Luna Moon's Secret
Before the Commander returned, the servants confirmed we had finished every last cookie, then escorted us to our bedrooms.
Whether it counted as luck or not, the Commander seemed to have no intention of throwing TaejeongTaese out of the residence; he assigned the boy a room of his own as well. The tattered adult military uniform TaejeongTaese had been wearing when he was possessed was discarded, replaced by a coarse but clean set of pajamas.
Once I was certain the servants had left the room, I opened the system and examined it more carefully.
Inventory first…
Inside the inventory sat only two items: Luna Moon’s ring and Luna Moon’s dog tags. Even though the Commander had seized the tags from Safety No. 8, they still resided in my inventory. Ownership apparently prioritized the player. I tested it with the ring I currently wore. Anything I owned could be stored in the inventory window and retrieved through it whenever needed, even if I wasn’t physically carrying the object. The dog tags could probably be pulled out the same way if I wanted, but I left them alone; I had no desire to invite the Commander’s suspicion.
Next I checked the still-locked chat window. Chatting, of course, required someone to talk to.
Maybe the chat unlocks once another player opens their system.
If that happened and I could speak with other players, I would finally be able to confirm whether meteor items were truly the condition for unlocking the system. I scoured every corner of the interface, but for now the only useful features were Character Inspection, Inventory, and Titles.
There was also a “Zone Development” system among the unlocked menus.
Pointless. Once the Second Apocalypse hits, zones stop mattering.
The Beer Zone people who had lived deep underwater in their giant submarine “Ark,” and the Unicorn Zone people who had raised a floating island into the sky, had both been forced back onto solid ground for the same reason: the Second Apocalypse. Like the First, it began with meteors raining from the heavens—only these meteors birthed flying monsters and aquatic monsters. Zones that had fled to the sea or the sky because only ground monsters existed suddenly had to crawl back onto land. From that moment on, it was war. Beer and Unicorn needed territory of their own, so they started raiding the Safe Zones. The other zones, completely unprepared for aerial or underwater combat, fell into chaos.
Every zone player was left with two choices: ignore zone development entirely and pour everything into personal stats, or refuse to abandon the zone and convert it into a proper shelter. Zones with decent land and resources usually built shelters. Low-foundation zones like Cola, however, became easy targets the moment they tried. Even if I poured effort into making a shelter here, some other zone would simply snatch it away.
That was exactly why my original home base had been Unicorn. The chance of anyone stealing a Unicorn shelter was vanishingly small—because no other player could fly. How did I fly? I tamed flying monsters. How did I tame them? There are ways. Other players just claimed it was too hard.
If someone who landed in Unicorn was following my strategy guide, that zone was a gold mine. They would develop it for shelter conversion and prepare in advance for flying-monster raids. Why was Unicorn’s starting difficulty so high when monster attacks didn’t even begin until the Second Apocalypse? Because for the next ten years the zone faced almost zero monster threat, so they focused on development until food was self-sufficient, science advanced enough for high-level medicine, and weapons remained excellent even without combat. The problem was that the residents were a little insane—a mad-scientist zone. You only had to look at how they floated their entire district into the sky to escape the apocalypse to get the picture. NPCs smarter than the players themselves filled the place; anyone judged even slightly less intelligent was immediately turned into a public-service test subject. Zone difficulty scaled directly with how much of a bastard the residents were.
Anyway, I need to decide on the second reward before the Commander comes back…
The only things I could reasonably demand right now were letting TaejeongTaese stay in the residence permanently, or summoning the Shut-in Darling I had enlisted yesterday. Using a reward just to keep two players at my side felt wasteful. Shut-in Darling had only enlisted the day before and knew nothing yet. Still, if I wanted to discuss zone strategy with them, I would need regular meetings.
Calling just those two out specifically would draw too much attention…
A knock sounded at the bedroom door.
“It’s me.”
The Commander’s voice—heavier with fatigue than it had been that afternoon.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, please.”
Only after receiving permission did the Commander open the door and step inside. In one hand he carried something that looked like a first-aid kit.
Ah. Don’t tell me…
“Give me your hand.”
He had come to treat the wound on my finger. When he had handed over the ring earlier he must have noticed the damaged tip and carried the worry all the way here with a medical kit. Admirable, except—
The wound already healed.
How would he take that? The moment had been brief; maybe he would decide he had simply mis-seen it. Either way I couldn’t keep hiding my hands, so I quietly extended both.
“……!”
The Commander stared at my completely unscarred fingers and flinched. His voice trembled when he spoke.
“This healing ability… so you truly are Luna Moon’s child.”
Huh?
What did that mean? The fact that my healed finger made him certain I was Luna Moon’s child could only mean—
Luna Moon had possessed the same kind of healing ability?
