Chapter 69

Chapter 69
My internal deduction pointed to the NPC housed within the ring being the genuine Haydam. Naturally, had anyone inquired how the long-departed Haydam wound up trapped inside a gemstone embedded in a band—and disguised as a feline, no less—I would have lacked any explanation. Still, my gut feeling persisted, insisting that this little rascal was the authentic Haydam. Yet, at that precise instant, he retreated back into the ring. Instead of responding to my query about his true identity, he simply vanished inside. Afterward, any attempt to provoke a reaction proved completely useless, as he seemed bound by restrictions prohibiting him from confirming the truth either way.

Though his exact situation remained unclear, treating him as the real Haydam felt preferable to dealing with an entirely unknown NPC, ensuring his desire to safeguard the Commander stayed untangled from hidden agendas. Provided I played the role of Haydam to his satisfaction—and avoided bringing sorrow to the Commander—he would maintain our cooperation. Moreover, living as Haydam with the original owner’s unspoken approval would hopefully ease a fraction of my lingering guilt. Even so, shouting the name Haydam out loud at the ring would inevitably arouse suspicion from onlookers. Since he refused to acknowledge his identity or offer an alternative moniker, choosing a designation myself seemed entirely reasonable. Following a brief pause for thought, I addressed the ring directly.

“From now on, your name is Luna.”

A cat residing inside Luna Moon’s ring made Luna a straightforward choice. The band gave a subtle, irritated shudder in response to my casual naming process. Why on earth couldn’t the fellow simply admit to being Haydam? What made him rely on someone else to impersonate him? Did he prefer avoiding the Commander while trapped in the form of a cat beast? Exactly what catastrophic events led to him getting sealed inside Luna Moon’s ring?

Countless inquiries flooded my thoughts, but immediate priorities demanded attention, particularly concerning Lieutenant General Max and whether he genuinely ordered the assassination of Bones. Discharge from the medical facility followed shortly after regaining consciousness. Upon discovery inside the cavern at the cliff’s base, my body bore zero injuries, and every medical evaluation returned completely normal. Although the Commander vehemently opposed my departure, stopping me proved impossible once my mind was made up. The moment I stepped outside, Meursault dropped an unexpected revelation.

“The Team Two leader committed suicide?”

According to Meursault, following the retrieval of the Team Two leader from the cliffside and his return to the Zone, detention measures were enforced. The very next morning, he was discovered lifeless.

“The official cause of death remains listed as suicide. For now.”

“For now?”

“A security detail monitored him continuously. For unknown reasons, they abandoned their posts, returning later to find him hanging.”

Consequently, Meursault was already entertaining the theory of a staged suicide, which stood as a logical suspicion.

“How far has the investigation progressed?”

“With the Team Two leader conveniently dead and his men’s remains missing, our only remaining sources are the testimonies of Bones and Lucas… and those two refuse to utter a word about the incident. Conversation with the Commander helped clarify why they chose silence.”

Terror over Max potentially being branded the culprit drove them to seal their lips. Yet with only two survivors left from Team Two, maintaining silence represented an exceptionally foolish tactic.

“Did you attempt to persuade them?”

Meursault offered a subtle nod.

“They indicated willingness to speak once Lord Haydam regained consciousness.”

Those stubborn fools… Actually, viewed from a different angle, perhaps their approach was shrewder. My planted suggestion that Max might be innocent meant they weren’t complete fools; blurting out accusations linking the Team Two leader’s claims directly to Max would only worsen his standing. They undoubtedly chose to wait until my influence could back the assertion of Max’s innocence.

“Fair enough for those two. But you hardly seem like someone who simply sat around waiting for me to wake up.”

“Negative, sir. At the time, Lord Haydam, you coerced a confession from the Team Two leader stating that Max orchestrated the hit. Both the Commander and Second Lieutenant Platon provided testimony to that effect, resulting in the detention of Lieutenant General Max as well.”

“And what is Max’s defense?”

“He maintains complete ignorance. What are your thoughts, sir?”

His question signaled that Meursault already suspected deeper complications surrounding the situation.

“Max is innocent. He gains nothing from such an order, and if the Team Two leader intended to die regardless, fabricating a confession served no purpose.”

“The Commander appears to share that perspective… though that merely complicates matters further.”

” Implying someone within Father’s inner circle is the actual perpetrator?”

Meursault stiffened momentarily before lowering his voice.

“You already… deduced the truth, then.”

Already deduced it. This meant Meursault shared awareness of the real culprit’s identity, which implied—

“Surely Father hasn’t reached the exact same conclusion?”

Rather than offering a denial, Meursault simply met my gaze in silence.

These individuals… They recognize the guilty party yet withhold punishment. What previously stood as mere speculation now solidified into absolute certainty. The mastermind who fabricated the order under Max’s name in an attempt to eliminate Bones was none other than the leader of the pro-Hayden faction himself—General Yosef.

“Seven soldiers perished over this. Hesitating due to political motivations leaves me somewhat… disappointed.”

Meursault appeared thoroughly rattled, rushing to clarify.

“I-It isn’t like that! Hard evidence would change everything, but accusing our closest allies without proof is impossible. Furthermore, the actual executioner was the Team Two leader—who is already deceased. Added to that, both the Commander and Platon heard him confess under duress while pleading for his life that Max coerced him, so—”

“Meursault.”

