Chapter 21

Awakening

After the barbecue party, I began basic training with Taejeong.

Unlike Stay-at-home Wifey, who was starting with fundamental drills in the military, Taejeong was merely a servant at the mansion and probably wouldn’t have much time to train. That was why I had called him over to join me.

“…Why are you so good at this?”

Taejeong’s shooting skills were atrocious.

But when it came to using his body, he was no joke.

He was still trapped in a child’s body, but his fundamentals were beyond solid. They were almost… at the level of a professional athlete.

Taejeong gave me an embarrassed smile.

“I used to exercise a little before coming here….”

That was more than just “a little.”

“I’m more surprised by you, Hyungnim. Did you work out before you possessed this body?”

“As if. I was a full-time unemployed bum.”

The only reason my fundamentals looked so polished was because of the Titles I had inherited as a reward for clearing every region.

Of course, Titles did not directly raise my physical capabilities.

They could increase a specific NPC’s favorability or improve my proficiency, but I still had to train separately if I wanted to strengthen my body.

The Title I had used while hunting the medium-sized monster, Magic Bullet Shooter, did not increase my physical abilities either.

It was a Title obtained by striking a monster’s jewel—a target barely the size of a finger joint—with a single shot at least ten consecutive times.

When the Title was equipped, the first six bullets fired would never miss.

However, the seventh bullet would inevitably strike the person most precious to the player.

In other words, it was a cursed Title that manipulated the player’s “luck” rather than their physical ability.

In the game, however, “the person most precious to the player” simply referred to the NPC whose favorability had been raised the highest, so it was hardly a real disadvantage.

I had always raised the favorability of an NPC I didn’t need and then used them as a sacrifice for the Magic Bullet Shooter Title.

Plenty of comments had called it a strategy so vile that even Satan would recoil, but every bastard who posted those comments probably used it the same way I did.

‘But this isn’t a game anymore.’

If it still worked like the game and targeted the NPC with the highest favorability toward me, Commander Hayden was currently the most likely person to be hit by the seventh bullet.

But if other players were included, that changed things.

I wasn’t sure about Stay-at-home Wifey, but Taejeong held me in extremely high regard.

On the other hand, rather than someone whose favorability I had artificially raised, it might target the person I genuinely considered most precious.

In that case, the ones who would die were probably Commander Hayden or Meursault.

I felt a little sorry for Taejeong, but those two were currently more necessary to me than the other players.

The reason I had used the Magic Bullet Shooter Title despite the danger was to demonstrate my shooting ability to Meursault.

‘I fired three shots at the target and one at the hippo-pig, so I should have two left.’

The truth was, my basic shooting skills were not bad enough that I absolutely needed the Title.

After all, the Title could only be obtained by hitting a jewel embedded in a monster’s body ten times consecutively, and that jewel was only about the size of a finger joint.

Against a stationary target, I had only relied on the Title for the first shot. I landed the rest through my own skill.

Though they had asked me to try shooting at moving targets as well, so I had used around two more bullets after that.

The safest option would be to improve my physical capabilities, including my shooting skills, through personal training until I no longer needed the Magic Bullet Shooter Title.

But….

‘I’m curious who the seventh bullet will hit.’

I knew I shouldn’t kill someone just to test it, but being hit did not necessarily mean they would die.

It was hard not to want to try it.

‘Should I help Taejeong obtain the Magic Bullet Shooter Title and see whether his seventh bullet flies toward me?’

Even if it really did come at me, I knew how to avoid taking a fatal wound.

For now, however, I decided to set the issue aside.

The important point was that Titles alone could not compensate for physical ability, especially stamina.

I could use supplementary Titles such as SSS-Rank Trainee to make my physical abilities rise rapidly with only a little training, but that did not mean I could neglect the basics.

“To think you’re this skilled even though you were unemployed…. As expected, Hyungnim, you’re someone destined to succeed no matter what you do.”

…For some reason, Taejeong seemed to respect me even more than before.

After finishing our morning training, I spent the afternoon testing various foods in order to develop the players’ healing ability.

The results showed that meat was far more effective than cookies, while compressed foods such as canned meat or jerky were considerably more effective than ordinary meat.

‘Should I make something like the fasting pills from martial arts novels?’

It was fortunate that compressed food worked better.

I had an inventory, so I could carry large quantities of food as long as there was enough space, and food stored inside it did not seem to spoil.

However, Taejeong and Stay-at-home Wifey, who could not open their status windows, were limited in how much food they could carry.

There was also the issue of their provisions spoiling, though I had not yet confirmed whether spoiled food could still be used for healing.

The idea was disgusting, so I would make Stay-at-home Wifey test it during our next scheduled meal.