There shouldn’t be an NPC with a power like that…
I wanted to ask exactly what kind of healing she had, but doing so would make me look suspicious at once. It would be strange for her own child not to know an ability the Commander himself was aware of. Whether I was confused or not, the Commander now seemed fully convinced I was his son. The cold steel of his face softened; for a fleeting second he almost looked overwhelmed.
“Haydam. Why I loved Luna Moon yet married another woman… why, even with the high rank of Commander, I still failed to protect you and her… there are so many things a child your age cannot yet understand. When you grow old enough to comprehend my words, I will tell you everything I know. When that day comes, I ask that you also tell me everything you know. Will you do that for me?”
Everything he knew? I didn’t particularly care about the love story between the Commander and Luna Moon, but learning how the lunar-stone ring that held the secrets of the apocalypse had become a token between them would be useful. And I still needed to know what healing power Luna Moon had actually possessed.
Could Luna Moon have been…?
No—assuming she too had been a player was pure overreach. The Commander was waiting for an answer, so I slowly nodded. He smiled faintly and gave my shoulder a light pat.
“You must be tired. Sleep.”
“Um…”
“Hmm?”
“There’s one favor I’d like to ask.”
The moment the words left my mouth, the Three Rewards counter appeared before my eyes.
“What favor?”
He looked ready to grant anything. My second reward from the Commander was this:
“I’d like you to arrange a monthly meal with children my own age.”
“…A meal with other children?”
The idea had come the instant he mentioned Luna Moon’s healing ability. In this zone, anyone capable of “healing”—that is, of absorbing food the way players did—had to be a player. Holding shared meals would let me separate NPCs from players. New players still unused to the player-style meal would look awkward without fail. The only remaining players in the zone might be me, Shut-in Darling, and TaejeongTaeseBeyonce, but confirming that fact couldn’t hurt. Dining with children my age would also leave a good impression on the zone’s residents, make casual conversation with TaejeongTaese or Shut-in Darling feel natural, and—most importantly—let me earn the trust of the very generation that would be active during the Second Apocalypse ten years from now.
The Commander looked mildly puzzled by the request.
“Why ask for something like that?”
“I was lucky enough to receive good clothes and good meals, but there are still hungry children outside. I want to share even a little with them.”
“Hmm…”
He hesitated, searching for an answer. Of course he did. He had expected some childish wish; gathering children every month for a meal was pure politics. Still, it was nothing he couldn’t grant. Time to poke the guilt.
I fidgeted with my fingers as though gauging his mood.
“If arranging the meals would cost too much money… I’ll only eat one meal a day.”
“What?”
His voice rose sharper than I had ever heard it. I pressed on.
“I starved a lot outside, so one meal is enough for me. I don’t need expensive cookies like earlier either. Is it really not possible…?”
“…No. That much is no trouble. It will be difficult this month, but I’ll arrange the first gathering at the beginning of next month.”
His complexion looked worse than a moment ago, yet the reward counter advanced, proving the answer was genuine.
Progress: 2 / 3
One left.
To keep a good relationship with the Commander I still needed to offer a carrot. I grabbed his sleeve with a bright, grateful expression and cried out,
“Thank you, Dad!”
He startled and stared at me.
“Dad… you said?”
“Oh—should I have called you Your Excellency?”
“Ahem… No. Call me whatever you like.”
This bastard was clearly pleased and pretending not to be. I had played the role of his son more than once, after all.
He insisted I truly needed sleep, laid me on the bed, and pulled the blanket up.
“Sleep well.”
“Good night, Dad.”
He left the room with oddly creaking movements. Every gesture toward a child looked awkward on him, yet the care he felt for Luna Moon’s son came through clearly.
I did promise Luna Moon I’d treat Hayden Goodman like my real father…
Thinking of him as a real father might be impossible, but keeping him alive through the Second Apocalypse was doable. After all, he needed to survive and take charge of my shelter.
Still…
Why had that convenience store possessed so many players in the first place? Lying down, Safety No. 8’s final moments suddenly flashed before my eyes. He hadn’t suffered some catastrophic failure—he had simply failed to be recognized as an illegitimate son. He was a player who could still have stopped the apocalypse through any number of other routes. And yet the system erased anyone who failed a route without mercy. So why bother possessing multiple players at all?
If the special privilege is only for me, the full-zone clearer, then what are the other players even for…?
That was when a new system message bloomed in front of my eyes.
Two or more players have opened the system. Chat has been activated.
Enter the public chat room?
1:1 private chat is available only between mutual friends.
Oh…
Another player had unlocked their system. Chat really did require at least two people.
I have to check whether a meteor item is the real unlock condition.
I pressed the Enter button. Two messages appeared in succession.
⊳ ‘Dopamine Addict’ has entered the public chat room.
⊳ ‘T-balnom’ has entered the public chat room.
“……!!”
I shot upright in bed.