Chapter 46

Chapter 46
Before the assembly of officers took place, I went to seek out Daphne. My purpose was twofold: to inform her that Meursault intended to participate in the expedition, and to gather information regarding the otome game itself.

“Meursault is joining the expedition?” Daphne asked, her surprise completely genuine, just as I had anticipated. “In the span of ten years, he has never once personally joined a suppression operation… It is possible that Hayden’s appearance provoked some change within him. He is not a man driven by mere emotion.”

Though startled, her response was more composed than I had originally imagined. Given a username like Meursault’s Wife, I had assumed she would fiercely oppose her favorite walking straight into danger.

“Are you comfortable with this? With Meursault heading out on a campaign?” I inquired.

“If that is what Meursault desires. And if… if seeing Hayden provided him with the necessary courage…” She clutched her teacup tightly with both hands. “Should Meursault return safely from this campaign… I believe I might finally voice my true feelings.”

“…That has the distinct ring of a death fla—never mind.” The instant those words slipped past my lips, Daphne’s expression stiffened, prompting me to pivot immediately. “I will assist Meursault in any way possible. Which leads to another matter—as a player, is there any advice or help you can offer?”

“As a player?” she echoed.

“I still do not fully comprehend the nature of your power, Daphne.”

She offered a gentle smile. “Being a player does not grant one supreme authority. I do possess an item that boosts my appearance, but its sole function is to slightly increase favorability.”

“Is that so?”

Which meant, conversely, that Daphne had managed to endure for a decade possessing virtually no combat capabilities. Had she wielded some extraordinary power, I might have felt more secure, but realizing she had survived this long entirely on her own made her presence weigh all the more heavily on my mind. And if she happened to be fabricating this, it would signify that she harbored doubts about me as well.

My expression likely darkened, as Daphne quickly looked apologetic. “I am sorry. I truly wish I could be of greater assistance… I do possess a healing gift, but it will be of no use to Hayden.”

So she did indeed possess a healing ability, identical to Luna Moon’s. She had not deliberately concealed it from me; she had simply judged it insignificant enough to omit.

“Ah, if you are curious about what it does—” she began, but I cut her off.

“I inherited that exact power from my mother.”

Daphne stared at me, astonishment clear on her face. “I-it can be passed down?”

Sooner or later, she was bound to discover my capacity for healing. The moment she witnessed my injuries closing at an unnatural speed, anyone familiar with that gift would immediately connect the dots. It was far wiser to address it proactively. Before she could begin interrogating my abilities, I assumed a soft expression and delivered a line heavy with emotional weight.

“Every time I utilize it, I feel as though Mother is standing right beside me, watching over my steps.”

Naturally, Daphne looked profoundly moved. “Ah…! Of course she is. This must be the enduring legacy that Luna Moon left behind for Hayden!” Her conviction that I was truly Luna Moon’s son seemed to solidify further, and the gaze she directed toward me grew noticeably tender.

Frankly, managing to survive for ten years equipped with nothing more than an appearance-enhancing item struck me as an extraordinary feat. I was beginning to feel a deep sense of respect for this woman who had navigated a decade inside a virtual world without breaking.

“You must miss your mother dearly.”

“Of course… There is no child who does not yearn for their mother.”

At my response, Daphne appeared to reach a firm conclusion. “Actually… I have been preparing a present.”

“A present?”

“Yes. Not long ago, Anton mentioned to me that not a single photograph of Luna Moon remains.”

Anton? I heavily doubted Anton had brought that up to Daphne without an ulterior motive. If Daphne had been crafting this surprise independently, that would be one thing, but if Anton was involved in selecting this gift, I doubted their intentions were pure.

“He instructed me to keep it confidential until the officers’ meeting… but seeing how deeply Hayden misses Luna Moon, I simply could not keep it to myself.”

He had ordered her to maintain secrecy, yet she was divulging it to me anyway. In moments like these, I felt genuinely grateful that Daphne was a player. Even after ten years of close association, she remained far more aligned with me—the sole person who understood her true background—than with Anton. Anton likely never suspected that after a decade by her side, she would prioritize protecting the son of his rival far above him.

“We have been working on a portrait of Luna Moon. So that whenever Hayden feels the absence of his mother, he can gaze upon her likeness.”

A portrait of Luna Moon? On the surface, presenting an orphaned child with a picture of his mother appeared entirely innocent. Yet the deliberate choice to craft a portrait of Luna Moon carried deeper implications: they harbored suspicions about my identity. In truth, anyone investigating the slums near the graveyard would inevitably find my sudden appearance questionable, given that I had literally dropped out of nowhere. Anton intended to present Luna Moon’s portrait to me specifically to test whether I genuinely recognized her.

When I informed Daphne of my desire to visit my mother’s grave after all this time, she readily provided me with a vehicle and a driver. I rode her car to the slums where Luna Moon’s burial site was located, instructed the driver to wait at a distance, and equipped the Extra’s Mask title to obscure my facial features. Slipping out of sight, I changed into garments stored within my inventory and walked into the slums.

