Chapter 93

Chapter 93
When Daphne mentioned possessing a sickly younger brother, Meursault tilted his head in confusion. Based on his understanding, only one individual could possibly match that description in relation to her.

“That comes as a surprise. Platon always appeared completely healthy on the outside.”

“Actually… this isn’t about Platon.”

“Pardon me?”

“I already mentioned it. Right now, I am not sharing Daphne’s story. I am sharing my own.”

Daphne gazed at him with an expression that seemed to beg for his comprehension. Yet, if this tale did not belong to Daphne, whose narrative was he actually hearing? Meursault had no earthly idea.

Noticing his bewildered expression, Daphne murmured in a discouraged tone,

“If I just seem out of my mind to you, I can stop talking right here…”

“Ah, no.”

Meursault hurriedly waved his hands.

“I want to listen. Not to Daphne’s story. To yours.”

He meant it sincerely. A narrative belonging to someone other than Daphne herself? How wonderfully bizarre. It felt as though he was uncovering an entirely new dimension of her personality, and he welcomed the realization.

“Truly? Do you genuinely want to hear more?”

Daphne’s countenance lit up. She reached out to grasp one of Meursault’s arms and began recounting the tale of that specific person.

The account, which stretched back to early childhood, was so vivid that Meursault found himself entirely drawn in without resistance.

“Ever since I first comprehended the world around me, my ambition was to become a physician. I believed that by becoming a doctor, I could heal my younger brother’s chronic illness.”

“You were a dedicated sister.”

“I eventually achieved my goal and became a physician—yet holding that title does not grant the power to cure everything.”

“Then… your brother…”

“I cannot say for certain. The final time I laid eyes on him, his health was failing, and after that point, our paths could no longer cross… meaning by now, my brother might well be…”

Her voice trembled as she spoke, and even though Meursault still suspected the narrative might be a fabrication, an instinctive surge of worry caused him to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“If discussing this causes you pain, you are under no obligation to continue, Daphne.”

“Negative. I wish to tell you. Married partners ought to keep no secrets from one another.”

While Meursault quietly wrestled with the question of whether he, too, should harbor zero secrets from her, Daphne pressed on.

“And the honest truth is… my eyes are not naturally violet.”

“That is an exceptionally peculiar claim to make. Those striking violet eyes are entirely clear to me at this very moment.”

“Their original color is black.”

Black? That revelation genuinely startled him. Among all the people Meursault had ever encountered, black eyes were exclusive to Hayden and Haydam—merely two individuals. Or three, if he factored in Luna Moon from the portrait he had viewed not long ago.

“They are black… and they lack any true beauty.”

“They are undeniably beautiful.”

“I speak with complete seriousness, Meursault. Right now, you are simply captivated by my gaze.”

Hearing that, Meursault could not suppress a loud laugh.

“Naturally, I am captivated by you.”

“Meursault.”

As if reaching a firm resolution, Daphne raised her head away from his shoulder and stared directly at him.

“Shut your eyes for a moment. I will reveal my true eyes to you.”

“Your true… eyes?”

“Affirmative. This might well be my final opportunity to show you.”

At that juncture, he gave little deep thought to why she termed it a final opportunity. He merely assumed she meant she might never again gather the bravery to utter something so absurd. After all, the notion that Daphne’s eyes had never originally been violet was entirely novel to him.

“Very well, Daphne. Then…”

Even so, Meursault obediently closed his eyes.

Scarcely had he kept them shut when her voice sounded once more.

“Meursault, open your eyes and gaze upon me.”

He opened them and looked directly at Daphne.

And astonishingly—the violet shade from moments before had vanished without a trace. Pitch-black pupils met his gaze instead.

And yet, strangely enough…

They felt entirely familiar.

Even though the eyes glowing violet only seconds prior were now jet black, he felt neither astonishment nor confusion. They were eyes he might have witnessed long, long ago. Eyes brimming with warmth and expectation. The eyes of the woman he had yearned to marry for countless years…

Gazing straight into those two eyes, Meursault spoke.

“They remain nothing less than beautiful.”

When he snapped back to reality after speaking as though under a spell, Daphne wore the most radiant smile he had ever witnessed upon her face.

“I am overflowing with joy. Even if it is merely a fabrication—I am profoundly happy you said those words.”

“A fabrication…?”

Those words had slipped past his lips without conscious thought, as though they had been promised long ago—meaning they could never constitute a lie. Yet Daphne appeared convinced he had spoken solely for her comfort, causing Meursault’s brow to furrow slightly.

However, she had not finished.

“Meursault. There is actually a single matter for which I must offer an apology.”

“Something requiring an apology?”

A thousand distinct possibilities raced through Meursault’s mind in a fraction of a second.

Had she changed her stance regarding the divorce?

Or had she resolved against marrying him entirely? Was that the motivation behind her claims of not truly being Daphne?

Fortunately, the words that left her lips concerned an entirely different matter.

“I may be forced to depart for a distant location very soon.”

“Ah… are you planning a journey?”

She had just stated she was not originally from this domain. Perhaps, now that her marriage to Commander Hayden had dissolved, her intention was to visit an alternate zone.

“Should that be the case, I could accompany you…”

Daphne frowned gently, accompanied by a faint smile, and shook her head.

