Chapter 22

The Doomsday Theorist

He might be a loving father to me, but Commander Hayden was undeniably a dictator who ruled this region through military force.

Not that I had any right to complain, since I had attempted the illegitimate-child route precisely to take advantage of his authority.

Still, it would become a problem if the Commander kept killing my slaves—

No, my valuable personnel.

‘The Commander doesn’t know the Second Apocalypse is coming, so he probably has no idea how precious manpower will become.’

I needed to come up with a solution before the Commander killed all my valuable recruits.

In any case, I had come to the research institute to inspect the combat rations.

For now, we should meet the director.

“You asked for me?”

The elderly director appeared before us, striding on long legs with his completely white hair slicked straight back.

Perhaps due to severe stress, his complexion was poor, but his large build prevented him from appearing frail.

‘This is my first time seeing this NPC up close.’

He was a typical background NPC with no particular story or ambition, which meant there was no need to be wary of him.

Although he had interacted with Meursault, who managed supplies, I had never personally visited the research institute.

After all, I had never considered developing anything like fasting pills while playing the game.

“This is unusual. I never expected Director Meursault to visit us personally.”

Perhaps because he was an NPC without any hidden schemes, that seemed to be the extent of his reaction to our sudden arrival.

“It is nothing serious. Could you show the Young Master your combat rations?”

“The Young Master?”

The director looked at me before his expression brightened in realization.

“So this is the Young Master everyone has been talking about.”

“Yes. The Young Master is curious about combat rations.”

“He is… curious about combat rations? The Young Master is?”

The moment he heard that, the director became tremendously excited and began rambling about the importance of food supplies.

“Are we finally going to have a commander who understands the importance of military provisions? Our institute possesses highly advanced freeze-drying technology, but research into combat rations has always stagnated. It was constantly treated as a low priority, simply because they were supposedly useless outside subjugation campaigns!”

Oh?

It seemed Hayden, his predecessor, and even the commander before that had only cared about weapons and combat uniforms while showing no interest whatsoever in combat rations.

That was actually fortunate.

If combat rations had failed to develop because of a lack of interest rather than a lack of technology, then all I needed to do was pay them a little attention.

Their combat-ration technology could improve dramatically.

And then the director said something that caught my interest even more.

“It has not even been a hundred years since we suffered food shortages in the immediate aftermath of the Apocalypse…. We never know when we may face another disaster like it. We must prepare ourselves!”

“Prepare for the Apocalypse?”

When I reacted to his words, Meursault leaned close and whispered into my ear.

“Old people who lived through the aftermath of the Apocalypse occasionally speak like that. They insist the Apocalypse will come again…. They are the last remaining doomsday theorists of this era. His constant desire to prepare in advance is what allowed him to rise to the position of director of the Regional Security Research Institute, though.”

I see.

So the trauma of the Apocalypse had convinced him that it would eventually happen again?

The Second Apocalypse really was coming, but people did not like hearing pessimistic predictions.

Had I gone around claiming that a Second Apocalypse was imminent, I would undoubtedly have been treated as a delusional lunatic, just like this director.

Then there was only one thing for me to do.

I would pretend to sympathize with this PTSD-stricken old man and encourage him to create the ultimate fasting pill—

No, the ultimate combat ration.

“I don’t believe you’re wrong, Director.”

“Young Master?”

Meursault looked at me with deep suspicion.

He probably knew perfectly well that I was not the kind of innocent child who respected his elders.

But I had not said it for Meursault’s benefit, so it did not matter.

Perhaps no one had ever agreed with him before, because the director stared at me in astonishment and began to stammer.

“You… you truly believe I’m not wrong?”

“Until recently, I lived in the slums.”

I felt as though I had used this slum story far too many times, but it worked incredibly well.

The fact that I had the body of a ten-year-old child seemed to double its effectiveness.

“Food shortages… are not some distant story to me. So if preparing in advance, as you say, means no one will have to starve in the future… then I support you, Director.”

“Young Master….”

The director looked at me with a mixture of pity and admiration.

“Ah, this is no time for this. You said you came because you were curious about our combat rations, correct? I will have them prepared immediately!”

Thanks to the director’s newfound cooperation, we did not have to wait long before something resembling hard jerky was neatly arranged on a metal tray before us.

Combat rations in this world resembled palm-sized hardtack biscuits, but they were made from monster meat rather than flour and were therefore far harder than ordinary hardtack.

“This combat ration is called dried meat. Would you care to try it?”

I wanted to injure myself first so I could test its healing effectiveness, but even if I could have done so in front of Meursault, I could not self-harm while the director was watching.

