Spy Classroom - Volume 1 - Chapter Pr

Prologue

Special Assignment

Guido stood in front of a room. He was the direct supervisor of the man inside, and both were members of the spy team Inferno working for the Din Republic.

Every member of Inferno was an oddball in some way or another, but that one marched to the beat of an especially unique drum. Guido, who possessed at least a semblance of common sense, had been tasked with getting in touch with him.

I guess you reap what you sow. Guido sighed.

He was the one who first took the man in. He had taken care of the young orphan and then raised him into an elite spy. However, he had never imagined that the boy would grow up to be such a handful.

His subordinate had been holed up in his room since morning. He hadn’t come out for breakfast, for lunch, or to even use the bathroom.

What the hell is he up to in there? Guido wondered in exasperation. He began knocking. After five seconds passed with no answer, he stopped knocking and just opened the door.

The state of the quarters filled him with horror.

The bedroom had been decorated with elegant white wallpaper and a beautiful red carpet—but now everything was drowned in crimson.

A liquid resembling fresh blood had been splattered across the room and covered everything from the bed to the clothing shelves. It was like a murder scene. Even Guido, who was no stranger to death, almost screamed. A room in this beautiful manor, Heat Haze Palace, had been reduced to a ghastly spectacle.

And in the center of it all stood a giant canvas with a man lingering before it. He was gazing at the painting, spellbound. “Magnificent.”

He swung his brush like a cudgel, sending paint flying across the canvas, the carpet, and eventually, Guido’s face. That was when the artist noticed Guido’s presence and turned around.

“Hmm? …Master, what are you doing in here?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I was struck by a sudden urge to draw. And I’m running out of paint, so could you get me some more?”

“…What, you’re gonna use your mentor as your errand boy?” Guido shot back. “Cut the shitty jokes; I’m here about something serious.”

Although, given who he was talking to, there was a good chance that it hadn’t been a joke at all.

“You’ve got a special assignment. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to split off from the rest of the team and carry out a solo mission.”

“Special how…?”

Guido began laying out the mission. As his explanation progressed, his subordinate’s expression began to change. The mission was harsh enough that just hearing its particulars would have been enough to send any ordinary spy into a blustering rage. Even Guido, skilled as he was, would have rejected it on the spot. These might as well have been orders to go out and die a meaningless death.

“Odds of success will be sub–ten percent, even for you. Failure will mean death. Can you do it?”

The man gave his answer without hesitating. “If that’s the order, then I’ll see it done.”

Guido had fully expected a no; he stared in blank amazement.

The artist swept his brush across the canvas once more, smearing it red. “That should do it for today,” he murmured, then nodded and looked Guido in the eye.

“Master, in case I don’t make it, I want to leave you my last testament. Everything I am today is thanks to you. You took me in as an orphan and raised me to be a spy. I’ll be forever grateful to the boss for hiring me, and it’s no exaggeration to say I love each and every member of Inferno. I might not know my parents, but I think of you all as my family. And those family members all have friends, lovers, and relatives. And because those are the people who make up this nation, then I love this nation as well.”

“You’re not thinkin’ of just making a break for it?”

“Not even a little.”

Guido took a deep breath. Things would have been so much easier if the guy had simply refused. “What an idiot of a pupil I’ve raised. Look, when you finish your mission, I have a title for you to introduce yourself as.”

“What kind of spy goes around introducing himself?”

It was an oddly reasonable question coming from him, but Guido chose to ignore it.

“The Greatest Spy in the World.”

The moniker was downright childish—but the spy in question seemed to take quite a liking to it.

“Magnificent.”

Deciding to set out at once, the man cleaned up his painting utensils, changed into a new suit, and loaded it up with weapons. His wristwatch had wire inside for strangling people, his fountain pen had a built-in voice recorder, his collar had a razor blade hidden in it, and his sleeves were full of long needles.

After his subordinate finished prepping (in under five minutes), Guido gave him some parting words.

“Good luck out there.”

The man’s eyes widened, as if he were perplexed by the unusual pep talk.

After a brief pause, an embarrassed smile spread across his face.

“…See you when I get back.”