Beep-beep, tick.
From across the sea, in the New Continent, Queen Charlotte’s reply began to arrive.
[My dear Sydney. The colonel’s conditions are certainly extraordinary and insolent.]
[However, we must accept all of them.]
“……!”
Click. Along with the mechanical sound, Sydney’s eyes flew wide open. Her field of vision was trembling faintly.
Beep-beep, tick.
[Think rationally. Right now, we have neither the military strength to retake the capital nor territory to call our own. What use is an intact Intelligence Bureau when our homeland itself has vanished?]
[If anything, Colonel Jaeger’s greed may be easier to handle precisely because its limits are clear. He is not a man who covets ideology or the throne. He only desires money, power, and his own safety.]
[If he wants the Intelligence Bureau, give it to him. Better yet, seat him as “co-director” and make him sink his feet deep into our muddy struggle.]
A small groan slipped from Sydney’s lips.
[Keep this in mind, Sydney. This is not eternal submission. For now, it is time to hold our breath beneath the colonel’s shadow and build our strength. The moment we plant our flag in Londinium, everything will once again fall under our control.]
[For the sake of that process, I must ask you to endure a little more hardship. I am sorry.]
The telegraph stopped completely. Sydney stood frozen, holding the long strip of paper tape in both hands.
“……Haa.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. Through [Shared Vision], the body transmitted to me was trembling faintly.
She was crying.
For her homeland, for her queen. She had to offer her own leash to the Imperial Army colonel she hated most. And along with it, the very identity she held as Director of the Intelligence Bureau.
“……I shall obey Your Majesty’s command.”
The voice that echoed through the empty communications room was terribly cracked.
I slowly released the skill. My vision returned to normal. I walked to the window and looked down at the moonlit grounds outside the official residence.
Searchlights swept over the city, and the silhouette of Weymouth Harbor, working day and night, lay dimly in the gloom.
Before I knew it, there was a glass of whiskey in my hand. Drinking while spying on Sydney had somehow become a habit. I tossed back the amber liquid left in the glass in one gulp.
“……Bitter.”
It was distinctly different from the sweet taste I had enjoyed yesterday while leisurely admiring Sydney’s naked body. The harsh scent of strong alcohol scraped hard over the root of my tongue, making my brow furrow on its own.
‘……Sydney was crying.’
I did not feel any shallow sentiment like pity or guilt. Not because of [Indomitable Mind], but because that was how I truly felt.
After all, the one who drew her blade first was Sydney.
The moment I emerged as a promising figure in the Imperial Army, the United Kingdom marked me as its top target for elimination. They sent that capable Aiden Hunt, Major Arthur, as a spy to destroy me.
In the end, had Sydney herself not disguised herself as a maid and infiltrated my side to try to manipulate me?
That was a clear act of hostility. If I had not possessed cheats like [Status Analysis] or [Minimap], I would have long since been caught in their schemes and suffered bitterly for it.
Of course, things were different during the Londinium riots. In the blood-filled waters of the collapsing sewer, we stood back-to-back and crossed the line between life and death. She protected my back, and I saved her.
Even so, Sydney’s color on the [Minimap] was still “white”—neutral. It meant that even comradeship forged through shared life and death had not made her a true ally.
In a way, it was only natural. Sydney was the type to place her homeland and the greater cause above personal debts. Before the interests of the state, yesterday’s comrade could turn into tomorrow’s enemy.
Then would things change later?
If I became a devoted “hero,” took back their country from the Reds, and protected the independence of the United Kingdom from the ambitions of the Empire and the League nations—would she then truly worship me and stand on my side?
‘Not a chance.’
Once the hunt is over, the hound goes into the pot. After the throne is reclaimed, there is no more dangerous thorn in the side than a powerful foreign hero who cannot even be controlled.
There was no need to search far for an example. The answer was clear just by looking at Dietrich, who had been my superior.
I spoon-fed him my achievements and made him a general, and yet the moment my rank rose to colonel and my influence grew, had he not resorted to underhanded schemes behind my back?
That was simply the nature of power. And it was not something that applied only to old foxes like Dietrich. Noble, beautiful women like Charlotte and Sydney were no exception.
This was that kind of place. The world inside the game [Heart of the Empire: Eagle Chronicles].
A place where ruthless ideologies and political power escalated into the most extreme and systematic form of violence called war. A bloodless, tearless arena where strength competed against strength.
There could be no fairy-tale story of a hero and princess in which she offered her body, heart, and even her country simply because he had saved her from the villain.
