Choose Your Nickname Carefully

Meanwhile, in the officers' conference hall.

The officers' meeting, suspended after Lieutenant General Bartom's death, had finally resumed. Today's agenda was who would fill the empty seat left by the late lieutenant general.

Yet for all that it was called a meeting, the promotion had already been decided. Instead of making an issue of Bartom's death, the commander had already agreed to fill the vacancy with someone from the pro-Daphne faction.

For that reason the commander himself had declared he would not attend, and the officers of the pro-Hayden faction had yet to show their faces either.

While the pro-Daphne officers sat clustered together, chatting about how Bartom's son had been reassigned as a military policeman at the research institute, someone cautiously broached another subject.

"By the way… has everyone seen it?"

"Seen what?"

"That medium-class monster the boy brought in."

Anton, head of the pro-Daphne faction, gave the faintest frown, but the other officers seemed quite interested; they leaned forward and began speaking one after another.

"If you have eyes, you could hardly miss it. He dragged the thing in right under the commander's nose, plain as day."

"A child who's only ten, straining so hard for attention… I found it a little worrying."

"I knew His Excellency could be cold-blooded, but I never thought he would force even his own son into something so reckless."

At that, another officer scowled as if he disagreed.

"You think His Excellency ordered it?"

"Then are you saying a boy of only ten decided on his own to hunt a medium-class monster and gather children his age for a meal?"

"I agree it can't have been the boy's idea. Just like with Lieutenant General Bartom, His Excellency must be using the child to scheme something. You only have to look at how Major General Meursault trails after him."

Another officer clicked his tongue sharply.

"Ha. You people talk like that because you don't know what kind of man Meursault is. That bastard doesn't have the temperament to go chasing after some child's coattails just because the commander tells him to."

"I think the boy is no ordinary child either. When Bartom died he didn't so much as blink. That kind of composure isn't something anyone can teach."

Then Anton, who had kept silent the whole time, finally spoke.

"Whether it's the boy's idea or not, the fact remains that everything he does is keeping Lady Daphne in check. Even if he has no intention of checking her, it still becomes a threat to us."

The other officers all nodded at once.

"You're quite right."

"So what do we do? I'd like to speak with him, but Meursault is glued to the boy's side under the pretext of house arrest."

"Has Lady Daphne said anything?"

"I can't reach Lady Daphne either."

"What?!"

"She refused to meet the boy, saying she was unwell… is she truly ill?"

"That can't be!"

When the officers raised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their voices, Anton gestured for them to calm down and continued.

"It isn't that. If she were truly unwell, she would have come out even more aggressively. She's probably thinking. Thinking what to do about the boy."

"Ah…"

"So none of you are to move rashly. Leave that insolent Meursault alone, and leave Bartom's son alone as well."

"But even so, the matter of Lieutenant General Bartom…"

"Have you forgotten why we gathered today? We came to fill Bartom's seat. His Excellency himself proposed that we fill it with one of our people rather than one of his. Is there anyone here who doesn't understand what that means?"

"…"

The officers present had all climbed this far by surviving political fights. The commander had handed over the seat as if yielding, but the true meaning was no different from "take this and shut up." Raising the Bartom affair again would cost them even this seat—a kind of threat.

"So never speak of Lieutenant General Bartom again. Live as if such a man never existed. Keep your heads down for the time being. Do not rise to the boy's provocations. That is exactly what he wants."

"What the boy wants?"

"From what I can see, that child intends to join the subjugation campaign."

The officers stirred.

"The subjugation campaign?"

"Why else would he show off his hunting skill so loudly? To prove he is capable enough to go on the campaign."

"But why on earth would he want to join the subjugation?"

"The reason doesn't matter. If it is something the boy needs, all we have to do is keep him from going."

"I think it's premature as well. Not simply because we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must check him… he's far too young. The subjugation happens every year; no one would fault him for waiting until he's bigger."

"I don't know the reason either. Why he's so desperate. As if there's a deadline…"

Anton was still murmuring when the conference-hall doors opened and the pro-Hayden officers strolled in.

"What kind of plotting were you doing that you all shut your mouths the moment we arrived?"

A few officers bristled, but Anton stepped forward and answered calmly.

"We were speaking of Young Master Haydam. His hunting skill is quite impressive."

"Ah, that hippo-pig, you mean?"

At the mention of the hippo-pig the pro-Hayden officers slipped into easy conversation.

"Doesn't the way he acts look exactly like Luna Moon?"

"What are you talking about? Her marksmanship wasn't that good."

"No, I mean how he likes hippo-pig meat. I always found it too greasy, but she used to say she had to eat it at least once a week."

