Zick Rain left.
Noah left as well.
Only Makarov and Doranbalt remained in the office.
"Any news?"
Makarov asked Doranbalt with practiced ease, and, as expected, the latter shook his head.
"The Western Continent keeps its information under tight lockdown. Even the most elite intelligence agents in the Action Division would need at least five or six years to gather enough useful intelligence."
Makarov heard the answer and gave a slight nod, showing no disappointment. He looked at Doranbalt. "Thanks for all your effort, Mest."
"Come on, Guild Master."
"If you really think I've been working hard, let me return to the guild."
"Doranbalt"—or rather, "Mest"—looked aggrieved and immediately poured out his complaints to Makarov. "Guild Master, you have no idea. That Laharl has terrifying insight."
"I even suspect he's already figured out that I'm a Fairy Tail spy planted in the Magic Council. The pressure is getting to me."
"Lately, I've been thinking about using magic to seal my memories of the guild. Otherwise, I'm genuinely afraid my identity will be exposed one day."
Nine years ago, Makarov had sent Mest to infiltrate the Magic Council so he could use its resources to investigate certain intelligence from the Western Continent.
With the two magics "Teleportation" and "Memory" at his disposal, Mest, under the alias "Doranbalt," had needed less than five years to become deputy captain of the Action Division, outranked only by the councilors and its captain, Laharl.
Of course, to keep his identity from being exposed, Mest had made a small alteration to his memories of his guildmates, with Makarov's permission, concealing his own existence from them.
But nine years had passed, and Makarov still hadn't gotten the intelligence he needed. That wasn't Mest's fault, though. His position didn't give him the authority to send more people to