I received a message from the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
"Huh?"
Puzzled, I opened the attached file titled "Considerations on the Right of Succession."
Wait, what?
Apparently, the scholars of Chronos had held an emergency meeting regarding the line of succession. They’d pulled an all-nighter for it.
In other words, they were already planning for what would happen after I died.
I could more or less understand why Ren’s younger brother, Marma, had a claim to the Chronosian throne. But even that jerk Amada’s future kid was on the list?
Ah... I see.
And look at that—even Big Brother Sam had a right of succession.
Per the wishes of Wifey and myself, my father and my eldest brother were excluded from the line. Both of them were currently in retirement, after all. It wasn't a punishment; they just weren't part of the active political structure anymore.
However, all three of the current candidates only held "provisional numbers." If I ever had a child of my own, they would take priority.
Furthermore, Big Brother Cyrus—officially known as Shiramber—who was legally a relative of House Kamishiro, was excluded to prevent any future power struggles with the Galactic Empire. I’d already cleared this with both Big Brother Cyrus and Brother-in-law Thomas.
Speaking of Brother-in-law Thomas, he was currently ranked first in the provisional line of succession until my own child was born. He had hated the idea with a passion, but I'd eventually managed to talk him into it.
After all, if I kicked the bucket, Thomas was the only one I could actually trust to run the country. I’d figured things would be fine as long as he was there, but it seemed the scholars felt the need to make it an official point of debate. Hahaha.
Up to that point, it was all just a bit of a joke to me. As long as I eventually had a kid, there wouldn't be any issues. Besides, our regular medical checkups had given us a clean bill of health. Both my wives and I were perfectly capable of reproducing.
We even had the "seeds" cryopreserved just in case. The eggs were properly stored as well—and not just for Wifey, but for all of them. Essentially, even if I died today, the lineage would be fine.
I went to bed satisfied with that knowledge, but when I woke up, the world had completely changed.
"Lady Selene, who wed into the commonality from the Galactic Empire’s Royal Family, is pregnant! Her husband is Mr. Amada, Chairman of Amada Security!"
The very first news broadcast of the morning was delivered in a high-tension, celebratory tone.
How did they even find out?
I checked my messages and found a congratulatory note from Lou-chan's Mama. I wondered if a high-ranking official had leaked the info. I wasn't exactly trying to hide it, so it wasn't a huge deal, but still.
Then, the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued an official joint statement of congratulations. It was signed by Isono.
So you were the culprit after all...
When I headed down to the dining hall, everyone was in a giddy, celebratory mood. The conversation revolved entirely around babies. To be fair, most of them were at the prime biological age for starting a family.
That mood quickly rippled out into the general public. By that afternoon, the entirety of Chronos was swept up in a "we want babies" fever.
Couples who had been on the fence suddenly rushed to file their marriage registrations, and the sheer volume of data caused the administration servers to crash. Wedding venues were booked solid instantly; as an emergency measure, we had to start renting out sections of the palace and even the national parks. In Chronos, the tradition was to throw a party with relatives and neighbors that lasted until dawn, so being outdoors wasn't an issue for them.
An absurd number of catering orders flooded the side dish shop run by Ha-san. The graduates of the orphanage—Ha-san’s primary business—were out in full force to help her keep up.
The frenzy even reached the Galactic Empire. The Fairy was buried under mountains of marriage certificates, working until she was exhausted.
In the end, it all came down to the "vibe" of the era. A massive, genuine baby rush was on the horizon.
Consequently, real estate began selling like hotcakes. Companies from all sectors started expanding across the galaxy. After all, if a region was about to see a population explosion, it meant stability for decades to come. Everything from delis to factories, logistics warehouses to refineries—it was all booming.
Banks were throwing money at anyone who wanted a loan. With the coming population bonus, their investments were practically guaranteed. Stock prices for child-related industries soared to otherworldly heights.
Everyone involved was staring blankly, looking exactly like that meme of a cat lost in space.
I was right there with them.
The population problem that hadn't been solved for centuries had just... fixed itself.
Development in Chronos proceeded at a breakneck pace. The wilderness surrounding the Royal Capital and the planets that had been left in ruins by the Locust Terrorist Attack were being transformed into residential zones. Population recovery would likely be achieved in the blink of an eye.
Chronos actually had an advantage in a situation like this. Because the elderly and those in power had been the first to die during the crisis—even if the grim reality was just that they hadn't been fast enough to escape.
I had leaned into that for propaganda with everything I had, and the citizens had been more than willing to accept it. I had branded it as the "Myth of the Parents Who Shielded Their Children."
Deep down, everyone knew it was a lie, but we all agreed to treat it as truth. Of course, scholars and academics would argue against it, pointing out that people had simply failed to flee in time. I wouldn't deny their findings, but that was strictly for the history books.
We chose the myth instead. We chose to honor the dead.
Because of that, being a soldier was a prestigious career again, and the Chronosian Nobles were treated with genuine respect. We had maintained a status quo built on hope, and it had finally reached its boiling point.
Man, it was incredible.
In the midst of all this, Claire was absolutely beaming.
"Leo, I’m so excited for our baby!"
"O-Oh, yeah."
She was even humming a tune. Wifey was exactly the same.
"Lord Groom. I am quite looking forward to the child."
"O-Oh, me too."
She was humming, too. Melissa watched the two of them and clutched her stomach, laughing her head off.
"Look at how giddy you two are!"
"Do you feel like you want a kid soon, too?" I asked.
"I think Veronica-chan definitely does. I’m not so sure about Claire, though."
That sounded about right.
"What about you, Melissa?"
"I don't know. The fact that I got married at all was a shock to the system."
"I guess so... What about Ren?"
As if on cue, Ren arrived with the tea cart.
"Hey, Ren. Do you want to have a child?" I asked her directly.
"Let me see," she replied. "Marma will have his coming-of-age ceremony in three years, so perhaps around then would be best."
He’d be fifteen by then. Once he came of age, his territory would be secure.
"Besides," she added, "it would be a relief to stop taking the heat suppressants."
Right, she was Beast Race...
"Sorry about that."
"Oh, no—it’s just a bit of a nuisance because they make me feel drowsy."
"I’m really sorry for being such an incompetent husband."
"My, you are a very good husband, Master," Ren said with a smile. "Members of the Beast Race are often treated quite roughly because we’re so sturdy, you see."
The Duke Mistral Territory, which Marma governed, was a paradise for the Beast Race. It also housed many modified humans who had undergone Chlorella Treatment. Because the lord himself was Beast Race, the social atmosphere was open and free of discrimination. The fact that the planet was warm and dry was also a huge draw. Apparently, they were having a marriage rush of their own.
And just like that, the galaxy, which had been spiraling into a dark and depressing place, tilted back toward happiness.
What did that actually mean in practice? It meant the recovery of Jester, who had been suffering from a cold and chronic fatigue.
First, Tatiana bounced back. She was full of energy now, throwing herself into her duties as a Saint. Alyssa had apparently been bedridden, but she’d recovered as well and was working her head off.
As for me, I was working hard, too. I threw myself into the reconstruction plans for Lepsitol with gusto.
Parcion?
Ignore, ignore! I didn't see a thing!