"Ah, that's right. It smelled wonderful. I miss it."

"I look forward to the day we go on a subjugation together with the boy. If His Excellency only permits it, there's so much we could teach him—"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Anton, who had been listening quietly, spat the words with open displeasure.

"Are you speaking in your right mind? To even think of sending such a young child to a subjugation…"

Once Anton opened the subject, the other officers—who had just been told they must prevent Haydam from joining the campaign—piled on.

"That's the problem. You keep saying he resembles Luna Moon and getting your hopes up. How pressured must that child have felt to leave the zone and hunt a monster himself?"

"The boy himself said he and his mother are separate people, yet you're treating the two of them as one and the same, aren't you?"

"This is why you war maniacs are hopeless!"

"What did you say? War maniacs? Do you even know whose blood lets you sit comfortably inside the zone and eat your fill?!"

Just as voices rose on both sides, a soldier burst through the conference-hall doors.

"Th-there's trouble…!"

The man was pale and gasping; he was one of Daphne's household soldiers. The pro-Daphne officers' faces hardened at once.

Something has happened to Daphne.

The pro-Hayden officers twisted one corner of their mouths, preparing to sneer—

but the next words that poured from the soldier's mouth made both sides cry out.

"Y-Young Master Haydam has climbed over the wall into Lady Daphne's residence!"

"What?!"

I hadn't planned to climb the wall from the start.

Getting the officers of both factions—who had been holing up in their dens—to come boiling out was simple enough.

You just had to touch someone you weren't supposed to touch.

In that sense, Daphne made an excellent target.

The pro-Daphne side would come running for fear I might mistreat her; the pro-Hayden side would come running for fear she might poison me.

All I had to do was sit back, sip tea at Daphne's expense, and wait for them to arrive.

The problem was that even after I went all the way to her residence, Daphne still refused to see me.

"Lady Daphne is still unwell. She asks that you please return."

She still has no intention of meeting me?

Daphne's claim of illness was clearly a lie. If she were truly sick, she would have taken some action—any action—to keep me in check while concealing her condition.

Why is she refusing to see me?

When Daphne first rejected my visit I had assumed it was because she still didn't know what kind of child I was. But since then I had shown her a great deal: the affair in the officers' hall, the medium-class monster hunt, gathering the children for a pork-belly party. If she had heard of all that, she should have been able to judge what sort of person I was. That was why I had come myself.

There's no way she still doesn't know what kind of person I am… she was never that stupid an NPC.

So why refuse to meet me?

She's hiding something.

Having reached the conclusion that Daphne was avoiding me in order to conceal something, I simply climbed over the wall of her residence.

"Kyaa! Y-Young Master, you mustn't…!"

Of course I hadn't done it in secret, so the servants of Daphne's mansion, who had been watching my sudden behavior with blank faces, panicked and tried to stop me.

"Young Master! This is Lady Daphne's residence! Please stop…!"

Yet none of them looked as if they dared lay a hand on me, so I walked straight into the mansion with complete confidence.

The reason I hadn't sneaked in was simple. Only if I made a ruckus would that woman Daphne come down herself to receive me.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And as if to prove my judgment correct, the moment I stepped into the lobby Daphne appeared at the top of the stairs.

Daphne… right?

For an instant I doubted whether she was the NPC I knew; a woman of dazzling beauty descended toward me without a single footfall, her steps soft and fluid.

The silver hair falling to her waist and the thick, pure-white fur draped over her shoulders do look like the NPC I know, though.

She was dozens of times more beautiful than anything I had seen in the game. The thought crossed my mind that the game graphics simply couldn't have captured that beauty and had been forced to nerf it. I even began to understand, to some degree, why Meursault was so obsessed with her. That Commander Hayden had chosen Luna Moon over a woman this beautiful inspired a kind of awe in me.

So the commander had truly loved Luna Moon.

"Is there something so urgent you must tell me that you would raise this much of a commotion?"

Only when Daphne finished descending the stairs and addressed me was I able to stop thinking about her appearance—and I realized that this was not a normal reaction.

This… could it be…

Seizing the moment of clarity, I swapped the title Luna Moon's Friend for Regard Gold as Dirt.

An unexpected message sprang up before my eyes.

Only then could I look at Daphne properly. Beauty aside, she did not look the least bit ill, so it was clear she had been deliberately avoiding me.

I gazed up at Daphne—no, at her—and then, as if possessed, opened her character information.

Ordinarily, when you open an NPC's character window something like this appears:

But the character window that floated before my eyes for Daphne was different from an NPC's—and different from ours as well.

A player from a different version!

…But why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is the nickname like that?