It's all one flower.

What can I do to make you stop retaliating for throwing away your life unplanned?

Ever since we spoke to intelligence agent Razornik, the spelldoctor Septentorio has been thinking.

The guards, Orioles, have not returned from their base in North Zakart City since then. "There is no room for armament enhancement," said Agoni, a funeral parlor who goes to help, telling me to sigh.

When ready, the guerrilla survival rate increases, but for that matter, the damage to the Republic of Artel will be greater. They stood at the gateway to an endless retaliatory battle that would create new hatred.

People in the army are still looking for demon asthma cannons.

After dinner, sipping vanilla tea, said the funeral parlor Agoni. Every day he takes a peek at the military while sourcing food and curse material at his base in North Zakart City.

Before sundown, take your prey, nuts, medicinal herbs, etc. [jump] to a medical base on Lanterna Island, and in the morning, again, jump to an abandoned base.

Septentorio, a spelldoctor, can't leave here.

Silva, the old lady who helps, has been away from the medical base for some time now because of the ill health of the old folks in the private house who are the hub for gathering information.

Once, I offered to treat him when he came back, but he refused.

"You may not understand, but it's the year."

I laughed drenchingly and shook my neck sideways, [jumping] by myself.

Septentorio wanted to get to the treatment and know where the other bases were, but I couldn't guess.

The old lady, Silva, has recently invested in gathering information. Even as a pretext for staying in a nursing home for a long time, it would be difficult for the old man to get better.

Intelligence agent Razornik has come to show his face here, even after his recovery.

"This, tablet terminal. He's the one who bought it in the dark, and he puts in all sorts of illegal tools, so he can break Artel's government access restrictions and browse foreign sites even from inside Artel territory."

Even so, the spelldoctor Septentorio has no idea what he's doing.

Razornik stroked the surface of a thin plate with his fingers, not even knowing what the material was. The black plate is colored and the pattern appears.

Agoni, who was peeking with me, turned his face upside down in surprise.

"What is it, then?

"This? Wireless communication equipment used in civilized nations. Um... Most countries are free to communicate, but Artel imposes communication restrictions to prevent the influx or spillage of information that is inconvenient to them. Of course, there's a hole."

"Can't you do that?"

Funeral home Agoni stares down the board with admiration. Surprisingly, Septentorio didn't say a word.

Razornik scratches his blonde head and chews it up for both of us to understand, explains the internet and operates the terminal.

"This hub, in the woods away from the city, I can't connect because I'm out of range, but I download data and apps...... erm, if I say copy, you know what I mean?

"Hmm? Yeah, the copier would have used it. The same piece of paper you wrote, the guy who prints a bunch of them, right?

"You're putting that on electronics... just information without objects, right?

"Boulders, they both swallow fast and help. So, this, the starlight newspaper app I downloaded this morning"

As Razornik's fingers stroked the smooth screen, a side of the newspaper appeared. Agoni raises an exclamation.

"You're so broken, you're in the whole newspaper!

The top article on one side of the Starlight newspaper for Kirkurs reported fighting the Nemoralis army.

The Artel Army does not appear to have been cited as having had significant results after sinking a defensive ship equipped with a demonic asthma cannon with a missile.

Occasionally, only a few fighters have broken through the air defense network, reaching the city of Gardenia, north of the frontline city of North Zakart. It does not lead to large-scale air raids shortly after the war, but appears to be often intercepted before an attack on an urban area with a demon-mounted soldier's air defense network reinforced by [Tears of the Mage] and others.

Beautifully reporting that not a single aircraft would return, he had written down only a few battle results in needle bars.

"Even though there's no one left alive, you're just lying. Artel's people are being deceived in articles like this?

"I guess there's a camera on the fighter, sending data to the base, one at a time"

To Agoni, who pities the extent of the head of the Artelians, Razornik said by showing another page.

It contains aerial photographs of the smoking city. The number lined up in the corner of the color photo would be the date and time of the shooting. Looks like it was yesterday's fight.

"What? But far from the radio base, you can't connect, can you?

"Fighters use military satellite lines. This device is a civilian line in the city."

Cheng Cheng, and the two people of the lake nodded, the youth of the land people made another page appear.

There, controls have reportedly been successful and terrorist activity has been significantly reduced.

They wrinkled between their brows and sighed at the same time. The militant guerrilla activity has not diminished. He's grinding his nails and brushing his teeth to prepare for the next massive attack.

"The common people must be relieved and alarmed."

"Well, it's getting insecure, so I think the doors are tight."

Septentorio's concerns seem to be entirely other personnel to intelligence agent Razornik. He stroked his terminal and closed the newspaper, causing it to display a completely different screen.

"What is it, this guy?

"Songs we've been talking about all over the country lately. It's not just a dark story. It's disgusting, isn't it?

A prelude was struck by Razornik's voice, and the two people of the lake looked at each other.

... Weather forecast?

There's a light coming from the other side over you...

From the tablet terminal, the mixed choir singing played. Men's and women's voices and children's singing are also mixed to tell the story of the choir's wide range of age groups. V. Not a voice of six, but it doesn't seem to be dozens of people in size. Septentorio cleared his ears to each and every voice. Twenty or no, I said.

At the end of the song, Razornik said as he stroked his terminal further.

"He sounds unprofessional because he sucks, but he sings a commercial song from a bakery"

"Heh... there's no amateur..."

Funeral home Agoni shakes her head every time she says she doesn't know what to say or what to say.

Neither did the spelldoctor Septentorio know that BGM on the Nemoralis National Broadcasting weather forecast had lyrics like this. I was also surprised and wondered that the amateur song was so widely known as to rise to the topic across countries.

"And there's another thing we're talking about, this."

Intelligence agent Razornik also stroked the terminal.