A Veteran Player is Needed in the Apocalypse

Chapter 47: Confirmation

“An actual portrait of Luna Moon! What a splendid gift.”

“I had no idea Captain Anton was this thoughtful.”

What nonsense were they talking about?

“Did His Excellency not know either?”

“Indeed. I had no idea Anton was so concerned about Haydam…”

“It’s been nearly 10 years since we last saw Luna Moon’s face!”

What were they all going on about?

Why was this Luna Moon?

‘This is… my mother’s face.’

The voices of others chatting inside the conference room sounded muffled. Unconsciously, I stepped closer to the portrait, tracing the face of the woman who looked just like my mother.

It could just be a coincidence.

There must be some difference between this woman and my real mother.

But behind me, voices filled with sympathy rang out, interpreting my actions in their own way.

“Oh dear… perhaps we shouldn’t be here.”

“It might be best if we stepped out for a moment.”

“Your Excellency, should we pause the meeting?”

“…Yes, let’s adjourn. I will reschedule the meeting through Director Meursault later.”

They left the room quietly, as if not wanting to disturb me as I inspected the painting. Even Anton, who surely brought this painting to mock me, departed.

But no matter how closely I examined it, it was undoubtedly my mother’s face.

The woman in this portrait, who even had the same mole under her eye, looked exactly like my mother.

Luna Moon? The NPC in this so-called Safe Zone game?

The woman I was pretending to be the son of?

I suddenly realized that I hadn’t been breathing for a while. My head spun as I gasped for air all at once.

“Hahh…!”

‘Here, of all places.’

I never thought I would come face-to-face with my mother’s face in a place like this.

No.

I had hoped I would never see her face again.

Yet here I was, confronting her in the most unexpected place.

—

*Listen carefully, Dama.*

—

Her voice, the last I heard so long ago, flashed through my mind.

—

*You’re a smart kid, so you’ll be happy even without me. You can be happy.*

—

When I asked why I had to be happy without her, she had answered:

—

*Because if you’re unhappy, it will make me sad.*

—

When I asked her if she, a cold-hearted woman, even knew what sadness was, her reply was typical of her.

—

*Parents and children are programmed that way.*

—

Yeah… she had said something ridiculous like that.

I vaguely remember making some sort of promise during that conversation.

But promises made to a parent like that held no reason to be kept.

Right now, what mattered wasn’t some long-forgotten promise with my mother.

What mattered was the woman in the painting, the one with my mother’s face.

‘Why does Luna Moon have the same face as that woman?’

What were the odds that the game developers, while selecting a random East Asian woman’s face, just happened to use my mother’s as a reference?

However, since this face had never appeared in the game itself, the chances were higher that Luna Moon in this world and my mother just “happened” to share the same face.

Of course.

For a moment, the thought crossed my mind that my real mother and Luna Moon might actually be the same person.

Perhaps the woman who had lived as Luna Moon in this dating sim game was my mother.

But that couldn’t be.

It mustn’t be.

Because if it were true, that would mean my mother had died in this game world ten years ago, leaving behind only bones.

‘And I would be posing as her son without even knowing she was my real mother!’

Someone must have maliciously imposed her face on Luna Moon to make me suffer.

‘Yes, that must be it.’

There’s no way such an absurd thing could happen.

This isn’t my mother.

‘On the plus side, Anton won’t be doubting me anymore.’

Thanks to the fact that Luna Moon had my mother’s face.

Even though I knew Anton was preparing a portrait of Luna Moon, I had no idea what expression I should make when I actually saw it.

Though my acting skills were improving, I wasn’t talented enough to naturally portray the expression of a child seeing his mother again. If I had that level of acting ability, I’d be an actor, not a gaming addict.

But when faced with the real portrait of my mother, there was no need to act.

This must have convinced them even further that I truly was Luna Moon’s son.

Rationally speaking, this was a good thing for me.

Though from now on, I would have to call the woman in this portrait my mother, despite the unease gnawing at me.

‘…Even so, I need to confirm it.’

I couldn’t help but still be bothered by the face in the portrait.

I never imagined I’d need that guy’s help, but…

BangguseokYeoBo.

That guy played the dating sim, so he might know what Luna Moon’s face looked like in the game.

It would be strange to ask Daphne if this was really Luna Moon’s face.

But asking BangguseokYeoBo would be easy.

—

* * *

Meanwhile.

After the meeting was abruptly adjourned, the pro-Daphne faction officers gathered again, centering around Anton.

The pro-Hayden faction officers had taken Luna Moon’s portrait as a sign of reconciliation, smiling at the pro-Daphne faction officers as they left.

But the atmosphere among the pro-Daphne officers was grim.

“That reaction… it’s unmistakable, right?”

When someone carefully brought it up, the other officers nodded in agreement.

“It seems it was just a baseless rumor that Haydam was a fake.”

“Then why did the slum residents claim they didn’t know Haydam?”

“Was it a lie?”

“Maybe Luna Moon hid him. After all, if you hide a child’s name and hair color, they’d look no different from any other kid.”

“Then what about the claims that the grave was old?”

“The elderly might’ve been confused about something.”

“I trust Haydam’s expression while looking at the portrait far more than I do the testimonies of those old people.”

At that, the others fell silent. After all, when they had seen Haydam’s face while gazing at the portrait, they had felt a slight pang of guilt for even attempting to test a child with his mother’s portrait.

