Chapter 47

Chapter 47
A likeness of Luna Moon! What an extraordinary present.
I never suspected General Anton could display such consideration.
What on earth are they blathering about.
You were kept in the dark as well, Your Excellency?
Negative. I never envisioned General Anton watching over Haydam with this level of diligence…
It has been an entire decade since I last laid eyes on Luna Moon’s countenance!
What are these individuals even talking about.
How can this possibly be Luna Moon?
This is the face of my own mother.
The murmurs of the others gathered in the conference hall drifted toward me as a muffled, distant sound. Before I realized my own actions, I had walked closer to the framed artwork and was gently tracing the visage depicted upon it—my mother’s visage. It could simply be a lookalike. There had to be some distinguishing features separating this woman from my actual mother.
However the rest interpreted my reaction, expressions of sympathy arose behind me.
This… does not appear to be an appropriate environment for us to stay.
Perhaps it would prove wisest if we withdrew for a brief moment…
Your Excellency, shall we suspend the session?
…Affirmative. I will broadcast a revised timetable later through Major General Meursault.
They filed cautiously out of the executive chamber, as though frightened of disturbing my close examination of the painting. Even Anton, who had introduced the portrait specifically to undermine me, departed alongside them.
Yet regardless of how obsessively I scrutinized it, the face belonged to my mother. Right down to the solitary mole situated beneath her eye, this female bore my mother’s exact features.
Luna Moon? A non-player character from this virtual simulation titled Safety Zone? The individual whose offspring I was impersonating?
I became aware that I had stopped breathing. Vertigo swirled through my brain, and the air I had been holding rushed out all at once.
Hah…!
Here, of all locations.
I never anticipated coming face-to-face with my birth mother in this place. No—I had wished never to gaze upon that person’s features ever again if I could avoid it. And yet I had stumbled across her once more in a setting I least expected.
Dam-ah, pay close attention.
A voice from times past—the final one I heard from that individual—grazed across my consciousness.
You possess a sharp mind. You will find happiness even absent Mother. You will achieve contentment.
When I inquired why I needed to find joy without her, she responded:
Because should you remain unhappy, I will feel sorrow.
Thus I asked whether even a cold-hearted person like her experienced sadness, and the reply she delivered was utterly characteristic of her:
Parents and offspring are hardwired in that manner.
Indeed… she had uttered something that absurd. I believe we established some form of pact while discussing the matter… Not that I possessed any obligation to uphold an agreement with such an unreliable guardian.
Yet what mattered at present was not a half-remembered vow made with my maternal parent. It was the woman standing directly before me, possessing my mother’s face.
Why does Luna Moon feature that woman’s likeness?
What were the statistical probabilities that the software developers, while selecting an Asian woman’s appearance, had accidentally utilized my mother’s as a template? But since that visage had never formally manifested within the program itself, it was far more plausible that this realm’s Luna Moon and my mother merely “coincidentally” shared identical features.
Naturally, the notion that my biological mother and Luna Moon could be the same entity crossed my mind briefly—that the woman who had been reincarnated into the dating sim and survived as Luna Moon might have been my mother. But that was impossible. It must not be true. If such a reality existed, then my mother had perished within this simulation ten years prior and was presently nothing more than skeletal remains, and I had excavated that very grave while playing the role of her son without even knowing she was my true mother!
No—someone had deliberately transferred my consciousness into this universe and maliciously slapped that woman’s visage onto the character solely to watch me suffer.
Right. That must be the explanation.
An occurrence this deranged could not possibly be factual. This entity is not my mother.
Aside from all those considerations, Anton will harbor no further doubts regarding me.
All thanks to Luna Moon sharing my mother’s countenance.
I had known Anton was preparing a portrait of Luna Moon, but even so, determining what expression to display upon actually witnessing it had presented a dilemma. My acting abilities were improving daily, but had I possessed the talent to naturally convey the look of a child confronting his maternal parent, I would have pursued acting instead of becoming a reclusive gamer.
Then I was confronted with a canvas depicting my actual mother. Zero acting required.
