Chapter 21

Chapter 21
Following the barbecue gathering, I initiated Taejeong into fundamental practice routines. Unlike Shut-in Honey, who was already drilling basics alongside the military, Taejeong served as a mansion attendant and likely lacked the freedom to practice independently, so I brought him along with me.

“How on earth are you this skilled?”

Taejeong’s shooting accuracy was terrible. His physical coordination, however, was exceptional. Although he remained young, his foundation wasn’t merely stable—it bordered on professional athletic capability. Hearing my remark, Taejeong offered a slightly bashful grin.

“I used to train a bit…”

A bit? That clearly exceeded a little.

“You are far more astonishing than I am, hyung. Did you exercise prior to the possession?”

“Not at all. I was a complete NEET.”

The polished nature of my fundamentals stemmed from the Titles I inherited as rewards for conquering past zones. Naturally, a title did not directly elevate my bodily capabilities. While titles could enhance non-player character favorability or boost proficiency, developing raw physical strength still demanded genuine workouts. Even the Magic Marksman title utilized while eliminating intermediate monsters failed to enhance my physique. It constituted an achievement unlocked by landing ten consecutive single-shot strikes onto a monster’s internal gemstone. Equipped with Magic Marksman, the initial six rounds would never miss—yet the seventh was bound to strike the individual most cherished by the player. Essentially, a curse. In short, it bypassed physical attributes entirely, instead manipulating a player’s fortune.

Within the game environment, however, “the individual most cherished by the player” simply referred to whatever non-player character whose favorability you had maximized most aggressively, rendering the negative drawback largely irrelevant. I would purposefully cultivate favorability with whichever non-player character proved unnecessary at the time and sacrifice them to the Magic Marksman. Numerous forum comments labeled it a strategy capable of moving the devil to tears, but the individuals authoring those remarks would have executed the exact same maneuver.

Yet this environment was no longer a video game. If the mechanics functioned precisely as they did previously—designating the non-player character holding the highest favorability toward me as the casualty—then Commander Hayden stood out as the prime candidate for that seventh projectile right now. Should other participants count, however, the situation shifted. Shut-in Honey was one matter, but Taejeong already harbored a deep fondness for me. The inverse remained possible too: the target might not be someone whose favorability I cultivated, but rather someone I genuinely cherished. Under those circumstances, either Commander Hayden or Meursault would perish.

Apologies, Taejeong, but at present those two held greater necessity for me than any alternative players. I deployed Magic Marksman despite the hazard because demonstrating my shooting technique to Meursault was essential. Three discharges at the paper target, one into the hippo-pig… leaving two remaining?

Realistically, my baseline marksmanship was not poor enough to necessitate the title. After all, earning Magic Marksman required scoring ten consecutive hits on a fingertip-sized gemstone embedded inside a creature’s anatomy. Against a stationary target sheet, only the initial shot received title assistance. The remainder reflected pure technique. I expended two additional rounds upon instructions to test moving targets. The safest path involved advancing my shooting precision and physical conditioning through dedicated practice until relying on Magic Marksman became obsolete…

Yet curiosity lingered regarding the identity of the person the seventh bullet would strike. Recognizing that intentional elimination could not serve as a valid test—since striking someone did not guarantee expiration—suppressed the impulse to experiment. Perhaps crafting Magic Marksman for Taejeong would reveal whether the seventh projectile targeted me. Even if it genuinely flew toward me, recognizing how to evade a fatal injury offered reassurance. Regardless, that concern could wait.

The crucial takeaway was that titles alone could not compensate for physical capacity, particularly endurance. Auxiliary designations such as the SSS-rank Trainee could accelerate physical development with minimal exertion, yet neglecting the fundamentals remained out of the question.

“You were a complete NEET yet you move like that… Hyung truly is capable of anything.”

Somehow Taejeong’s admiration toward me seemed to intensify further. We concluded our morning session thereafter.

During the afternoon, I conducted several trials, consuming various provisions to expand the regenerative capabilities available to players. The outcome demonstrated that meat performed superiorly compared to cookies, while dehydrated provisions like canned items or jerky far surpassed ordinary meat. Was it necessary to manufacture items resembling the wall-grain tablets found in martial arts literature? The heightened efficacy of denser nourishment represented positive news. Possessing an inventory meant I could transport vast quantities of provisions, provided the inventory permitted it, and items placed inside appeared immune to spoilage.

However, Taejeong and Shut-in Honey remained unable to access a status interface, indicating a strict restriction regarding their carrying capacity. The threat of their rations decaying posed an additional challenge… I had yet to verify whether spoiled nourishment could still activate the healing effect. The mere concept churned my stomach, so I intended to test it on Shut-in Honey during the upcoming scheduled meal. If even decayed sustenance qualified as healing… Just how broadly did the system classify an item as “nourishment”?