“I remain uncertain whether departure will truly be mandatory. Originally, had I married Hayden, no such journey would have been required… but by marrying you, Meursault, leaving might become unavoidable.”

If she married His Excellency, travel was unnecessary… yet marrying him meant she might have to depart?

The logic eluded him, yet the prevailing atmosphere did not encourage demanding detailed clarifications.

Daphne addressed the bewildered Meursault.

“Even so… despite that… I desire to be your wife before I leave. Is that acceptable?”

From beginning to end, the statements defied logical sense—yet ultimately, she was expressing a desire to become his spouse. That made his response effortless.

“It represents my ultimate wish, my black-eyed lady.”

Daphne clapped her hands together, beaming like a child, while Meursault felt content simply because her happiness was evident.

Until a voice echoed from the lobby below.

“Lady Daphne, the divorce documentation has arrived. Your signature is required.”

“Understood.”

Responding to the servant, Daphne drew a deep breath. Her eyes—somehow reverting to violet once more—focused entirely upon Meursault.

“Meursault. Even if I must depart, await my return. No matter what obstacles arise, I shall find my way back to your side.”

“Without a doubt. I possess the patience to wait far longer than His Excellency waited across those ten years.”

Hearing those words, Daphne offered a soft smile before descending the stairs.

Meursault accompanied her down. The final glimpse he caught of her was her retreating figure as she lifted a pen and executed her signature upon the divorce papers.

The very next instant, the moment her signature was finalized, Daphne collapsed right where she stood like a puppet whose control strings had been severed.

When Meursault concluded his recounting, he simply remained seated in silence, tears streaming steadily down his cheeks.

The Commander wore an expression lost in deep contemplation.

Not a single word escaped my lips.

The reason was clear, for I had deduced the identity of the entity possessing Daphne’s physical form.

Ignorance was no longer an option. In hindsight, the outcome felt predictable from the outset.

Corner Darling had initially encountered that otome game through his older sister. When he previously spoke of her, the overarching timeline had yet to be untangled, leading me to vaguely assume his sister remained unpossessed. After all, accounts indicated she had worked openly within Salvation Project long before any of us underwent possession.

The pieces finally clicked together.

My mother had perished inside this digital realm, returned to the physical world, established an enterprise named Salvation Project, and developed the Safety Zone series. Similarly, Daphne had returned to reality, abandoned her career as a physician, and joined Salvation Project.

The reality of differing temporal flows between this game and the real world was already known to me.

Naturally so. Each of us had claimed our vessels via convenience stores on separate days—yet every participant materialized at the exact same chronological starting point. Luna Moon had died a decade prior and returned to reality, meaning that considering my own age exceeding thirty, Mother must have made her return roughly thirty years ago in real-world time.

That realization also clarified why the Safety Zone appeared as it did ten years following Luna Moon’s demise. Daphne must have returned previously and reported those developments.

From that perspective, this fatal outcome was an inevitable destiny. Had Daphne never returned to reality to recount the events of ten years in the future, the very game we inhabited could not have materialized.

Nevertheless… a single lingering question persisted.

Why did Corner Darling possess another individual rather than Daphne herself?

Could both Daphne and my mother be inhabiting separate vessels somewhere and simply failed to locate them yet? Yet had those two been present here, they undoubtedly would have selected the Cola Area to facilitate encounters with Meursault and Hayden. Remaining concealed from my sight within this specific zone would have been impossible. Those two individuals were most certainly absent from this zone currently.

That loner’s persistent complaints regarding head pain and suggestions to simply halt the apocalypse finally made logical sense.

For the present moment, my own responsibilities demanded attention.

“Please ensure Daphne’s physical vessel is preserved to prevent decay.”

“Haydam.”

“Lord Haydam.”

The Commander fixed his gaze upon me with an expression resembling a reprimand, while Meursault stared in my direction with eyes brimming with anticipation and hope.

“Can she… be rescued?”

That outcome fell outside the realm of guaranteed certainties. My only thought was that preserving the physical form was prudent in case future possibilities arose.

“…For now. Merely maintain its preservation free from damage.”

“Understood! I shall attend to it immediately!”

Executing even this basic measure would provide Meursault with the necessary solace to continue existing.

As I watched him gently lift Daphne’s lifeless form and carry it away, the Commander addressed me in a subdued tone.

“Always keep in mind that you are not an omnipotent deity.”

My gaze shifted upward to meet his. He was watching me with an expression of genuine concern.

“If the issue stems from my instruction to preserve the body, then that particular—”

“Negative. That is not the core issue.”

It was not? I blinked in bewilderment, prompting the Commander to elaborate.

“Meursault is already aware that the deceased cannot return to life. Eventually, he will likewise recognize that your instructions were given purely to prevent his psychological collapse. Therefore, it is acceptable.”

Evidently, the Commander assumed my words did not stem from possessing an actual method to resurrect Daphne.

“Haydam…”

He exhaled a heavy sigh.

“As I have mentioned previously, you are merely a regressor. The burden of resolving every crisis does not rest solely on your shoulders.”

“…I grasp your meaning.”

Indeed. Those represented the exact words required at this very juncture.

It was time to seek out Darling Outsider.

The moment had finally arrived to discuss his sister… and my mother.