Chapter 8

Chapter 8
Before the Commander made his way back, the household staff verified that we had finished every single cookie before showing us to our respective sleeping quarters. Whether it was a stroke of good fortune or something else, the Commander showed no signs of wanting to banish Taejeong Taese from the estate, granting the boy a bedroom of his own as well. The worn military garments Taejeong Taese had been sporting when he was first possessed were thrown out, substituted with a set of plain yet fresh pajamas.

Once I felt certain the servants had cleared out, I brought up the system interface to inspect it more closely.

Starting with the inventory…

The storage space held merely two objects: Luna Moon’s ring and Luna Moon’s dog tags. Even though the Commander had confiscated the tags at Safety No. 8, they remained housed within my inventory. Ownership rights evidently favored the player above all else. I tested this mechanic using the ring already on my finger. Anything belonging to me could be stored inside the inventory window and retrieved at will whenever necessary, even without physically carrying the item. The dog tags could likely be summoned similarly if I chose, but I left them untouched, wanting to avoid sparking any suspicion from the Commander.

Next, I looked over the locked chat interface. Engaging in conversation, naturally, demanded an active interlocutor.

Perhaps the chat features would unlock the moment another player initialized their system.

Should that occur and allow me to converse with fellow players, I could finally verify if acquiring meteor items truly served as the prerequisite for unlocking the system. I scoured every single corner of the dashboard, but for the time being, the only functional options were Character Inspection, Inventory, and Titles.

There was also a “Zone Development” category listed among the unlocked menus.

Useless. Once the Second Apocalypse arrives, zones lose all significance.

The inhabitants of the Beer Zone, who had established themselves deep beneath the waves inside a massive submarine known as the “Ark,” along with the Unicorn Zone populace who hoisted an entire floating island into the stratosphere, were both forced back onto terrestrial ground for the exact same reason: the Second Apocalypse. Much like the First, it commenced with a shower of meteors plunging from the skies, except these particular rocks gave rise to airborne and aquatic monsters. Territories that had fled to the ocean or the air because threats previously existed solely on land suddenly found themselves forced to crawl back onto the mainland. From that instant onward, it was total warfare. Beer and Unicorn needed territory to call their own, prompting them to launch raids against the Safe Zones. The remaining zones, entirely unequipped for aerial or naval combat, plunged straight into chaos.

Every zone-bound player faced a stark choice: disregard zone development altogether and channel everything into boosting personal stats, or refuse to abandon the zone and transform it into a fortified shelter. Zones possessing decent land and resources became prime targets. That precisely explained why my original home base had been Unicorn. The probability of anyone successfully plundering a Unicorn shelter was practically nonexistent—because how did they manage to fly? I had tamed airborne beasts. How did I accomplish that? Methods existed; other players simply dismissed the task as overly difficult.

If anyone spawning in Unicorn happened to follow my strategic blueprint, that territory functioned as an absolute gold mine. They would develop it for shelter conversion and proactively prepare for raids by flying monsters. Why was the starting difficulty in Unicorn so punishing when monster assaults did not even begin until the Second Apocalypse? Because for the ensuing decade, the region faced virtually zero monster threats, allowing residents to pour all their efforts into development until food production became self-sustaining, scientific advancements yielded high-level medicine, and weapon quality remained stellar even in the absence of active combat. The catch was that the local populace leaned slightly toward madness—it was essentially a mad-scientist zone. One only needed to look at how they levitated their entire district into the sky just to escape the apocalypse to grasp the situation. NPCs smarter than the players themselves populated the area, and anyone deemed even fractionally lacking in intelligence was instantly repurposed as a public-service test subject. Zone difficulty scaled in direct proportion to how deeply depraved the inhabitants were.

Regardless, I needed to settle on my second reward prior to the Commander’s return…

The only reasonable favors I could request at the moment were securing permanent residence for Taejeong Taese or summoning the Shut-in Darling I had recruited just yesterday. Squandering a reward merely to keep two players close by felt inefficient. Shut-in Darling had enlisted only a day prior and remained completely uninformed. Even so, plotting zone strategies together would necessitate regular gatherings.

Singleing out those two specific individuals would draw an excessive amount of notice…

A sharp rap echoed against the bedroom door.

“It is me.”

The Commander’s voice carried a heavier weight of exhaustion than it had earlier that afternoon.

“Am I permitted to enter?”

“Yes, please do.”

Only upon granting permission did the Commander push the door open and step inside. In one hand, he held what appeared to be a standard medical kit.

Ah. Do not tell me…

“Extend your hand.”

He had come to tend to the injury on my finger. When passing over the ring earlier, he must have noticed the damaged tip and carried that concern all the way here equipped with medical supplies. Commendable, except—

The wound had already regenerated completely.

How would he react to that? The interaction earlier had been brief; perhaps he might convince himself he had simply misperceived it. Either way, I could not keep concealing my hand forever, so I cautiously held out both palms.

The Commander stared at my completely unblemished fingers and flinched visibly. His voice shook slightly as he spoke.

“This regenerative capacity… you truly are Luna Moon’s child.”

Pardon?

What was I supposed to make of that? The fact that my healed finger convinced him beyond a doubt that I was Luna Moon’s offspring could only mean one thing—

Luna Moon possessed a similar regenerative ability?

