The Culprit Behind the Mass Possession

Mursault Pendleton was an orphan, just like every other child in the zone.

The military had begun accepting child soldiers in order to save even one more life. But at some point, children became beings who, upon birth, were abandoned, raised by those abandoned before them, entered the military when they came of age, and in turn raised the children abandoned later.

Thus, being an orphan in the zone was no great stigma. Nor did any child resent the fact that they were an orphan.

But Mursault harbored one wish that the other children did not. Though orphans had no surnames, Mursault alone had invented and attached the surname Pendleton to himself—precisely because of that wish.

The reason he created a surname was singular: the desire to have a family to whom he could pass on his name.

Of course, orphans formed families among themselves, but the family Mursault longed for was a little different. Not orphans, but a spouse who had grown up loved by grandparents ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and parents. To give the child born of them grandparents as well. And then to show an old photograph to the grandchild born next and say, "This person was your great-grandmother."

That was the ideal family Mursault dreamed of.

And in Mursault's estimation, there was only one woman in this zone who could fulfill his dream.

Daphne Goodman. The commander's daughter.

Her surname Goodman was one inherited through generations of her family. That alone made her an exceedingly ideal spouse.

Mursault devoted his entire life to the military in a frenzied rush to marry her. But when he came to his senses, the one standing at her side was a complete stranger he had never seen before.

Hayden, is it? At least among the orphans I know, there was no such name. Is he even from our zone?

When the commander married his daughter to Hayden, Mursault despaired. He no longer wished to take any other woman as his spouse. He wanted to retire and rest, but he could not. Although he had failed to marry Daphne, Mursault was regarded as the most capable talent currently in the military.

The one fortunate point was that this man Hayden was someone worth swearing loyalty to—separate from the Daphne issue.

Having become Hayden's adjutant, Mursault had to watch Hayden and Daphne's married life from the closest vantage point. At first he thought it a punishment. Soon, however, Mursault realized that opportunity still remained for him.

He noticed that Commander Hayden and Daphne Goodman did not love each other. They had merely married out of necessity.

Upon learning this, Mursault leaped for joy and committed the most insane act of his life. He confessed his feelings right in front of Commander Hayden.

"If Lady Daphne were happy, I too would have refrained from intervening. But Your Excellency does not love Lady Daphne. Lady Daphne does not love Your Excellency either! This marriage is void!"

Even when his adjutant suddenly barged into the office and committed this unexpected insubordination, Hayden did not take his eyes off the documents as he replied.

"I'd heard the rumors, but you really are mad. Though you do good work."

"Don't change the subject, Your Excellency. I have devoted myself to the military for far longer in order to marry Lady Daphne. Now that her father has passed, you must acknowledge my achievements."

"Look here, Mursault."

Only then did Commander Hayden lift his gaze from the papers and look at Mursault.

"Daphne doesn't love you either, but—"

The commander added in a flat tone, as if pointing out that someone's clothes were disheveled.

"You don't love Daphne either."

In that moment, Mursault felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He had always dreamed of marrying Daphne, so he had believed he loved her. Yet he found himself unable to refute Commander Hayden's point.

Had the conversation ended there, Mursault would have set aside his feelings and withdrawn, but Commander Hayden's words did not stop.

"But yes. You're not wrong that this marriage is void."

"Not wrong, you say?"

"Mursault. As you say, my woman isn't Daphne."

"Pardon?"

And the words that followed were the most insane thing Mursault had ever heard in his life.

"Someday my woman and my woman's child will come looking for me. Daphne knows that too."

"Lady Daphne knows as well? What on earth does that—"

"You'll have to pray that the child grows up safely and can inherit my position, Mursault. Only then will Daphne be free."

To marry the noblest woman in the zone, rise to the position of commander, and yet have a separate woman and child of his own. It was an absurd story, but knowing that Hayden was not a man who spoke carelessly, Mursault believed him and waited quietly. For at least two or three years.

When ten years passed with neither woman nor child nor anyone appearing, Mursault gave up waiting for them and began to entertain the idea of becoming commander himself and marrying Daphne.

