Chapter 14

Chapter 14
Outside the top-floor conference venue where the officers’ gathering was already well underway, Meursault checked his wristwatch, glanced at the handgun concealed within his jacket, and broke the silence.

“The assembly has been in session for about an hour now. Their concentration and vigilance should be starting to wane. We head inside right away.”

Before his final syllable had even faded, he tapped firmly on the meeting room door.

…Wait a minute? Why did he just make sure his firearm was accessible?

Tap, tap.

“Meursault. I have brought him.”

From beyond the wood came the familiar tones of the Commander.

“Come in.”

The instant authorization was granted, Meursault swung the portal wide without a moment of hesitation, and I walked through.

Eight pairs of sharp gazes pinned me down instantly, while system notifications materialized simultaneously across my field of vision.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Title effect ‘Luna Moon’s Friend’ is applied to the target.
Title effect ‘Luna Moon’s Friend’ is applied to the target.
Title effect ‘Luna Moon’s Friend’ is applied to the target.
Title effect ‘Luna Moon’s Friend’ is applied to the target.

That specific title perk had activated on four of Cole Arale’s officers, while another four belonged to the pro-Hayden faction, and the remaining four answered to the pro-Daphne group. Those particular officers were veterans who had shared the trenches with Luna Moon, which explained why the perk triggered for them. Meanwhile, the pro-Daphne faction members simply lacked enough positive regard toward Luna Moon for the title to take effect—though that certainly did not mean they were unfamiliar with her identity.

Meursault, who primarily managed military logistics, supply chains, and accounting, appeared programmed either as someone who had never crossed paths with Luna Moon the military physician or simply as a man indifferent to any woman other than Daphne.

“Hah…”

Just as I had anticipated, the moment they laid eyes on my visage, thoughts of Luna Moon crossed the minds of more than just the pro-Hayden loyalists. Complex emotions began playing across the weathered features of the veteran officers studying me.

“So, in the end…”

The white-bearded chief of the pro-Daphne faction broke the silence first.

“You managed to track down that military doctor’s offspring.”

Those quiet words had hardly settled before, almost on cue, representatives from both sides began chiming in.

“I figured the likeness was just a coincidence—are you telling me he is genuinely that woman’s boy?”

“‘That woman’? How dare you speak of a veteran of the subjugation campaigns in that manner!”

“Labeling a deserter a ‘hero’ seems rather generous, doesn’t it?”

“Wh-what? A deserter? A deserter? You absolute lunatic—”

“Quiet down. People who have never stepped foot on a battlefield yet idolize some female as if she were pureblood nobility wouldn’t know the difference between a hero and a deserter anyway.”

“What did you just utter? A female who never set foot on a battlefield?!”

Arguments flared up from both factions—until the most senior-looking officer among the pro-Hayden group intervened, his voice cold and low.

“Have all of you lost your minds? Raising your voices like this while His Excellency is present.”

At that reprimand, the conference room grew completely still.

Commander Hayden, positioned at the head of the long table, wore a look that suggested he found the entire spectacle thoroughly entertaining.

So this isn’t the inaugural occasion Luna Moon has been brought up during an officers’ assembly.

I deduced this because the expression on the Commander’s face carried familiarity rather than anger or dismay, and the corner of Hayden’s mouth was curved into a slight smirk, making me wonder if he had simply been waiting for them to spark the argument themselves.

“May I speak now?”

“My apologies.”

“My apologies.”

Only after the officers bowed their heads so deeply that their brows nearly brushed the tabletop did Commander Hayden proceed. He gestured for me to approach. When I took my spot beside him, a hand thick with calluses and old scars gripped my shoulder.

“Let me introduce him. This boy’s name is Heydam Goodman. My only son.”

At the utterance of Heydam Goodman, the expressions of the pro-Daphne officers tightened uncomfortably. Only their faction leader offered a simple nod, his face remaining entirely unchanged.

In the ensuing quiet, the Commander’s remaining eye roved lazily over the gathered men.

“I have successfully found the child I lost. Will no one offer felicitations?”

“Not at all. Congratulations, sir.”

“Congratulations.”

Even the pro-Daphne delegates who had been scowling moments earlier possessed enough sense not to withhold the polite gestures. I assumed the introductions might conclude without requiring any input from me—until the Commander, still smiling as he surveyed his subordinates, shifted his gaze toward me and inquired,

“Well then, Heydam. Tell us your thoughts.”

Huh? Tell them what?

“Was your mother a deserter, or a hero?”

Everyone in the room except myself froze instantly.

This absolute scoundrel…

I had wondered why he sat there with such composure while his subordinates were a hair’s breadth away from tearing each other apart over whether Luna Moon was a traitor or a savior. He had simply been waiting to settle a delicate dilemma without dirtying his own hands.

I was still a ten-year-old child. None of the officers present would genuinely hold whatever response I gave against me. Thus, Commander Hayden was achieving two goals at once—gauging my perspective on my mother while testing my tactical problem-solving skills—all while asking as casually as if he were inquiring about the midday meal.

What child, after all, could hear their mother labeled a deserter right to their face and feel nothing about it? Yet by asking for my perspective, he was granting me a platform to establish my presence in front of every single officer in attendance.

Most of them stared at me with undisguised curiosity, eager to hear my verdict. Only the specific officer who had originally uttered the word deserter was beginning to break out in a cold sweat.

