Provocation
The commander's answer came only after a long silence.
"You… what did you just say?"
He spoke as if he couldn't trust his own ears.
I repeated myself, enunciating every syllable with deliberate clarity.
"A regressor."
"A regressor… meaning……"
"Exactly what it sounds like. From the future back to the past. I returned."
"……."
The commander's mouth opened, then closed again.
"…What a strange thing to say. Luna Moon used to pull jokes like that all the time."
Hmm. His reaction was blander than I'd expected.
I'd thought that, knowing Luna Moon had been a player, he might take this with a little more openness.
"It's not a joke."
"Enough with the nonsense. You, a regressor?"
"Is this how you reacted when she confessed that my mother was a player, too?"
"……!"
At those words, the commander looked as if he'd been struck by a hammer.
Technically, claiming to be a regressor was a lie, so dragging a dead woman into it felt a little… not particularly sorry, actually.
Besides, the whole act of playing a little kid had already started to wear on me.
If I sold the regressor performance properly, I could finally shed the "just a child" treatment and dodge admission to the military academy at the same time.
None of this was only for my sake.
It was to prepare for the apocalypse.
"Haven't you found anything strange? That I'm far too mature, that I know far too much about the military?"
"Just because you're more mature than other children, you expect me to believe you're a regressor?"
"At the officers' meeting, I knew everyone's names."
Sensing he wanted proof, I laid out whatever sounded plausible.
"Father, do you really think that simply hearing stories from Mother would let me know all of them in that much detail? That a boy from the slums who had never once held a firearm could handle one so skillfully and shoot so well, simply because I was a clever child? That the day I climbed over Daphne's wall and went looking for her was nothing more than a sudden impulse?"
"……."
The commander still couldn't bring himself to believe me outright.
But the words that came out of his mouth next weren't doubt—they were a question of motive.
"Why reveal that you're a regressor only now?"
"Because you don't know."
"Don't know what?"
"That we don't have time."
I watched his head tip slightly to one side, then continued.
"In ten years, another apocalypse will begin."
"What?"
Even the commander looked thoroughly shaken by that.
"We called it the Second Apocalypse."
"Another apocalypse in the future… I almost wish it were a lie."
"I wish it wouldn't happen either. But in the future where we failed to prepare for it, I died."
At the mention of my death, the commander's eyes widened for a moment before settling again.
"When I opened my eyes, I was back in my ten-year-old body. If this was a second chance given to me… then this time I had to prepare for the apocalypse in advance. That's why I want to go on the subjugation campaign. That's why I'm so particular about combat rations."
"……."
After another long silence, the commander finally answered.
"It's as hard to believe as the day I learned Luna Moon was a player."
"I understand. But I had no choice but to tell you. If things continue like this, we won't have enough time to prepare for the apocalypse."
I decided then and there to clear up every last detail that might make him suspicious.
"The reason I'm only saying this now… is because, through this regression, I learned that my mother was a player—and that you already knew. If Father, who already understands Mother was someone special, would take my story seriously…"
"So the future you never knew Luna Moon was a player?"
"No. But I had a vague sense that Mother wasn't ordinary, which is why, after returning this time, I went to Daphne to learn more about her……. That's also why I wasn't particularly shocked to learn she was a player. I'm a regressor—would my mother being a player really be that surprising?"
My carefully twisted logic left the commander looking faintly dazed.
"If you truly came from the future… then prophesy something that is going to happen."
Hmm. So that much evidence still wasn't enough.
As the commander of an entire zone, it was only right that he be careful about whom he trusted.
Unfortunately, I had no convenient prophecies to hand him.
"That would be difficult."
"Difficult?"
"Because my regression has already changed the future quite a bit. Originally, I never would have sought you out this early."
At that, the commander looked as if he could at least accept why I couldn't speak of future events.
Good. In that case……
"I can't prophesy what will happen in the future. But if Father wants more solid proof—"
In truth, telling him about the future the way he wanted wasn't impossible either.
Possession had altered a few events, yes, but I was still a veteran player who had cleared this world multiple times.
I had no intention of playing a half-baked prophet, though.
If you're a veteran, you prove you came from the future with skill. Obviously.
"Please allow me to challenge the military academy's training simulation."
The commander jerked in surprise and stared at me as if I were something from another world.
"…Knowing about the academy's training simulation makes me wonder whether you really might be a regressor."
"Well, I already graduated from that school in the future. I can confidently say I'm superior to any student currently enrolled there. If I pass the training with better results than anyone else, you'll have no choice but to believe me."
"……."
The commander looked conflicted for a moment, then gave a small nod.
"I permit you to challenge the training simulation."
I didn't bother hiding the upward curl of my lips.
Once I proved myself through the training, he'd never again be able to tell me to enroll in the academy.
Slaughtering newbies wasn't usually a veteran's job, but this time I had no choice.