Consequently, they would possess an even firmer conviction that I was unquestionably Luna Moon’s progeny. To put it bluntly, that outcome favored my objectives—even if it signified that I would be forced to address the woman in this painting as “Mother” while harboring an unease I could not properly name.
…Even so, I ought to verify the matter once.
The facial features in the portrait continued to trouble me. I never imagined I would resort to requesting assistance from that individual, however…
Homebody Honey.
Since he had experience playing dating simulators, he might recognize Luna Moon’s in-game appearance. Questioning Daphne about whether this truly represented Luna Moon would appear suspicious, but confirming details with HomebodyHoney should prove uncomplicated.
Meanwhile, following the premature adjournment of the leadership conference, the pro-Daphne faction officials congregated once again around Anton.
The pro-Hayden faction officers had interpreted the portrait of Luna Moon as a peace offering, even offering smiles toward the pro-Daphne members as they departed. However, the mood among the pro-Daphne faction remained heavy and restrained.
That reaction… there can be no mistake, correct?
An individual ventured tentatively, and the remaining officers nodded in consensus.
It appears the hypothesis suggesting Lord Haydam was an impostor was merely unfounded speculation after all.
Then why did the inhabitants of the slums state they had no knowledge of Haydam?
Is it possible they were being deceptive?
Luna Moon may have reared him in strict secrecy. Conceal his identity and hair color, and he would appear indistinguishable from any other youth.
Then what about the reports indicating the burial site was ancient?
Perhaps the elderly residents simply labored under a misconception.
I place greater trust in the expression within Lord Haydam’s eyes upon observing the portrait than in the testimony of those elderly locals.
At those words, the surrounding officers fell quiet, having nothing further to contribute. The instant they witnessed Haydam’s facial reaction while gazing at the artwork, they had even experienced a mild twinge of guilt regarding their attempt to test a young child utilizing his mother’s picture. Such was the dramatic transformation visible on Haydam’s face.
Which implies…
It signified that Haydam was indeed Luna Moon’s offspring—the Commander’s descendant, beyond any doubt. Having witnessed that look in his eyes, the Commander himself would grow even more absolute concerning his own flesh and blood.
What are the chances that performance was manufactured?
A single officer stubbornly resisted abandoning hope, and Anton, wearing a twisted smirk at the edge of his lips, responded with a chilling undertone.
If that display was fabricated, then he is hardly an adversary we could overcome using our capabilities regardless.
Hmm…
The officers clamped their mouths shut bearing expressions of utter defeat. Being informed they were incapable of defeating a mere ten-year-old minor dealt a blow to their dignity, yet Anton’s assessment remained valid. Even if Haydam had anticipated receiving Luna Moon’s portrait during the current executive assembly and prepared accordingly—if a child could instantly manifest that specific expression on demand, then no trap laid by the pro-Daphne faction would alter the outcome.
Just as everyone assembled entertained those thoughts—
Pardon me, what is the meaning of this talk regarding retirement?
They had all intentionally skirted around the subject, yet Lieutenant General Max, maintaining sufficient closeness to Anton as a military academy contemporary, posed the direct inquiry.
Are you genuinely stepping down?
When Anton offered a brief nod of confirmation, the officers grew restless.
Surely not, this occurs so abruptly…
I have grown quite aged myself.
Anton swept his gaze across the assembled officers as he continued.
Advanced in years as I have become, all of you have occupied your respective positions for far too long as well. Someone must vacate their seat in order for the rest of you to advance, must they not?
Internally, the officers had certainly contemplated their own prospective promotions following Anton’s retirement announcement, causing them to flinch while attempting to suppress their reactions. Anton was hardly one to overlook such behavior, and he proceeded with a soft sigh.
And… the decision is not sudden. Ever since the arrival of Lord Haydam, I have recognized that my decades of experience can no longer contend with the rashness of youth.
