oh ~
"I'll confess, I'll confess!"

Loris was about to kick a second time: "...?"

A few seconds later, Luo walked forward expressionlessly, looked at the dejected man who was humming softly, and helped him up with a complicated expression. She then turned her head to look at her superior's face, clearly unaware of what had happened.

No, if she realized it, she might get very angry and punch him a few more times, but for this man, it would be a reward.

"Now we'll ask you a question and you answer it. Don't say it's okay. Be honest. It's better for both of us."

After Rory helped him up, he stood by the table with a pen and notebook for taking statements, acting as a recorder.

Loris was a little puzzled, but she didn't pay it any more attention, since her goal was for the other party to be willing to confess.

She sat opposite the dejected man, taking a moment to process what she had just learned.

What was your purpose in stealing the documents?

The dejected man smacked his lips and said wistfully:
"Two months ago, a man gave me a lot of money and said that all I needed to do was produce a few pieces of paper from the company. At first, they were just some innocuous work rules, but they gradually became more confidential, and now they are what you see here, this kind of confidential metal material."

“He would give me 50,000 crowns for each job I did. I’ve already amassed nearly 400,000 crowns in wealth. I couldn’t help but get trapped in it without even realizing it. You know, nobody can say no to money.”

After saying this, the nearly thirty-year-old dejected man was full of regret, but mostly regret that he had been caught.

Rory whispered as he took notes: "It's now confirmed that it's related to spies."

Loris continued her questioning without expression:

Do you know what that man looks like?

"Uh, I'm not sure. He always wore a hat when we handed over the work, and he never spoke; he just passed me notes..."

Seeing this, Rory paused for a moment and then put down his pen:
"I suggest you think it through carefully. Don't worry about being retaliated against, because it will be hard for you to get over this in a short time. Besides, answering honestly will really benefit you."

"..." The dejected man frowned after listening, and after a long while, he stammered, "I think, once I saw his face clearly, he didn't look like a local. He had green hair and yellow skin, and looked a bit like a southerner. He was the kind of laborer who has been appearing at the docks in recent years."

“Peruvians,” Rory whispered beside him. “People from Country C. Only Peruvians fit this description. Many of them fled here during the wars of previous years.”

After listening to the analysis, Loris remained silent, feeling somewhat invisible. She simply nodded; in any case, having a capable subordinate made her feel much more at ease.

After that, they questioned him a few more times—

The dejected man could no longer divulge any more information. He had already revealed everything he knew, and the spy he had met with was confirmed to be from Country C; nothing else was known.

Regardless, at least there have been new discoveries, indicating that the recent turmoil has led to unrest in various regions.

After the interrogation ended, the two left.

Someone took this dejected man away for trial; his repentance was no longer of any use.

Lorris walked down the narrow corridor leading away from the interrogation room. As if remembering something, she asked Officer Rory behind her:
"Speaking of which, have there been any new developments in that newspaper these past few days?"

As soon as Loris finished speaking, Officer Rory felt a chill run down his spine, wondering why she had brought this up.

Although he knew the bad news couldn't be kept secret for long, he still didn't bring it up right away—no wonder David didn't dare linger in the interrogation room; he would have run away as soon as he was in David's shoes.

After a long pause, Rory Albert forced a smile.
"Sir, what would you like to eat for lunch?"

Loris: "...?"

……

—Narcissus Street, Seagull Bookstore—

People were coming and going on the street, and some were walking into the bookstore.

The dazzling array of books is a treasure of culture. The shop assistant is introducing famous books by famous people. This is the Seagull Bookstore, which recently opened on Narcissus Street. The owner is a greasy middle-aged man who is wearing a vest and sitting on a recliner, sunbathing.

He didn't look like Mark—although he was indeed Mark Coslin—but the perfect wig made him look like a different person; the golden waves fit his head perfectly, adding a touch of the ocean's grandeur to his greasy appearance.

Even if a police officer stood in front of him now, he wouldn't recognize him. As spies who had been lurking in Country A for many years, their specialty was changing their appearance.

“Mr. Raymond!” the shop assistant stepped forward. “A customer asked why we don’t have any of Dolan’s works; they’re slandering this shop!”

"Let them slander us then," Mark waved his hand dismissively.

"..." The shop assistant retreated dejectedly. "Alright then."

The early April sun was so warm that Mark felt incredibly comfortable. To be honest, the geographical environment of Greeley City was really good, with mild winters and cool summers, and the sea nearby. He was even considering settling down there.

As he was lying on the chair, aimlessly taking a walk, a handsome white-haired man in a trench coat walked past him, casually placed a newspaper on the table, and then went into the store to pick out books.

Mark watched his retreating figure and keenly sensed it.

He's someone from the organization.

The white-haired man in the trench coat was an old acquaintance of Mark's, but it seemed he wasn't there to catch up but rather to convey some kind of message.

So this greasy middle-aged man calmly picked up the newspaper on the table. It contained very normal news, as if he were reading the morning paper.

But only those in the CORE can understand it.

After reading it a moment later, Mark's fingers trembled slightly, as the information inside shocked him.

The white-haired man who delivered the message had already left with a book, his hat brim pulled low and he didn't exchange any words, seemingly just there to buy books.

But he dropped a bombshell!

It was as shocking as a raging storm!
If He Ye were here to see the news in the newspaper, he would surely express his deepest emotions in the most straightforward language! It was the payment of wages nine months late! It was the belated announcement of the end of the domestic partisan struggle!

CORE has won the revival round—the newly appointed director has reactivated spies operating across the globe.

Clearly, there is a secret behind this.

After the initial shock, Mark felt immense regret, unsure if it was still too late to speak to the organization.

If I told them now that He Ye wasn't dead, would they believe me?
Or... how about we say he was resurrected by the priest?
(End of this chapter)