Platon, eldest son of Anton of the pro-Daphne faction, was an outstanding cadet on the verge of graduating at the top of his class from the military academy.
Though his father led the pro-Daphne faction, Anton had raised him under a scrupulously fair education meant to make him a commander respected by every faction. Platon himself never took sides, and he never once leveraged his father's name to solve a problem—so he was widely respected among his peers.
But Platon had become so free of ideological entanglement that even Anton found him stifling: a sharp-edged stone who never hesitated to speak his mind.
To the junior cadets, Platon—with his excellent written and practical scores—looked like a splendid senior who held to his convictions. To classmates and instructors who understood how vital absolute obedience was to a soldier, he was nothing more and nothing less than a stubborn fool who happened to get good grades.
Even so, his status as the prospective top graduate was not entirely free of his father Anton's influence.
In any case, that same stubborn streak showed itself without fail when he was ordered to participate in a training simulation alongside the commander's son, Heydam Goodman.
"I refuse."
"Platon!"
In one corner of the principal's office where Platon had been summoned, Heydam Goodman himself stood watching him, so the principal cried out his name in shock. Platon did not yield.
"Even if it is only a simulation, I cannot inflict harm on a young child who has not even enrolled yet. You know as well as I do that injuries can still occur in a simulation."
"The commander himself has given his permission."
"He has?"
The training simulation of the Cola Area Military Academy was a mock battle.
Participating cadets were split into Team A and Team B, starting from their respective bases. The first team to plant its flag in the enemy base—or to "kill" every member of the opposing team—won. Simple rules.
It was fought without lethal weapons, using training military swords and paint guns, but when collisions grew fierce, real fists sometimes flew, and cadets occasionally walked away injured.
And the commander had allowed his own ten-year-old son to take part in such a drill.
Don't tell me… he wants me to throw the match?
That guess seemed correct. The principal's next words fell squarely within the expected range.
"And training can be conducted with a little flexibility, can it not?"
Just as I thought.
Platon shook his head at once.
"In other words, you want me to go easy on him. He may still be a child who hasn't even enrolled, but he will one day be a warrior of this zone—a future cadet. I will not subject him to that humiliation. How ashamed would he feel if he learned his first training simulation was a victory handed to him by an opponent who held back?"
"P-Platon! Please watch your tongue……!"
"I don't mind."
The principal glanced nervously at Heydam Goodman standing right beside them, but Heydam himself showed not the slightest sign of offense after hearing everything.
Platon quietly studied the glossy black hair and the dark eyes glittering with an ominous curiosity.
So this is the illegitimate child from the rumors.
The angel-faced psychopath who, from their very first meeting, had smiled while threatening Platon's own father, Anton.
A child who had once climbed the wall into Daphne's residence on a bizarre whim, yet who had also gone outside the zone alone to hunt a hippo-boar and shared the meat with children his own age—an unreadable little creature.
I already suspected he wasn't an ordinary child.
That was why, when he heard Heydam would visit the academy on a tour, and even when he heard the boy meant to challenge the training simulation, Platon had felt no real resistance.
He had thought that child would be fine.
Being ordered to face the boy in the simulation himself, however, had never entered his calculations.
"Why me of all people? There must be any number of cadets better suited to Heydam's level."
"Please choose your words more carefully, and as for that……"
"I asked for him."
Heydam's young voice cut in.
He looked straight up at Platon and spoke.
"I wanted to see the academy's finest cadet with my own eyes."
"…Thank you."
For some reason, Platon could not shake the feeling that Heydam's bearing was nothing like that of a mere visitor on a tour.
It's almost like a company commander stopping by to offer encouragement……
Still.
If Heydam had chosen to join the training with him because he wanted to see the best cadet, then Platon decided to take a step back.
Setting your sights on someone superior and challenging them was, after all, an excellent quality in a warrior.
But even so, I still don't want to face a little child……
Platon offered a reasonable compromise.
"Please assign me to Heydam's team. That should roughly balance things out."
Heydam's eyes flew wide, and he waved both hands in refusal.
"Platon on my team? There's no need for that! If an outstanding cadet like you joins my side……"
So he knows what shame is, even if he did make an unreasonable request for someone of his level.
Platon had naturally assumed Heydam was refusing because he thought it would be underhanded to pass the training with Platon's help.
The words that followed completely overturned that expectation.
"—then I won't be able to prove that I'm better than every single cadet in the academy, will I?"
It was not a remark that could simply be let pass. Platon's brow furrowed before he could stop himself.
"What did you just say?"
"Ah, I forgot to mention this part."
Even the principal was staring at Heydam in open horror as the boy continued in a cheerful tone.
"Father only allowed me to challenge the training simulation because if I prove I'm superior to anyone at the academy, I don't have to enroll. Honestly, I think entering the military academy would be a waste of time."
That was the moment Platon resolved, with absolute certainty, that he would give this ten-year-old child everything he had—and crush him.