This statement extended beyond mere rhetoric—it was entirely genuine. Merely keeping Major General Meursault, who was ascending so aggressively, in check had already felt burdensome lately. Furthermore, the Commander’s viper-like son, Haydam, had now entered the equation. From the precise moment Major General Meursault executed Lieutenant General Bartom inside the executive conference hall, Anton’s departure had essentially been determined. Command over this military force would plainly rest not with him, but with Haydam and Meursault—those two individuals.
Rather than endure years of humiliation as a powerless figurehead, I determined it preferable to withdraw while my faculties remain intact and observe from the sidelines. This matter was settled long ago.
If such was the case, why did you withhold any advance warning…
Because my intention was to present a tribute to Lord Haydam, and it would hardly do for you lot to fail to look genuinely astonished.
Had he not announced his resignation right then and there, these fools would have observed proceedings wearing expressions communicating we have already discussed this among ourselves right up until the moment he unveiled the canvas.
The officers, tardily recognizing their misjudgment, gazed toward Anton with uneasy expressions.
If you are absent, General Anton, how are we expected to proceed?
I am stepping down, meaning Yosef will likewise relinquish his post shortly—have no concern. Absent Yosef, that faction consists of nothing more than pathetic incapables.
Will General Yosef willingly surrender the rank of general?
With myself stepping down initially, persisting in retaining a general’s rank would transform him into an ideal candidate for an upcoming firing squad. Their side requires Major General Meursault to ascend as well, does it not?
Ah…
Anton briefly contemplated whether he could genuinely retire and abandon these fools, then swiftly concluded the matter fell outside his responsibilities. In truth, though he had omitted sharing it with the other officers, Anton possessed a dependable contingency plan.
Ultimately, my son Platon is slated to become Lord Haydam’s adjutant…
The arrangement still appeared restricted to an agreement exclusively between Platon and Haydam for the time being. That specific dynamic explained why Anton had remained so obsessed with investigating Haydam’s background. Should Haydam prove to be an impostor, he needed to inject some sense into his own son who was on the verge of foolishly pledging allegiance to him—while the opportunity remained. Yet having witnessed Haydam’s emotional reaction moments prior, Anton experienced disappointment and relief concurrently.
The forthcoming Commander is that youth.
His progeny had selected the correct alignment. Provided Haydam’s lineage proved that unassailable and his competence that exceptional, then his son, serving as adjutant, would occupy the epicenter of authority directly beside him. With even Daphne favorably disposed toward Haydam, any necessity for Anton to step forward and instigate conflict had vanished.
Such was the reasoning underpinning Anton’s choice to accept retirement. In some respects, he conceded defeat after watching Haydam evade even the portrait trap—yet Anton incurred zero losses. He already secured connections with both Platon, designated as Haydam’s aide, and Daphne, who might eventually bear an heir.
Then an individual spoke up.
What about this matter?
The officer who voiced the inquiry was the newly appointed attendee replacing the deceased Lieutenant General Bartom. Having only recently transitioned from major general to lieutenant general, he stood as the most ambitious among them—and, having never personally witnessed Bartom’s homicide, concurrently the person who most severely underestimated Haydam.
Every individual we encountered within the slums professed no familiarity with Lord Haydam.
The sequence of occurrences differs, but ultimately, affirmative.
Under those circumstances, what if we introduce someone from his impoverished past who might recognize Lord Haydam and subject them to interrogation?
At that proposal, Anton’s expression shifted in a peculiar manner.
Are you suggesting an individual exists who recognized Lord Haydam from his days in the slums?
I lack absolute certainty regarding the extent of their familiarity, but among the juvenile soldiers resides a single boy who has circulated claims of sharing a close bond with Lord Haydam.
Who might that be?
Responding to Anton’s inquiry, the officer presented a prepared dossier. Within the photograph affixed to the top, an attractive youth boasting golden hair and features far too refined for a common soldier wore an awkward smile.
A youth designated as Darling Outsider.
Anton stared down at the imagery for an extended duration. He had already resolved to take a step backward—yet a final verification could do no harm. Should this boy genuinely possess knowledge of Haydam, he might uncover unexpected intelligence.
Bring him before me. Refrain from handling him roughly. Accord him the highest degree of care.