Chapter 70: 69 Wrong, Wrong, Wrong

69 Wrong, Wrong, Wrong

At night, in a small villa within the military district’s guarded family compound—though vast in area, it was nearly bare of furnishings.

“Isa?”

Watching her daughter, a tall middle-aged woman walked over anxiously, the girl hugging a giant plush toy and sitting motionless on the sofa in a daze; she pressed her chin to the girl’s forehead to test its warmth, then pulled her into her arms and asked softly:

“What’s wrong? Are you unwell?”

Feeling the familiar warmth of her mother’s embrace, the female police officer snapped back to awareness, shook her head, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and buried her face deep in her chest, muffled:

“I’m actually fine—just… some work matters haven’t gone well…”

“I see.”

Hearing her daughter wasn’t sick, the middle-aged woman exhaled in relief, gently stroking her daughter’s smooth long hair as she asked quietly:

“Still about the Lyon family? They’re still refusing the investigation?”

“No, this time it’s something else…”

Recalling the scene she’d seen at noon and the findings on “Leon Lyon,” the female officer lifted her head from her mother’s arms, her eyes complex:

“Mom, three months ago—did the military cut off a lot of survivor pensions ahead of schedule?”

“There was something like that…”

Hearing her daughter’s question, the middle-aged woman paused to recall, then sighed helplessly:

“You know the military’s expenses have been soaring these past years—the kingdom’s treasury can barely hold up. This year’s budget was slashed by a third. Your father comes home every day sighing… Isa, why are you asking about this now?”

“I just think it’s unfair…”

Recalling the four-member family in the afternoon’s file who’d nearly been driven to death, the female officer’s eyes softened with pity, her voice growing louder:

“The military has forty-seven departments—each with huge expenses. There are so many places to cut—why target survivor pensions?

Mom, do you know? Many still receiving pensions are survivors from the six-year-old national defense war—even orphans who lost both parents!

Many of them can’t even support themselves—they rely entirely on those pensions. Cutting them off early is practically forcing them to die!”

“Isa?”

Hearing her daughter’s words, the kind-faced woman froze slightly, then her expression hardened; she frowned and spoke coldly:

“Tell me—who taught you to say these things?”

“No one taught me. I thought of them myself!”

“You never thought like this before! You used to always…”

“People change!”

“But you used to… sigh… never mind…”

Seeing her daughter’s lips tightly pressed, clearly stubborn, the middle-aged woman rubbed her temples in resignation, then lowered her voice again:

“I don’t care where you heard this—but only tell me, never say these things to your father…”

“Why not?”

The female officer’s eyes brimmed with resentment:

“Even if he didn’t propose it, this insane decision passed only because he at least approved it! If he did it, he should…”

“Isa!”

After silencing her increasingly heated daughter, the middle-aged woman scolded sharply:

“You’re grown now—you should be more sensible! So much has happened this year—do you know how much pressure your father is under? Don’t add to his burdens with your problems!”

“Then what about the burden he’s added to me?”

Remembering the man at noon, clad in an old coat, happily eating pudding scattered on the table, the female officer couldn’t hold back:

“Mom, today I met someone—his parents died in the six-year-old national defense war, but the military’s pension payments only reached him one-third of what they owed, forcing him to support his family at thirteen or fourteen—carrying sacks under the summer sun, spending entire days in icy harbor water scrubbing cargo ships!

That sounds insane enough, right? But do you know? After your father signed the order, the remaining third was cut too—and he has two younger siblings, only six or seven! His sick sister stopped taking medicine to save money and nearly died in the hospital!”

“Sigh…”

Seeing her daughter’s eyes reddening, the middle-aged woman, aware of the military’s situation, sighed with guilt:

“Your father… he really has no choice… Isa, how is that family now? I still have some money—would you like me to…”

“No need. He probably doesn’t lack money anymore.”

The female officer took a deep breath, turned her head away, and whispered with complex eyes:

“He joined the rebels. Now he’s an informant inside the Police Bureau. This morning he disrupted our raid and rescued a rebel involved in the Princess’s assassination.”

“….”

“So now it’s not me causing trouble for my father—it’s him causing trouble for me, right?”

After glancing at her silent mother, the female officer sat back on the sofa with a cold laugh, her eyes fixed again on the doorway.

“Can I ask now? I want to know—what kind of heart did he have to sign that filthy, rotten proposal?”

“….”

Watching her daughter, who hugged a soft toy yet looked like a hedgehog bristling with spines, ready to strike, the middle-aged woman could only soothe gently:

“Isa, listen—just…”

“Don’t try to comfort me!”

The female officer turned her head away, stubborn:

“You taught me—do your own deeds, and have the courage to bear them!”

“But you also learned from him that some responsibilities are destined to outweigh everything else.”

Patting her daughter’s back, the middle-aged woman’s eyes dimmed:

“The national defense war didn’t just take others’ lives—your brother and two uncles died six years ago too. And this pension cut started right from our own household…

Stop! Don’t argue!

I know we don’t rely on pensions to live—I mention this only to say: don’t think too badly of your father. To keep this crumbling military afloat, he’s truly done everything he can.”

Looking up at the empty room upstairs, remembering her eldest son lost six years ago, the middle-aged woman’s eyes welled with tears:

“At the start of this year, the previous head of the military was executed for going too far, leaving countless holes to fill—just as the budget was slashed.

Everyone knew the holes couldn’t be filled. Whoever took over would be blamed for incompetence. The few qualified candidates refused the poisoned chalice—only your father stepped forward…”

Recalling how her husband had grown quieter, thinner, his back slowly bent over the past year, the middle-aged woman gripped her daughter’s hand, her voice trembling:

“The six-year-old war is a wound in your father’s heart. Now the military’s problems are too great—if we let them fester or hand them to a weak successor, the same disaster will repeat. He can’t walk away.

I know cutting pensions early is cruel—but have you noticed? Since taking this burden, barely a year, half his hair has turned white—he’s nearly been drained dry by the military’s affairs.”

“But couldn’t he just…”

“Isa, your father has truly done his best.”

Interrupting her daughter, the middle-aged woman sighed softly:

“This year, I’ve watched him do everything possible—but even then, the holes couldn’t be filled, so he reluctantly agreed to cut pensions here.

He also issued strict orders: pension officers must visit each household at least three times over two months before cutting, confirming they can still survive.

But he only has two eyes—he can’t watch everyone. So no matter how much preparation, tragedies like this still happen…

Sigh, Isa, I’m begging you—go to your room. Don’t make him worry anymore, okay?”

“….”

“Okay?”

“Fine…”

The stubborn female officer, finally broken by her mother’s gentle plea, was pulled reluctantly from the sofa, eyes full of resentment.

Back in her room, hugging the plush toy on the soft mattress, exhausted as she was, she didn’t sleep as usual—instead, she stared blankly at the ceiling lamp.

My father, desperately holding up the military—wasn’t wrong… I, hunting rebels who attack and destroy—wasn’t wrong… He, forced into rebellion after his pension was cut—wasn’t wrong…

Then who is wrong?