So I must never show an opening.
Not until the other party truly became “mine.”
Knock, knock.
Just as I was organizing my thoughts, a light knock broke the silence. The tail end of my cold, sunken reflections was cut off by the sound.
“Colonel. Are you still awake?”
A calm, polite voice. It was Hanna. I turned from the window and set the empty glass down on the table.
“Come in.”
Click. The door opened, and Hanna was not the only one who entered. Unexpected uninvited guests poured into the room.
“Colonel Jaeger! I brought the nighttime maintenance report!”
The first to pop out was Frederica. With light, springy steps, she came in, her petite figure barely seeming as if it would reach my chest. But the tight black sleeveless shirt she wore on her upper body revealed her curves without restraint.
‘…Maintenance report?’
What kind of nonsense was that in the dead of night?
Instead of being flustered, I let out a short chuckle.
Because her emerald eyes, strangely bashful yet clearly craving praise, showed her true thoughts far too transparently.
‘An excuse, huh.’
It was an excuse to satisfy the personal desires she had not been able to fulfill because of her busy duties. Since they were commanders leading various units during the day, they would use the nighttime as a pretext and come to me holding some scrap of paperwork as a shield.
But I had not expected them to be waiting outside the door as a group like this.
“Major Frederica. If it is a maintenance report, regulations say it should be submitted to Chief of Staff Helga tomorrow morning.”
Seraphina followed her in and gave a stern warning. And yet, in her own hand, she was conspicuously holding a “night patrol log.” As she smoothed down her silver hair that flowed to her waist, my gaze landed on her, and she quietly cleared her throat and looked away.
“Ahem. As the medical inspector, let me say one thing. Aren’t all of you overworking the tired colonel too much?”
The one who cut between the two and approached was Elise.
In her hands was a tray holding herbal tea from which warm steam rose. Elise naturally pushed aside the whiskey bottle on the table and smiled.
“Late at night, tea is better for the body than hard liquor.”
“……In the end, all of you were going to make excuses and come in anyway, so I do not know why you were sizing each other up so much outside the door.”
Hanna entered last, closing the door behind her with a sigh. It was obvious she had wanted to monopolize me as my adjutant.
I quietly watched the noisy scene. Until just moments ago, I had been alone in the room, sunk in tedious and pedantic thoughts. Yet with the fragrant scents and adorable complaints suddenly flooding in, I almost felt as though I had crossed into another world.
‘Status Analysis.’
[Name: Frederica von Kessel]
[Status: Expectation]
[Emotion: Tank operational rate 100%. Wants to be praised. Wants to secure the seat beside him.]
[Name: Seraphina von Reinhardt]
[Status: Embarrassment, Wariness]
[Emotion: Regulations are just an excuse; came to see his face. Does not want to lose to the other women.]
[Name: Elise von Kleist]
[Status: Sense of duty, subtle possessiveness]
[Emotion: Worried about his health. Aims for natural skinship while he drinks tea.]
[Name: Hanna Meyer]
[Status: Pouting]
[Emotion: Wanted to quietly monopolize Max but was interrupted.]
The cold power that had been weighing down my mind just moments ago, Sydney’s dark sealed room, and all those other troublesome worries—before this noisy scene, they evaporated without a trace.
A ruthless game world where yesterday’s comrade could turn into today’s enemy.
But at least.
These women within my sight were outside that merciless law.
It was none other than the [Harem Overlord Integration Pack].
The absolute safe zone guaranteed to me by an adult cheat mod.
“Everyone, don’t just stand there. Come sit over here.”
I plopped down in the middle of the sofa and patted the seats on both sides of me.
“We can talk about stiff things like regulations and reports tomorrow morning. Today, let’s rest properly.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than Frederica, as if she had been waiting for them, swiftly occupied the seat to my left. Seraphina hesitated, her lips twitching, then quickly planted herself on the sofa to my right before Hanna could head for the spot opposite.
Elise and Hanna, who had lost the subtle battle for seats, sat side by side on the sofa across from us and shot light glances over, but soft smiles were spreading across their lips as well.
“Colonel. Once the supplies from the United States arrive, the tank spare parts should be given top priority…”
“Major, read the room, will you? The colonel said we should talk about work tomorrow.”
Held in their warmth as they bickered in my arms, I comfortably leaned back against the sofa and closed my eyes.
The harsh bitterness of the whiskey that had lingered at the root of my tongue was already melting away into a gentle warmth.