The streets looked far too tidy to warrant the title of slums. Compared to my previous visit to excavate the grave, the area had been significantly cleaned up—the commander had undoubtedly ordered inspections of the surrounding district after beginning his frequent visits. I scoured the alleys for anyone whose attire did not match that of a typical slum resident. If Anton had previously dispatched someone to gather intelligence, that individual would have been generously compensated, making their living conditions stand out.

My assumption proved correct. I soon located an elderly man whose clothing, while understated, was tailored from fabric far too refined for anyone dwelling in this district. He had ample provisions and barely glanced at the dried meat I offered. However, when I produced a fragrant handkerchief I had brought along, he readily shared everything he knew.

“People from the military came around inquiring if anyone recognized a boy named Haydam.”

“They were investigating the child?”

“Indeed. When I told them I was unaware of him, they asked whether a boy with black hair and black eyes had ever resided in this village.”

The old man’s gaze drifted toward me, yet he gave no indication that my hair or eyes appeared unusual. It was fortunate I had activated the title that blurred my features; to him, my hair likely appeared as a dark brown shade.

“Did a child matching that description live here?”

“No. A child with black hair is not something one easily forgets, and I informed them I had never witnessed such a person.”

“And how did they respond?”

He clicked his tongue. “The grave is known as the nameless plot—how could I possibly know who rests there? Some high-ranking individuals have frequented the site lately, but I told them I had no desire to poke my nose into matters outside my concern out of mere curiosity.”

“Did they depart quietly after that?”

“Not at all. A stubborn bunch, every last one of them.” The way he patted his pocket suggested he had spoken only after receiving a substantial payout. “They kept pressing, so I recalled an old man who passed away recently—he used to claim the person in that grave was a benefactor who aided villagers during the plague years ago. I passed that along to them. Though I also mentioned that the old man was advanced in years and not entirely stable of mind, so they could take it for what it was worth.”

“And following that?”

“Then they posed a truly bizarre inquiry.”

“Bizarre?”

“They asked if I knew anything about signs indicating the grave had been disturbed.” The old man chuckled incredulously. “Who in their right mind would answer affirmatively to such a question? It appears to me that this black-haired kid Haydam dug up someone important’s resting place, and now they are tracking him down…”

Well. His conclusion was incorrect, yet not entirely wide of the mark.

“Ah—and when I mentioned that the nameless grave had remained undisturbed in that spot for a very long time, the soldiers’ expressions shifted, and they departed.”

Hm. That covered everything I needed to ascertain.

“I understand. Thank you for the information. You may keep the dried meat.”

“Ah. Well, if you insist on gifting it.”

I parted ways with the old man, whose smile stretched broadly across his face, then took a deliberately winding path toward an isolated area. There, I reverted to my original attire and proceeded directly to Luna Moon’s burial site. Although my primary business was concluded, I needed witnesses to confirm my presence at the grave; otherwise, people might question why fresh flowers had suddenly appeared there. Given that flowers were nearly impossible to find in this snow-shrouded apocalypse, I had managed the situation by scattering a few blooms I brought along.

Come to think of it, this ring had always felt closely linked to an NPC connected to Luna Moon. I had been playing the role of her son while treating the item with casual indifference. I resolved to visit the grave more frequently moving forward. As that thought crossed my mind, the moonstone embedded in the ring flickered momentarily, almost as if responding. I smiled faintly at the ring and turned my gaze back toward the grave.

Despite the commander’s upkeep, it remained an old burial site, and the disturbance Safety No. 8 and I had created still appeared suspiciously loose to a discerning eye. As for the signs of excavation… I would simply claim that Anjeon8yeok had dug it up while attempting to impersonate me. The commander had witnessed that individual bring Luna Moon’s dog tags; he would not doubt my explanation.

As for the grave’s age… it proved nothing. In a world shattered by the First Apocalypse, no technology existed to precisely date a burial. This was precisely why Anton intended to present me with Luna Moon’s portrait and observe my reaction. He undoubtedly assumed I would remain unfamiliar with her true facial features. In reality, the only aspect of Luna Moon I had previously encountered was her skeletal remains. Yet now that I anticipated the portrait’s arrival, I could prepare an adequate performance.

Even so, the fact that no resident in the slums recognized a child named Haydam posed a potential risk. I would maintain that Luna Moon had raised me in absolute seclusion, and that her passing had occurred recently. While other elders might remember her perishing while treating the plague, the commander already knew Luna Moon possessed healing abilities, making my narrative sound entirely plausible.

Having finalized my preparations for Anton’s trap, I stepped into the officers’ assembly. But the exact moment my eyes landed on the portrait Anton unveiled—

I realized something was profoundly wrong.

The face painted upon that canvas belonged to my real mother.