The world was awash in pain.
The war was simply called the Great War, a conflict on a scale never before seen, and it had left the world with bitter pain and unhealed scars. The Galgad Empire’s surrender had marked the end of the bloodshed, but even the victorious nations had lost tens of millions of their people. In a very real sense, it was a war with no true winners.
The Great War was also particular in that the majority of its casualties were civilians.
Gone was the era of bows and swords. This was the era of scientific progress, and the lethality of a single weapon put everything from olden times to shame. Submachine guns, poison gas, fighter jets, land mines… To put it frankly, it had become too easy to kill people. In the war’s final stages, when both sides had completely lost perspective, countless indiscriminate massacres had been carried out. Most of those targeted had been women and children with no means of defending themselves.
After seeing what the war had wrought, the world’s politicians came to a realization.
From a cost-benefit standpoint, war simply was not a feasible option.
And at the end of the day, it was only one of many possible measures they could take to resolve a conflict.
If they could achieve their ends through other means, then why not just do that?
There was no need to go to war over the right to drill for petroleum in a hostile nation. It was far more efficient to get that nation’s politicians to just sign a treaty allowing it, and there was no shortage of ways that could be achieved. They could kidnap their families, they could bribe them with money and asylum, or they could have women seduce them and gain control of them that way. And if a politician was getting in their way, they could fabricate scandals to remove them from office or simply assassinate them. Either would be far more efficient than starting a war that would cost millions of lives.
Even if peace was just a pretense, that was good enough.
In the wake of the Great War, the nations of the world signed various peace treaties and established an international organization dedicated to maintaining order around the globe. At that organization’s first summit, leaders from all across the world got together and shook hands while smiling radiantly.
That marked the end of wars fought in the light.
Now spies and information were the currency of conflict—of shadow wars.
The Din Republic was one of the countries that had suffered in the Great War.
It was a rural nation, one that would have been perfectly happy staying out of the fray entirely. After being left behind by the rapid advances of the industrial revolution, the Din Republic continued dutifully producing high-quality agricultural crops. It didn’t have the military to expand itself through colonial rule, and it lacked the natural resources to invite foreign aggression. But the Galgad Empire had world domination in its sights, and Din had suffered countless casualties simply by virtue of sharing a border with an imperialist power.
After the war ended, little changed with regard to the Din Republic’s pacifist national policies, but the country also began investing resources into spy education, hoping to turn the tides in the shadow war.
A decade later, there were spy training schools scattered across the nation.
Hundreds of headhunters scoured the country for promising children to send off to such institutions. From there, they whittled down the students’ ranks mercilessly. In their eyes, nothing was worse than an incompetent spy. Every training academy held four grueling exams a year, and after each, the class would shrink. The graduation exams were so harsh that students even died taking them. And yet…
“Wait, I’m graduating? And I don’t even have to take the exam? Hooraaaaay!”
…on that day, an exception was born.
The academy principal looked at the girl she’d called to her office and let out a large sigh.
“It’s a provisional graduation. Not a graduation.”
“But it means I can work as a full-fledged spy, right? Wow, and to think I was on the verge of flunking!”
“Yes, well…”
The principal examined the papers again, wondering why in the world the girl had been chosen.
Her alias was Lily, and she was seventeen years old. She did well on written tests and possessed an unusual physical idiosyncrasy, but her practical exam results were downright disastrous. She would make one huge blunder after another, then squeak in just over the passing line each time. Her homeroom teacher had been almost positive she would flunk out in her next exam.
The principal gave Lily another once-over. Perhaps she’d been picked for her looks alone. After all, she had luscious silver hair, an adorable baby face, and a voluptuous chest noticeable even beneath her clothes. Seventeen was obviously too young, but there were plenty of men who preferred girls her age. Maybe she had been chosen to lure men in and tempt them—in other words, as a honey trap.
“…Are you any good at seduction?”
“Huh? What? Whaaaaat? No way! I’m terrible with dirty stuff!”
“That’s a pretty glaring weakness for a female spy…”
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. Wait, you’re not telling me that this mission I’m going on is…”
“I’m not.”
Lily laid her hand on her chest in relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”
The principal heaved another sigh.
Did they really know what they were getting into when they picked this girl?
“I’m not telling you that because I don’t actually know the particulars.” The principal glowered at Lily. “Do you know what an Impossible Mission is?”
Lily covered her mouth with her hand. “Uh, that’s what they call a mission where somebody’s already failed at it once, right?”
“That’s right.” The principal snapped her fingers. “An Impossible Mission is one that either has already been unsuccessfully attempted by another spy or soldier or is so difficult to begin with that it’s been deemed impossible to complete.”
“’Kay…”
“Now, I’m told they’re putting together a team that specializes in these Impossible Missions.”
“Huh?” Lily’s eyes went wide.
The principal nodded in agreement. She thought it was just as unreasonable as Lily probably did.
When someone failed a mission, the difficulty of completing it on the second try went through the roof. Not only would the target be more wary, but any methods used the first time around would no longer be viable. And that wasn’t even getting into all the information the failed attempt probably leaked.
Stay far away from Impossible Missions. In their world, that was just basic common sense.
Having a team that specialized in them was completely unheard-of.
“It’s called Lamplight—and it’s the team you’ve been assigned to.”
Lily’s expression froze.
The principal lowered her voice as she continued. “I’m going to be blunt here. You definitely have potential. You’re exceptionally attractive, you have a useful ability inherent to your body, and you take your classes seriously. Your future holds promise.”
“Hee-hee, it’s been a while since anyone complimented me like that.”
“But to put it another way, that’s all you have going for you.”
“…”
“The academy’s official stance is that you’re a washout on the verge of flunking. One of your teachers, a skilled educator who has nothing against you personally, deemed you ‘unqualified to be a spy.’ Personally, I find it difficult to imagine you accomplishing any of these hyper-difficult missions. Even for top-class operatives, less than one in ten Impossible Missions end in success, and they have a mortality rate of over ninety percent.”
“Ninety percent…?”
“After hearing that, do you still want to join Lamplight?”
The principal’s fears were well-founded. After all, Lily was a gigantic klutz.
In her test one month ago, she dropped her gun right in front of her target.
In her test four months ago, she got lost in the streets and only barely finished her objective on time.
And in her test seven months ago, she took the cipher she stole and accidentally flushed it down the toilet.
Each time, she had only passed by the narrowest of margins.
The principal felt a pang of guilt. Weren’t they just sending this girl to her death?
“…You’re saying that for my sake, aren’t you?” Lily looked down. “Ha-ha; that’s what makes it hurt so much to hear. Like a great big weight crushing my heart…”
“I don’t want to see one of my students die.”
However, that decision wasn’t the principal’s to make. Lily’s assignment had come from a higher authority than the academy.
However, if Lily herself refused to go, then maybe, just maybe—
“I’ll do it. I’ll join Lamplight. And I swear I won’t run away.” The girl threw out her chest with pride. “Code name Flower Garden, ready to deploy and not afraid to die!”