I obediently brought the dried meat to my mouth.

It transformed into blue particles near my lips and was absorbed into my body, so I could not actually taste it.

However, any player from the Safe Zone would know exactly how this dried meat was described.

I repeated the game script that always appeared whenever it was consumed.

“This tastes absolutely disgusting. Like military boots that haven’t been washed in years.”

Both Meursault and the director looked startled.

“Why are you both so surprised?”

When I asked, the two glanced at one another as though each were waiting for the other to answer.

Eventually, Meursault let out a small sigh and explained.

“That is… something only a veteran soldier who has been dragged through countless battlefields would say. You may not know this, but military boots are also made from monster hide, so soldiers sometimes eat their boots if they run out of food during a subjugation campaign. Both the director and I were surprised because you spoke like an experienced soldier despite never having been on a battlefield.”

After finishing his explanation, Meursault looked at me with an expression of profound pity.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I was wondering whether you had eaten military boots while you were living outside.”

As if I would have.

“You must have starved terribly before entering the mansion. I suppose that is also why you show such an intense interest in food.”

I had asked for meals with children my age and had even gone hunting for the sake of eating.

Now I had suddenly asked about combat rations.

It was understandable that he would reach that conclusion.

This was convenient.

Instead of questioning why I had suddenly become interested in combat rations, he had misunderstood everything on his own.

Then perhaps I should continue with this persona.

“I heard that half the children who attended the last party will eventually participate in subjugation campaigns. I don’t want any of them to go hungry on the battlefield.”

“You need not worry about that. No matter what happens, we would never allow children to starve on the battlefield.”

“Yes, Young Master! Please do not worry. Before the next subjugation campaign, I will develop combat rations that every child can enjoy!”

“Really? I know I can trust you, Director. I’d also like them to be smaller and lighter than they are now. Children cannot carry heavy loads.”

“Smaller… and lighter?”

“Ah… would that be too difficult…?”

“Not at all! Leave everything to me!”

I gave the boastful director a satisfied smile, bringing our visit to an end.

I was in a good mood after acquiring a useful slave.

As I smiled to myself inside the vehicle returning to the Commander’s residence, Meursault slowly began to speak.

“I had wondered why you specifically invited the child soldier Darling Outsider into your room….”

I looked at him when Stay-at-home Wifey’s username came out of his mouth.

Meursault stared directly at me and asked,

“Did you question him about military life? Are you perhaps worried that the children might be abused? Is that why you arranged to dine with them every month, so that you could regularly inspect their condition?”

‘So Meursault knows I called Stay-at-home Wifey aside after the meal.’

I had deliberately summoned him without informing Meursault because I wanted to know who received reports about my daily activities and how detailed those reports were.

Meursault did not even attempt to conceal the fact that he possessed information I had never given him.

Well… just as I had planted Taejeong among the mansion staff, Meursault and the other officers had probably planted spies of their own.

When I continued staring at him without responding, Meursault let out a quiet sigh.

“So when you called them ‘people who will someday become my soldiers,’ you were not merely saying it for effect.”

“You thought I was joking until now?”

“You are still only ten years old.”

Now that I thought about it, there were many things I could obtain precisely because I possessed the body of a ten-year-old.

But there were undoubtedly many things I could never obtain because of it as well.

If no one took my words seriously, how could I persuade everyone to prepare for the Second Apocalypse within the next ten years?

As though offering comfort to my concerns, Meursault continued.

“I have always believed that every human being other than Lady Daphne was an imbecile, but….”

…Does that category include the Commander too, you bastard?

“I believe having you as my superior might not be so bad.”

After saying that, Meursault turned his gaze toward the window.

I did not speak to him again.

‘Come to think of it, none of the other officers have reacted yet.’

I had deliberately made a spectacle of killing that medium-sized monster in order to draw attention.

Yet surprisingly, no one had approached me, whether they supported the Commander or Lady Daphne.

Of course, that might have been because Meursault was watching me so closely.

No one would have the courage to approach while Meursault, one of the Commander’s closest aides, kept such a vigilant eye on me.

But after personally meeting Bartom’s son, I realized something.

I needed to learn what the officers thought of me.

Only then could I decide which ones to recruit and which ones to cut away.

The problem was that they all seemed to have made an agreement to pretend they had no interest in me.

It was probably because of Meursault.

‘Well… I suppose I wouldn’t want to attract the attention of a lunatic who put a bullet through his superior’s forehead either.’

It could not be helped.

If they refused to come to me—

Then I would simply have to invade their territory first.