Attempting auto-suggestion—persuading myself that a stone constituted sustenance—I brought it toward my mouth, but it failed to dissolve into blue particles the way genuine food did. This implied the system maintained a distinct, unambiguous definition of nourishment… I would investigate that matter subsequently. The top priority involved securing portable field rations.

This realm featured military combat rations as well. However, they were distributed exclusively to soldiers, and since my formal enlistment remained pending, I had never witnessed this world’s field rations firsthand. Mansion attendants functioned as domestic staff rather than troops, and Cola Area combat rations fell under the administration of a separate department—making acquisition through the personnel difficult.

It was time to utilize the non-player characters at my disposal. Fortunately, Meursault was currently undergoing disciplinary confinement.

“Meursault, do you possess any field rations on you?”

Despite the restriction order, manpower shortages meant he remained overwhelmed by administrative paperwork. Locating him with the inquiry prompted a stare as though I had lost my senses.

“What is the meaning of that expression?”

“You are the inaugural individual to shake me down for combat rations, young master.”

Ever since I dragged him on a hunting excursion, his conversational style had grown increasingly abrasive daily. Securing an assignment in a subjugation campaign, accumulating merits, and earning a formal military rank was necessary so Meursault would resume addressing me with proper deference.

“I lack any combat rations, however.”

“For what reason? Because you are not a frontline soldier?”

“I avoid the battlefields, for one. Furthermore, they taste dreadful. The previous instance I consumed field rations occurred during my time as a private, I believe.”

Meursault delivered the reply flatly, then observed me intently for an extended duration.

“The motivation driving a young master who, akin to myself, possesses no reason to approach the front lines to actively hunt for combat rations eludes me entirely…”

He appeared to weigh thoughts internally before offering a nod.

“Several matters require my verification as well. Would you accompany me to the research facility?”

The research facility. The location Meursault referenced officially bore the designation of the Zone Security Research Institute—a complex housing numerous research agreements dedicated to developing all military equipment excluding direct weaponry, encompassing field rations, combat uniforms, and similar goods. My initial objective involved merely testing the effects of combat rations, yet stopping by the facility to investigate whether they possessed the technology to manufacture player-grade wall-grain tablets seemed equally beneficial.

Why was Meursault extending such an invitation, though?

“Plans were set for me to visit once my confinement concluded… yet accompanying you as your security escort expedites the process.”

Thus, he required a justification to visit the institute while restricted. The exact nature of Meursault’s “business” remained unclear, yet the moment we reached the military police checkpoint prior to entering the complex, I froze completely.

The expressionless military police officer snapped a crisp salute the instant he recognized Meursault—while tears flowed continuously from one eye. The tears themselves failed to shock me, however. I recognized this non-player character. The son of the late Lieutenant General Batom. Based on my recollection, this individual was originally not stationed as an institute military police officer. Had his posting shifted following Batom’s demise?

“My condolences regarding your father.”

While I always regarded Meursault as a genuine sociopath, Batom’s offspring responded evenly.

“Negative, sir. I am the party who should apologize for this unseemly display. Your identities are verified—please proceed inside.”

My awareness that non-player characters maintained families was established. Yet witnessing a relative weep after I had eliminated that specific non-player character marked a novel experience. Moreover, this environment lacked game mechanics; this was the inhabited reality.

Even after clearing the checkpoint and stepping inside, a profound quiet persisted for a considerable period. Meursault initiated the conversation.

“This may fall outside my purview…”

What an ominous opening remark.

“If it grants you even minor peace of mind—Batom abandoned that youth the moment he drew breath.”

I halted my movement and pivoted to face him. Meursault stopped as well, continuing his explanation.

“He had not yet attained the rank of lieutenant general when that soldier was born. Consequently, the child was discarded and raised within an orphanage. To my knowledge, he discovered Batom’s paternity relatively recently. Still… a parent remains a parent, presumably. The tears emerged.”

Batom’s abandoned offspring… did that detail exist within the established lore? While I tracked every non-player character’s designation and assignment, every nuance of history binding them remained unknown. What astonished me beyond the abandoned-child background was the fact that Meursault had intervened in my affairs at all. The data held no practical utility for me regardless.

Furthermore, that Daphne-fixated fanatic went out of his way to voice unnecessary details purely to comfort me.

“An additional fortunate circumstance exists.”

“State it.”

“Instructions dictated that I eliminate him should he exhibit even the slightest animosity toward you, young master. The sole expression observable upon that soldier’s countenance was mere resignation. Consequently, an innocuous young man escapes execution. That brings relief.”

His “business” entailed executing potential dissidents? I had previously assumed Commander Hayden occupied the role of the Northern Grand Duke. Was I roleplaying the progeny of some northern tyrant?