Haydam’s expression had changed that dramatically.

“So… does that mean…?”

That Haydam was, without a doubt, Luna Moon’s child. The child of the Commander.

Especially after seeing that expression, the Commander himself must have been even more convinced of his child’s identity.

“What’s the chance that it was all just acting?”

One officer, still clinging to hope, asked the question. Anton, with a crooked smile on his face, replied sarcastically.

“If it was all an act, then we’re no match for him anyway.”

“Hmm…”

The officers, all looking somewhat defeated, fell silent.

The idea of being unable to outwit a mere ten-year-old was a bitter pill to swallow.

But Anton’s words had a certain truth to them.

**Translation:**

Even if Haydam had known in advance that he would be gifted Luna Moon’s portrait at today’s executive meeting and had prepared for it, if he could have acted out that expression on the spot…

No matter what traps the pro-Daphne faction officers set, it would all be in vain.

While everyone in the room was thinking the same thing,

“But what’s this talk of retirement?”

General Max, an old academy colleague of Anton and one of the few close to him, asked the question that everyone had been avoiding.

“Are you really retiring?”

When Anton nodded briefly in affirmation, the officers began to murmur.

“No, this is so sudden…”

“I’m getting old.”

Anton glanced around at the other officers as he spoke.

“As I’ve aged, you’ve all held onto your positions for too long as well. Someone needs to step down so you can move up, don’t you think?”

The officers, though slightly rattled, tried hard not to show their unease, as they had indeed been thinking about their own promotions after Anton’s retirement.

Anton, fully aware of this, let out a faint sigh and continued.

“And… it’s not sudden. Ever since Lord Haydam appeared, I’ve been thinking that my experience can no longer overcome the energy of youth.”

This wasn’t just idle talk; it was genuine.

He had already been struggling to keep Meursault in check, who was rising rapidly.

And now, on top of that, the Commander’s venomous son, Haydam, had joined the fray.

From the moment General Batom was shot dead by Director Meursault in the conference hall, Anton’s retirement had been more or less decided.

In any case, it was clear that the military would no longer be run by him, but rather by Haydam and Meursault.

“Rather than living out my days in humiliation as a figurehead commander, I decided it would be better to step aside and watch from behind. I made this decision long ago.”

“But then why didn’t you give us a heads-up first…”

“If I had told you all beforehand that I was giving Lord Haydam a gift, wouldn’t you have just acted surprised anyway?”

If he hadn’t announced his retirement then and there, these fools would have stood by with smug expressions, thinking, *We’ve already discussed this among ourselves,* all the way up until the moment he pulled out the portrait.

The officers, realizing their blunder too late, now looked at Anton with anxious faces.

“What will we do without you, Captain Anton?”

“Now that I’ve stepped down, Josef will be following soon. Don’t worry. That side is just a bunch of useless idiots without him.”

“Will Captain Josef really step down quietly?”

“If he stays on as commander after I’ve retired, it’ll only paint a big target on his back for the next execution. Meursault needs to step up over there, too.”

“Ah…”

Anton briefly considered whether it was okay to leave these fools behind as he retired, but he quickly concluded that it wasn’t his concern.

There was something Anton hadn’t told the other officers, something he was counting on.

*‘My son, Plato, will become Lord Haydam’s adjutant anyway…’*

For now, it seemed to be a private agreement between Plato and Haydam.

This was why Anton had always been fixated on Haydam’s origins.

If Haydam turned out to be a fraud, he needed to snap his son out of this foolish loyalty.

But after seeing Haydam’s expression earlier, Anton felt both disappointed and reassured.

*‘The future commander is that boy.’*

His son had chosen the right side.

If Haydam’s lineage was that certain, and if his abilities were outstanding, then his son, as Haydam’s adjutant, would naturally find himself at the center of power.

Even Daphne had taken a liking to Haydam, so there was no need for Anton to make an enemy of him.

With these thoughts, Anton made his decision to retire.

Seeing Haydam effortlessly dodge the portrait trap was the final nail in the coffin for Anton’s defeat.

But Anton didn’t stand to lose anything.

With his son Plato positioned to become Haydam’s adjutant and Daphne potentially giving birth to a successor, Anton had his hands in all the right places.

Then someone spoke up.

“What about this?”

The officer who spoke was a new attendee to the executive meeting, having replaced the late General Batom.

He had only recently been promoted from director to general, making him the most ambitious among them.

Because he hadn’t personally witnessed General Batom’s murder, he was also the officer who most underestimated Haydam.

“Didn’t we only meet people in the slums who didn’t know Lord Haydam?”

“Yes, though their connections were different, that’s how it turned out.”

“Then how about we interrogate someone who might have known Lord Haydam during his time in the slums?”

Anton’s expression shifted slightly at those words.

“Is there someone who knows Lord Haydam from his time in the slums?”

“I’m not entirely sure how well he knows him, but there’s a boy soldier who’s been boasting that he was close to Lord Haydam.”

“Who is he?”

At Anton’s question, the officer handed over a prepared document.

At the top of the document was a photo of a handsome blonde boy with an awkward smile, whose beauty seemed almost wasted on a soldier.

“His name is Darling Outsider.”

Anton quietly stared at the photo.

Though he had already decided to step back…

One last confirmation wouldn’t hurt.

If this boy really knew Haydam, he might hear something unexpected.

“Bring him in. Treat him well. Don’t rough him up.”