I dragged that idiot Tatiana away and headed home.
I felt sorry for One-oh-one. It was probably better not to let them meet too much. They were like a cat and a dog...
Or so I thought at the time.
“Tatiana, let's play, sir!”
“Alright, let's play!”
A few days later, I saw them hugging tightly. Perhaps because they were both mentally immature, they had become fast friends. We watched over them with warm eyes, like a cat and dog healing video—or at least we did until the bombshell dropped.
“Hey, hey, Your Highness,” Tatiana said.
“What is it, Tatiana?”
“Apparently, she doesn't have a name.”
“Huh?”
Everyone present asked in a low, synchronized voice. I’d assumed One-oh-one was her name, but it turned out it was literally just a management number.
“I am not human, so I am managed by a number, sir!”
Upon hearing that, Wifey looked like she was about to faint. It seemed to be quite a shock to her.
“...Mendelevium. You shall call yourself One-oh-one Mendelevium.”
Element number 101, huh? She’d decided to give her a surname. Since we already called her One-oh-one, she fixed the other part of the name. People born in the colonies, like Kevin and Tatiana, usually didn't have surnames. I’d heard that because many colony citizens were descendants of criminals who’d fled in the night, they’d stopped using them. Over time, that habit became the culture. Since they weren't nobles, they didn't find it inconvenient.
“Thank you very much, sir!!!”
Just like that, One-oh-one became Wifey’s favorite. She started acting as a sort of maid. It seemed Wifey didn't want to send her into combat, either.
Then there was Kevin. They looked identical, yet there were clear differences. First was the hair; while the green color was the same, One-oh-one grew hers out to the absolute limit of military regulations. She clearly understood she was a woman. In contrast, Kevin kept his hair as short as possible without the girls stopping him. It was a final stand, a refusal to abandon his identity as a man.
As for her face, she didn't look like a sister or a clone so much as a close relative. Apparently, their chest sizes were almost the same, too...
I had Kevin look after Tatiana and One-oh-one. For some reason, they both listened to him obediently. (There was also a theory that Tatiana was simply rebellious only toward me.)
Now, One-oh-one’s appearance had led people to hope we might uncover the secrets of the Zork, but it turned out she knew less than a common soldier. The data on the workstation in the ruins wasn't much different from what she told us. However, there were dissection records—the records of twelve female-type Zorks.
Yep, humanity is absolute scum.
Wifey and the Fairy were absolutely livid. They’d considered destroying the records but reconsidered at the last second, choosing instead to take their anger out on the furniture.
The interrogation itself went smoothly. The girl was extremely honest and held no hostility toward the Empire. In fact, her home nation had vanished without even leaving a record behind. Even if she were a spy sent by the Republic, there was nothing she could realistically do. Still, for safety’s sake regarding the Zork, she was kept under guard and made to wear a bracelet that would alert us to any mental or physical abnormalities. Wifey was also carrying a portable shield stronger than her usual one.
That had been the extent of the changes over the last few days.
“The food is delicious, sir!!!” One-oh-one said, devouring a heaping bowl of rice.
“Look, you’ve got a grain on your cheek.”
“Mmm.”
Surprisingly, it was Tatiana who picked it off. She was actually the type who liked taking care of people. If she didn't act so... disappointing most of the time, I think she’d be held in much higher regard.
“Tatiana, what are we playing today, sir!” One-oh-one asked with the beaming face of an elementary schooler on summer break.
“Before we play, let's help out our seniors.”
“Understood, sir!”
Tatiana... she glanced at me for a split second. She definitely said “help out” only because she saw my face. She had absolutely intended to ditch work and play.
We were voluntarily handling chores at the Duke House estate. The staff insisted, “We should be the ones doing this...” but we treated it as training. Life skills dull if you don't use them. That was the pretext we used to teach Tatiana and One-oh-one the basics.
I was pondering this while cleaning the toilet. When I finished and stepped out, they were both waiting for me.
“Major! Major! Play with us, sir!”
“Captain, lend me a game!”
For some reason, they came to me instead of Wifey or Kevin, despite those two being total pushovers. I gave in and set up the game for them...
“...Nn!”
They both struck the ‘give me a snack’ pose.
“I want a snack, sir!”
“Don't overeat. If you don't finish your dinner, I’m the one Claire’s going to yell at.”
Peaceful days passed by. It felt strange after fighting non-stop since our first encounter with the Zork. The war was at a stalemate; we’d reclaimed some territory, but the enemy had occupied even better planets. Finally, the Imperial economy was starting to feel the strain. Prices were skyrocketing, largely due to the reconstruction of the Imperial Capital.
Which meant...
A few days later.
“Leo! I’m done with these documents!”
“What about the wholesale orders for Claire’s family supermarket?”
“Finished! What’s next?”
“The ones for Ren’s planet!”
Yes, having been granted production bases in the suburbs of the Imperial Capital, we had become bone-wearyingly busy. Claire’s family had temporarily suspended their floriculture business to handle the wholesale of our territory’s produce. We relied heavily on the Imperial Capital Central Produce and various trading companies, but we were the ones holding the line on prices in the capital!
Consequently, the final approvals for all the Officer Academy students’ territories landed on my desk. I was going to die. This wouldn't work. I needed to hire a ridiculous number of retainers immediately. It was like suddenly inheriting a massive corporation, except if this business failed, people would actually die. The pressure was terrifying!
“How did Duke Sato handle all this? Was he some kind of genius?”
“He didn't handle it,” someone replied. “He just slipperily dodged the work.”
He was even more of a scumbag than I’d imagined.
“Major! Here is some tea, sir!”
“What a good girl!”
In this hectic life, One-oh-one was my only source of healing. I’m definitely giving her extra snacks!