But yesterday morning, as if by a lie, he heard the news that a child claiming to be the commander's son had arrived. A child of extremely polite, composed, and mature demeanor—Mursault had swelled with dreams, thinking this boy would inherit the commander's seat and he would soon marry the free Daphne.

But when, before a single day had passed, he heard that the child was a fake and that the real son had appeared again—Mursault sensed that things would not be resolved easily. Once a fake had appeared, there was no guarantee that the newly appeared son was not also a fake.

But... what is this...?

When he first saw him, he had clearly been an ordinary little boy. But at some point the boy's atmosphere suddenly changed. And the words that poured from the child's mouth afterward far exceeded any expectation.

"You. Do you still intend to marry Daphne Goodman?"

"......!"

As if pointing out disheveled clothes. A familiar intonation. The child added in the commander's characteristic indifferent manner of speech.

"But it seems you're still not certain whether you love Daphne?"

Mursault stared at the little boy before him with the face of one who had discovered some bizarre creature. It was absurd enough that the commander would have revealed his private shame to such a small child in the short span of a single night. Yet somehow it felt not as if he were speaking with a child he was meeting for the first time, but with Commander Hayden Goodman himself.

"Your... Excellency?"

Mursault blurted it out without thinking, then clamped his mouth shut in shock. To call someone other than the commander "Your Excellency."

Even after hearing the blasphemous slip of the tongue, the child merely smiled, as if lost in thought.

"That's right. His Excellency told me."

"Ah...."

Had he not noticed the mistake? Mursault somehow felt that the little one before him was trying to glide past his error like a sly old snake. But the child's words did not end there.

"But I... understand."

"You understand?"

That this little brat understood his immoral and inappropriate desire for the wife of the superior he served? Even Mursault knew that his feelings were not something to be proud of. Commander Hayden had not condemned him because Mursault's feelings for Daphne meant nothing to him—not because he understood them. And yet the little one before him was uttering the word "understand."

Just as he was about to find such a child laughable—

"Mister, you just want to make a family, don't you?"

The words that next poured from the child's mouth were enough to shake Mursault to his core.

"Not just any family, but a spouse who grew up loved by grandparents and parents. To give the child born between them grandparents as well. And then to show an old photograph to the grandchild born next and say, 'This person was your great-grandmother'—that kind of family."

Mursault's eyes widened.

"H-how do you know that...?"

When Mursault stammered the question, the child smiled bitterly.

"Well, I was an orphan too."

Mursault realized it as if struck by a thunderbolt. That only now had he met his true kindred spirit.

Did I overdo the kindred-spirit act?

Mursault, whose attitude had suddenly changed, begged forgiveness for his rudeness and told me that if I had any inconvenience while staying at the mansion, I should tell him anytime.

That would have been just the right amount, but that bastard Mursault vanished saying he would make a list of potential spouses so I could build an ideal household....

I'm only ten years old—what's this spouse nonsense?

Even when I played the game I thought what kind of NPC is this and poisoned him to death. His mental state is weird, but since he's the most capable guy in this zone after Commander Hayden, I have no choice but to keep him around.

Daphne Goodman's life is tragic too.

Forced into marriage by her father, the man she married has another woman and child, and some crazy guy clings to her wanting to marry her without even loving her. I felt a little sorry for having poisoned her to death several times in past playthroughs.

This time instead of poisoning her I'll keep her alive so she can use her abilities. It's definitely not because I'm short on NPCs I can exploit.

Just then, a system message floated up before my eyes.

Oh.

Apparently a player from another zone had obtained a meteorite item and unlocked the system. I had already expected that other players would start entering the chat room soon enough. It was almost day three—if even low-level zones like Candy or Beer hadn't produced a single system unlocker, that would have been a problem.

But the messages did not stop at one. They appeared one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after another.

What the hell? All at once?

Apparently more than one or two people had gotten their hands on a meteorite item last night. Well, if you still hadn't obtained one by day two of the strategy guide, you might as well have already failed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the run. Even so, they couldn't all have unlocked the system at the exact same moment... Had the system waited until morning before letting them into the chat room?

But then—

Among the final entry messages that floated up, a nickname far too familiar caught my eye.

This bastard!

The culprit behind the mass possession. Home Protector had entered.