Is Luna Moon a deserter, or a hero?

At its heart, the inquiry boiled down to this: Is there an issue with branding Luna Moon a deserter? Put differently, he was asking me to determine whether or not to penalize the man who had insulted my mother.

Commander Hayden possessed the authority to discipline that officer on the spot for calling her a deserter. Easily.

Yet he had refrained from doing so. Even with absolute power at his disposal, he let it slide. Judging by the atmosphere, the controversy surrounding her desertion was hardly a novelty in this room.

So there is a deliberate reason he never made an issue of it until now.

Let’s think this through. Had the Commander penalized a pro-Daphne officer over that remark, the pro-Daphne faction would have secured the ideal justification to attack my mother’s background. At the very least, gossip would have saturated the ranks: An officer got tossed into the brig merely for pointing out that Heydam Goodman’s mother was a deserter.

The accusation that Luna Moon was a deserter existed because, instead of completing a proper discharge process, she had gone into hiding to dodge scrutiny for a period—and ultimately died there. Circumstances did not completely erase the technicality of desertion. If Luna Moon’s status as a deserter turned into a legitimate problem, it would jeopardize my standing as well. What soldier would ever place trust in the offspring of a deserter?

Consequently, my mother could not be classified as a deserter. At the same time, she could not be elevated to a hero either. If I declared Luna Moon a hero, the pro-Daphne faction’s reaction was entirely predictable. They would paint me as a biased, emotional child who punished an officer during their very first meeting simply for mentioning his mother’s controversial past.

That left only one viable path.

“Whether people view my mother as a deserter or a hero… what truly matters is that I am, without a doubt, Your Excellency’s son. Isn’t that correct?”

The content smile that settled across the Commander’s lips signaled that this had been the optimal answer in his own estimation as well.

“Did you all hear that?”

He fixed his gaze directly on the officer who had previously used the word deserter, his lips twisting into a cold smile.

“Heydam chooses to overlook your rudeness. Therefore, you, in turn, will not raise any issue regarding his mother’s history.”

The officer stammered out his response, yet the Commander’s look grew frostier still.

“Is that all?”

“Pardon? Ah—I apologize for my insolence, young master Heydam. I am deeply sorry.”

Even to my untrained eyes, the apology sounded quite formal, yet the Commander’s expression remained razor-sharp.

“I asked, is that all?”

“Y-yes…? I mean…”

As the officer floundered, still failing to comprehend what the Commander expected, Meursault—positioned near the doorway—drew the firearm from inside his coat and shot him without a moment’s hesitation.

The report of the gun cracked against my eardrums, and the immediate thought that flashed through my mind was:

So that is why he checked his pistol beforehand.

I watched the officer slump forward across the conference table with a heavy thud, blood bursting from the center of his forehead as he expired instantly.

Holy crap.

What on earth was happening.

The faces of the remaining officers flooded with sheer terror. Every single one of them looked ready to demand whether Meursault had lost his sanity—but someone else spoke up first.

“Goodness, Meursault. What is the meaning of this?”

Commander Hayden inquired as though he had been anticipating this precise moment.

“Not only drawing a weapon in my presence, but executing a superior officer. Have you lost your mind?”

He reprimanded Meursault immediately, but his tone lacked any real severity, letting anyone listening know this outcome was precisely what the Commander desired. Meursault, who had just gunned down a superior, reholstered his weapon without a flicker of emotion and dropped to a single knee.

“My apologies. Young master Heydam had already displayed mercy and pardoned the disrespect, yet the man could not even manage a basic expression of gratitude to the end. I found his attitude intolerable.”

“And that makes shooting a superior officer acceptable? Confine yourself to quarters for a time.”

“I am grateful for Your Excellency’s lenient judgment.”

With those words, Meursault departed the conference hall—whether he actually headed to confinement or not remained to be seen. The absurd little performance vanished as quickly as it began, and heavy silence blanketed the room once more. Only the corpse of the fallen officer remained.

Something warm grazed my cheek. When I reached up to touch it, my fingers came away stained red. The man had been seated nearby; some of the blood spray must have—

This insane dictator NPC bastard…

As if I didn’t already have a shortage of useful NPCs, he went and eliminated one over a missing expression of gratitude.

Naturally, the thank-you was merely an excuse.

Failing to express gratitude was nothing more than a pretext. The Commander clearly wanted to put a bullet into a pro-Daphne officer who had insulted Luna Moon for quite some time. At a glance, the officer who uttered the word deserter right in front of the Commander might have seemed foolish—but given how openly the staff discussed Luna Moon in his presence, Hayden had simply chosen never to intervene when the pro-Daphne faction spoke disrespectfully of her. Just as I had refused to pin down whether she was a deserter or a hero, it was a dilemma the Commander himself had never been able to resolve easily.

Yet now, he had been forced to act. Because I—the son he shared with Luna Moon—was sitting right beside him. He had planted terror directly into his officers to solidify my authority. And the individual who actually executed the deed was Meursault, ensuring no blame could ever trace back to the Commander.

A remarkably clever maneuver, truly.

Reflecting on that, I wiped the blood from my face with my sleeve and felt watchful eyes turn toward me. It took only a second to realize the officers weren’t staring in horror at their psychopathic dictator of a Commander-father.

They were staring directly at me.