An NPC having access to a power like that should not have been possible…

I desperately wanted to inquire about the exact nature of her healing powers, but doing so would instantly cast suspicion on me. It would be highly unnatural for a child not to recognize an ability the Commander himself was familiar with. Whether bewildered or not, the Commander now appeared entirely certain I was his flesh and blood. The harsh steel framing his features melted away; for a fleeting moment, he looked genuinely overwhelmed.

“Haydam. The reasons I loved Luna Moon yet wed another woman… why, despite holding the high rank of Commander, I still failed to protect both you and her… there are numerous matters a child of your years cannot yet grasp. When you attain an age capable of understanding my words, I shall reveal everything within my knowledge. When that day arrives, I ask that you likewise share everything within yours. Will you grant me that promise?”

Everything he knew? I held little personal interest in the romance shared between the Commander and Luna Moon, but discovering how the lunar-stone ring housing the secrets of the apocalypse became a pledge between them could prove useful. Furthermore, I still needed to uncover what precise healing capabilities Luna Moon had wielded.

Could Luna Moon have been…?

No—assuming she was also a player went far beyond reason. The Commander stood waiting for a reply, prompting me to give a slow nod. A faint smile touched his lips as he gently tapped my shoulder.

“You must be exhausted. Rest now.”

“Um…”

“Hmm?”

“There is one favor I would like to request.”

The instant those words left my lips, the Three Rewards counter manifested before my vision.

“What sort of favor?”

He looked entirely willing to grant whatever I asked. My second reward from the Commander took this form:

“I would like you to organize a monthly dining event with other children my age.”

The concept struck me the moment he brought up Luna Moon’s healing gifts. Within this zone, anyone capable of “healing”—meaning anyone capable of absorbing a player—was bound to be a player themselves. Hosting communal meals would allow me to differentiate NPCs from actual players. New players still unaccustomed to player-style dining habits would inevitably betray themselves through awkward behavior. The sole surviving players in this district might simply be myself, Shut-in Darling, and Taejeong Taese, but verifying that detail carried no downsides. Sharing meals with peers would also cultivate a favorable impression among local residents, render casual interactions with Taejeong Taese or Shut-in Darling feel organic, and most critically—earn me the trust of the exact generation destined to drive operations during the Second Apocalypse a decade from now.

The Commander looked mildly perplexed by the proposition.

“Why make such a request?”

“I was fortunate enough to receive fine clothing and proper meals, but there are still starving children out there. I wish to share even a modest amount with them.”

“Hmm…”

He hesitated, hunting for an appropriate response. Naturally he did. He had anticipated some childish whim; gathering children monthly for meals was essentially political theater. Even so, it fell well within his power to grant. Time to tug at his sense of guilt.

I fidgeted with my fingers as though carefully gauging his reaction,

“If organizing these meals proves too costly… I will gladly restrict myself to a single meal a day.”

“What did you say?”

His tone spiked sharper than any prior interaction. I pressed forward.

“I suffered through plenty of starvation outside, so one meal is quite enough for me. I do not require expensive cookies like the ones from earlier, either. Is it truly impossible…?”

“…No. That much poses no real difficulty. It will prove tight this month, but I shall arrange the inaugural gathering for the start of the next month.”

His complexion appeared even more troubled than a moment prior, yet the reward counter ticked upward, confirming the sincerity of his agreement.

THREE REWARDS
Progress: 2/3

To maintain solid relations with the Commander, I still needed to offer a sweetener. I grabbed onto his sleeve with a bright, beaming expression and exclaimed,

“Thank you, Father!”

He jerked back in surprise, fixing his gaze on me.

“Father… did you just call me that?”

“Ah—should I have addressed you as Your Excellency instead?”

“Ahem… No. Address me however you please.”

This fellow was clearly delighted while trying hard to conceal it. After all, I had played the role of his son on multiple occasions.

Insisting that I genuinely required rest, he guided me onto the bed and pulled the covers up securely.

“Sleep soundly.”

“Sweet dreams, Father.”

He exited the chamber with movements that creaked strangely. Every gesture directed toward a child looked foreign to him, yet the genuine affection he harbored for Luna Moon’s child shone through clearly.

I did give Luna Moon my word that I would treat Hayden Goodman like my actual father…

Viewing him as a true father might prove impossible, but ensuring his survival through the Second Apocalypse remained entirely feasible. After all, he needed to stay alive to take command of my shelter.

Still…

Why on earth had that convenience store housed so many players to begin with? As I lay there, Safety No. 8’s final moments suddenly flashed vividly across my mind. He had not suffered some catastrophic mechanical failure; he had simply fallen short of being recognized as an illegitimate son. He represented a player who could still have averted the apocalypse via numerous alternate paths. And yet, the system mercilessly purged anyone whose route failed. Therefore, what was the purpose of possessing multiple players in the first place?

If special privileges belong exclusively to me, the full-zone clearer, then what purpose do the other players serve at all…?

That precise moment brought a fresh system notification materializing before my eyes.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
A 1:1 private chat is available exclusively between mutual friends.

Oh…

Another player had finally unlocked their system. Chat functionality genuinely demanded at least two active participants.

I need to verify whether acquiring a meteor item serves as the genuine unlocking condition.

I pressed the Enter key. Two consecutive alerts appeared instantly.

PUBLIC CHAT
▷ ‘Dopamine Addict’ has joined the public chat room.
▷ ‘T-balnom’ has joined the public chat room.

I bolted upright in bed.