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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Zaped
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‘Did the Commander ever have that kind of expression before?’
It was a plain, transparent glass bottle with an old, unremarkable label.
Yet, Virginia caressed it gently with a faint smile on her face.
“Commander, do you know about that drink?”
“Oh, this wine? It’s called ‘Disgrace.'”
But that was as far as she got.
When Virginia made eye contact with Leticia, she hesitated and soon hardened her expression.
It was the kind of expression Leticia, having participated in countless interrogations of key suspects, was all too familiar with—one of someone regretting saying too much.
Virginia said no more.
She wrapped the wine in a towel, placed it back in her bag, and handed it over.
“Take tomorrow off as well. There’s much to be done. Wait a moment.”
Virginia gestured for Leticia to come closer.
When Leticia approached, she whispered softly, close enough that their breaths touched.
“The 14th National Gendarmerie’s communication equipment and encryption system have all been compromised. It’s certain that the Central Liberation Brigade has taken them.
Worse, the Gendarmerie’s communications officers and soldiers tried every connection possible, exposing the entire network.”
Leticia’s face turned pale.
This was a bolt from the blue. The word “discharge” began circling in her mind.
The military is an organization that fundamentally operates by orders.
Smooth communication between higher and lower echelons is essential, and leaks are unacceptable.
With the encryption system entirely compromised, it means the entire military framework must be overhauled.
Moreover, the operations, communications, and intelligence divisions would have to master the new system from scratch.
It was akin to returning to freshman year after already graduating, only to redo the core courses all over again—a cumbersome and exhausting ordeal awaited.
“Rest well tomorrow without thinking about anything.”
Leaving her with what wasn’t quite encouragement, Virginia departed.
Leticia slung her bag over her shoulder and began walking.
Subordinates from the Intelligence Division greeted her warmly and escorted her to a waiting vehicle.
“I’ve heard the story. As expected of you, Lieutenant.”
“…Just drive. I’m exhausted. I’m off duty tomorrow, so adjust the schedule accordingly.”
“It’s already done.”
The military vehicle sped through the streets of Hampton.
Soldiers guarding the safe zone opened the gates without a word.
“Sigh.”
Upon arriving home, Leticia collapsed straight onto her bed.
She had a mountain of tasks to handle, but she decided to do what she wanted most first.
She pulled out her personal phone and opened the “Scale Plus” app.
The chat window with Caesar was still open.
After typing and deleting repeatedly, she finally settled on a simple message.
Did you get home safely? I’m really, really worried. Please send me at least a line to let me know you’re okay.
It felt too formal, so she added another line.
I had so much fun today. When and where shall we meet next? I’m good for next week too! Don’t forget the apple pie!
Despite waiting for a full two minutes, the message remained unread.
Anxiety started to eat away at her, so she decided to wait.
If there was still no response after she showered, she’d call him.
She was tired, drowsy, her head ached, and she was utterly drained.
Yet, thinking about what had happened today made her happy.
The wine in her bag was proof of that.
“Maybe just one glass?”
Though tempted, Leticia held herself back.
Such a fine wine deserved to be enjoyed in perfect condition.
“‘Disgrace,’ huh?”
Rising from her bed, Leticia turned on her computer to search for information about the “Disgrace” wine.
Although there wasn’t an abundance of data, it was clear that it was a rare, high-end wine with a premium price tag.
“Disgrace” wine had been produced about ten years ago by a famous domaine (winery) in Minsk.
However, the reason for its name was tied to its disreputable origin.
The wine was secretly crafted during the period when Minsk declared war on Römer over Elsa’s ownership rights.
Back then, Minsk was confident of victory and had begun producing commemorative items in advance, including this wine.
The problem was that the war ended in just ten days with Römer’s victory.
Reluctant to discard the already crafted wine, the winery disguised it as a cheap product with no notable name or label and sold the entire batch.
However, the distinctive bottle design and band unique to the winery gave it away, making it recognizable to seasoned wine enthusiasts.
“…It’s widely produced, yet known for its excellent taste and even more for the story behind it. But how did the Commander recognize it instantly? Does she like wine?”
No, that wasn’t all.
For a brief moment, Leticia saw a glimpse of humanity in Virginia.
If she weren’t in uniform, weren’t in a disaster or wartime situation, she’d just be a typical mid-20s woman smiling at a café with a drink in hand.
When talking about the wine, the Commander seemed to be reminiscing about something.
Nostalgia, perhaps? Or maybe, a sense of loss.
“Ugh, I don’t know. I need a shower.”
Before undressing, Leticia checked her phone once more. Still unread.
She resolved to call him after her shower if there was still no response.
However, after stepping out of the shower, she collapsed onto her bed and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming blissfully of choosing names for her future children.
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Caesar hummed a cheerful tune as he strolled back to the hotel, carrying two solar panels under one arm, a power bank in his hand, and a bag slung over his shoulder.
His phone was stuffed into the car, which he had parked somewhere nearby.
Although soldiers were stationed along the streets, they were too preoccupied to stop him.
The hotel, visibly worse for wear, seemed to have avoided complete destruction.
Cleaning crews borrowed fire trucks to spray the streets with soapy water.
All the bodies had already been cleared away.
In the lobby, Fernando appeared and helped carry his luggage to the room door.
I’m at the door.
After sending the text, he heard a loud crash shortly after.
The door burst open, and a sweat-soaked Camila greeted him with a wide grin.
“You’re back.”
He smiled as he displayed the items he brought.
“I’m back.”
Instead of checking the items, Camila hugged him first.
The lingering scent of gunpowder wafted from her.
“Nothing happened?”
“Nothing at all. You?”
Camila answered so nonchalantly that Caesar replied in kind.
“Nothing happened.”
They began moving the luggage inside.
The state of the room was impressive.
The window frames were stuffed with mattress pads, and the living room was filled with an assortment of firearms and ammunition, many of which bore signs of heavy use.
But he didn’t ask for details.
They were simply happy to be alive and together again.
“Tough day? Come here.”
Camila reached to help him undress.
Caesar awkwardly stepped back.
“Uh, haha. I’m pretty sweaty today, so…”
“Even better, isn’t it?”
Before he could protest, Camila’s hands eagerly tugged at his coat.
Then her face stiffened suddenly.
“Hey, Caesar.”
“Y-Yeah?”
Camila pulled a strand of long, blonde hair from his coat—Leticia’s.
Wait, when did that get there?
“You know, it’s bad luck to carry things like this around,” she said, her tone sharp. “Oh, wait. There’s another one on your back? These things need to be burned immediately.”
Before he could say anything, she grabbed a lighter and incinerated the hair, scattering the ashes. She still smiled, but her aura felt… ominous.
“Next time, carry mine instead. I can give you as many as you want. By the way, did everything go well today?”
Her question was interrupted by the buzzing of Caesar’s phone on the floor, displaying a pop-up message:
Did you get home safely? I’m really, really worried. Please send me at least a line…
Camila’s smile turned sharp.
“…Oh, you did really well today. Fantastic. I ought to give you a round of applause.”
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