‘If even spoiled food can heal us….’

Just what would the system recognize as “food”?

I tried convincing myself that a pebble was food and brought it to my lips, but unlike actual food, it did not dissolve into blue particles.

That meant the system possessed a clear standard for determining what counted as food.

‘I’ll investigate that later. For now, I need to secure portable rations.’

Combat rations existed in this world.

However, they were only issued to soldiers, and since I had not officially enlisted yet, I had never seen this world’s combat rations in person.

The mansion staff were merely servants, not soldiers, and the Cola Region had a separate institution responsible for managing military rations. It would therefore be difficult to obtain any through the servants.

At times like this, I had to make use of the NPCs available to me.

Conveniently, I had Meursault, who was currently under disciplinary confinement.

“Meursault, do you happen to have any combat rations?”

Although he had been disciplined, the manpower shortage meant Meursault was still frantically working through piles of documents.

When I approached and asked him, he stared at me with an utterly dumbfounded expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Young Master, you are the first person who has ever come to extort combat rations from me.”

Ever since I had dragged him along on that hunt, the way he spoke to me had steadily grown rougher.

I needed to participate in a subjugation campaign, earn some achievements, and obtain a military rank as soon as possible. Then perhaps Meursault would speak to me more respectfully.

“Unfortunately, I don’t possess any combat rations.”

“Why? Because you’re not a combat soldier?”

“Partly because I rarely go onto the battlefield, but mostly because they taste terrible. I believe the last time I ate combat rations was when I was a private.”

After saying that, Meursault stared at me.

“I don’t know why the Young Master, who has as little reason to enter a battlefield as I do, has suddenly begun searching for combat rations, but….”

He appeared to think for a moment before nodding.

“There is something I need to check as well. Would you care to accompany me to the research institute?”

The research institute.

The official name of the facility Meursault was referring to was the Regional Security Research Institute.

It employed researchers who developed all forms of non-weapon military equipment, such as combat rations and combat uniforms.

I had merely wanted to test the effectiveness of combat rations, but it might not be a bad idea to visit the institute and see whether they possessed the technology to produce something resembling fasting pills for players.

Still, why was Meursault suddenly making such an offer?

“I had originally intended to go after my disciplinary confinement ended, but if I accompany the Young Master as your attendant, I should be able to handle the matter sooner.”

So he needed an excuse to visit the institute while he was still confined.

I did not know what Meursault’s “business” was, but the moment I encountered the military policeman at the checkpoint outside the institute, my body froze.

The expressionless military policeman saluted Meursault immediately.

However, a single stream of tears was running down from one of his eyes.

The sight of him crying itself did not surprise me very much.

I knew this NPC.

‘He’s the son of the late Lieutenant General Bartom.’

But I did not remember this NPC being stationed as military police at the research institute.

Had he been reassigned after Lieutenant General Bartom’s death?

“I’m sorry about what happened to your father.”

I thought Meursault had to be a genuine, deranged psychopath, but Bartom’s son replied calmly.

“It is all right. I apologize for showing you such an unsightly display. Your identities have been confirmed, so you may enter.”

I had always known that NPCs had families.

However, this was the first time I had killed an NPC and then come face-to-face with one of their family members as they cried.

And this was no longer a game.

This was a reality I had been transported into.

A long silence continued even after we passed the checkpoint and entered the institute.

Meursault was the first to speak.

“This may be none of my business, but….”

What was he about to say that required such a serious preface?

“If it brings you even the slightest peace of mind, Bartom abandoned that boy immediately after he was born.”

I stopped walking and turned back toward Meursault.

Meursault also stopped and continued speaking.

“Bartom was not yet a lieutenant general when that soldier was born. The boy was abandoned and raised as an orphan, and as far as I know, he only recently learned that Bartom was his father. Even so, it seems he cannot help but shed tears for him.”

Bartom had an abandoned son?

Had that setting always existed?

Well, I knew the names and positions of every NPC, but that did not mean I knew the entire history between them.

More surprising than the fact that the soldier was Bartom’s abandoned child was the fact that Meursault had gone out of his way to comfort me.

It was information that would not have mattered whether I knew it or not.

And yet this Daphne-obsessed lunatic had deliberately said something unnecessary just to ease my conscience.

“There is one fortunate aspect to this.”

“What is it?”

“I was ordered to eliminate him if he appeared to harbor even the slightest grudge against you, Young Master. I can sense nothing but resignation in that soldier’s expression, so fortunately, an innocent young man will not have to die.”

That was the business he needed to handle?

Executing potential insurgents?

…I had thought Commander Hayden was supposed to be some northern grand duke.

Am I actually playing the role of the child of a dictator from some northern country?