Interrupting him halted his frantic rationalization.

“Why is evidence necessary?”

“…Sir?”

“Did concrete proof exist when we eliminated Lieutenant General Batom?”

Meursault stared fixedly, expression caught between deep admiration and utter disbelief.

“Lord Haydam… you genuinely possess the makings of an exceptional dictator…”

Whether “exceptional” belonged alongside “dictator” remained debatable; more importantly, this confirmed his awareness of the Commander’s dictatorial nature. Useful information indeed.

“However… applying that approach currently introduces immense hazards. Batom operated outside the perimeter. Employing identical tactics against individuals inside the perimeter will shatter loyalty permanently—even if the targeted party is genuinely culpable.”

“Handling this personally is not my intention.”

“Issuing an order for me to execute it yields the identical outcome.”

Naturally, he assumed the task would fall onto his shoulders.

“What makes you think the job would go to you?”

“Then who, sir?”

“Anton.”

The unexpected name rendered Meursault speechless for a prolonged moment.

“Are you serious? No—would he ever consent to such an assignment?”

“Proceeding to threaten him directly starts now.”

Meursault’s expression sagged with defeat before settling into reluctant compliance.

“…Anton’s later years are bound to be thoroughly miserable.”

Sympathy for Anton ran that deep, apparently.

“Enduring near-fatal hazards because of those Team Two scoundrels means letting this slide is out of the question. Inform Father that this matter is handled by my hand.”

“Refraining from telling him in person?”

“Doing so would simply provoke warnings of extreme danger and a direct prohibition. You know that well enough.”

Suddenly, Meursault fixed a piercing stare in my direction.

“…What is with that look?”

“Merely pondering how anyone can possess such cold-blooded ruthlessness.”

“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“Haa…”

Exhaling heavily with trembling lips, Meursault displayed an expression never witnessed before, causing me to blink in silence as he continued.

“Lord Haydam… biological paternity may not belong to me, but your arrival at the Commander’s residence meant closer vigilance than even your actual father provided. Naturally, anxiety accompanies your hunting expeditions. Naturally, regret lingers that another body didn’t intercept the bullet meant for you. Word of your fall from a cliff and subsequent disappearance drove me frantic with terror that catastrophe had struck. You claim the Commander would automatically forbid dangerous pursuits? Do you imagine my stance differs?”

“Meur-Meursault…”

“Yet obedience toward me or the Commander was never part of your plan, was it? Following an entire week unconscious, your opening inquiry upon finding me concerned the fate of the Team Two leader…!!”

Evidently, a vast reservoir of suppressed emotional hurt had built up within Meursault. Knowledge concerning him originated entirely from the game, leading me to view the sociopathic Meursault—solely devoted to Daphne—as an ally interested only in securing her divorce. Playing the supportive family card myself masked the realization that he genuinely regarded me as kin. Grievances had been dealt to my actual parents over the years without return, yet this moment invoked the feeling of an utterly unfilial son. Hospital awakening had brought a scolding from the Commander, but this carried a distinctly different weight.

“…My apologies, Meursault.”

“An apology was not the goal of this conversation.”

“Promises to avoid dangerous activities cannot be made. Apologies for that as well.”

“Does that qualify as an apology?”

Glaring initially, Meursault gradually softened as continued apologies registered.

“So what specific threats do you intend to use against Anton?”

The abrupt topic shift clearly masked embarrassment over his emotional outburst, prompting a magnanimous decision to ignore it.

“Well, pure blackmail isn’t mandatory… reaching an agreement remains an option.”

“Blackmail or agreement, imagining Anton committing murder on your behalf remains impossible, Lord Haydam.”

“Murder is not the objective.”

Confusion flickered across Meursault’s features.

“Explain, then.”

“Anton’s role involves delivering certainty.”

“Certainty regarding what?”

“Certainty establishing Max’s innocence. Certainty proving Yosef’s guilt.”

Confusion deepened visibly on Meursault’s face.

“Absence of evidence was your previous argument. Why demand certainty?”

“Personal preference regarding the guilty party is nonexistent for me. Others, however, care deeply.”

“Ah… the newly commissioned officers.”

Precisely. Certainty served others, not myself. Seasoned political operators like myself, the Commander, and Meursault already recognized Yosef’s complicity—Max stood to gain zero benefit from the chaos. Conversely, Bones and Lucas lacked that insight, leaving Bones especially vulnerable to lifelong doubts regarding whether Max genuinely abandoned him unless absolute proof materialized. Public transparency was vital to establish that Max never forsook Bones.

“Yet… why establish Yosef’s guilt explicitly?”

“Otherwise, his eventual demise will feel entirely unsatisfactory.”

“Murder was ruled out earlier.”

“Correct.”

“Killing him personally is also off the table.”

“Obviously.”

“Then what is the method for eliminating Yosef?”

“Sinners frequently invite divine retribution.”

“Pardon?”

A finger pointed upward toward the sky.

“Who knows… a stray bolt of lightning might happen to strike directly upon his skull.”

After all, a player still struggling with the precise control of supernatural abilities might accidentally drop lightning straight onto the bastard’s head.