"No, no," Ken waved his hand dismissively. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Do not kill anyone. If you kill them, they will just delay the meeting. They will reschedule it for tomorrow. I do not want to deal with this problem twice. I will just go to the summit. I will play their little game."
Ken walked over to his bed. He sat down on the lumpy mattress. He crossed his ankles comfortably.
"I will put on my best clumsy act," Ken planned casually. "I will slouch. I will complain about my shoes. I will eat snacks in front of the Pope of Celestia. I will let them try to frame me. It will be very funny to watch them fail."
Karna handed the white envelope back to Ken. "You have absolute control of the situation, Boss. I will return to the shadows. I will continue tracking the Black Magicians. We will locate their hidden plots."
"Thank you, Karna," Ken nodded lazily. "Keep me updated. Do not start any massive fires. I want a peaceful day."
"Understood," Karna replied respectfully.
The green magical circle flared brightly on the floorboards. The air turned freezing cold for a fraction of a second. Karna stepped backward. He dissolved seamlessly into the dark shadows. The spymaster completely vanished from the bedroom. The green light faded away into nothingness.
The room returned to its normal, dusty state. The temperature warmed up. The magical pressure vanished entirely.
Ken Eliot sat alone on his bed. He looked at the fancy white envelope in his hand. He looked at the bright red wax seal.
He did not feel angry. He did not feel scared. He did not feel worried about the massive political trap waiting for him at the Imperial Palace. He just felt mildly annoyed by the mandatory cardio.
Ken tossed the envelope carelessly onto his wooden desk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his colorful bag of gummy worms. He opened the bag. He pulled out a yellow candy. He popped it into his mouth. He chewed it slowly.
Crunch.
Ken smiled a lazy, incredibly confident smile. His dark, sleepy eyes sparkled with pure amusement. The corrupt politicians thought they were brilliant. They thought they had trapped a helpless victim. They had absolutely no idea they had just invited a literal god of destruction to their fancy tea party.
Ken slouched his shoulders. He leaned back against his pillows. He felt totally relaxed.
"Let's see what these idiots do," Ken said.
---
The morning sun streamed through the large windows of the 13th Unit estate. The cozy living room was filled with the usual comfortable chaos.
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Ken Eliot lay sprawled across the entire length of the sofa. His navy blue suit pants were wrinkled. His white dress shirt hung completely untucked. His black hair stuck out in wild, messy spikes. He held a large bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in one hand. He watched the ceiling with sleepy, half-closed eyes.
Naomi sat in the armchair across from him. She wore a simple dark combat uniform. Her bright red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. She held a warm cup of tea. She smiled a very warm, fond smile at the lazy boy on the sofa.
"Are you going to get ready, Ken?" Naomi asked gently. "The summit starts in two hours."
"I am ready," Ken replied lazily. He crunched on a chip. "I have been ready my entire life. I was born ready. Ready is my middle name."
Laxmi sat cross-legged on the rug. The fire user tossed a tiny orange spark between her fingers. "You are wearing wrinkled pants, Ken. That is not ready. That is a disaster."
"It is a fashion choice," Ken argued. He waved his chip bag. "Wrinkles add character. They show I have a rich, eventful life. They tell a story."
Zinia stood near the window, her muscular arms crossed. She laughed a deep, booming laugh. "Your pants are telling a story, alright. The story of a man who sleeps in his clothes."
Sayma sat at the dining table with her notebook open. The intelligent Vice-Captain pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. "The summit is a critical diplomatic event. Proper attire is expected. But I suspect Ken has a plan that does not involve ironing."
Ira stood perfectly still near the wall. Her pale face showed zero emotion. "Statistically speaking, Ken's plans have a seventy percent success rate despite appearing entirely chaotic. The probability of him wearing ironed pants is less than two percent."
Luna lay curled on a wooden bench with a knitted blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The lightning user let out a massive yawn. "Can we talk about the summit later? I am trying to finish my dream. There was a giant cheese wheel."
Risa sat on the rug near Laxmi. The sweet pink-haired healer hugged her stuffed teddy bear tightly. She used a green colored pencil to draw a happy little tree on a piece of paper. "I hope the summit goes well. I do not like it when people yell."
The front door of the estate swung open. Princess Iris Belmontia walked inside. She wore her crisp dark blue uniform. Her violet eyes looked sharp and determined. She carried a thin silver rapier at her hip.
"Good morning, everyone," Iris announced. She looked around the cozy living room. "The carriage is ready. The Emperor expects the 13th Unit to be present at the summit."
Ken did not move. He stared at the ceiling. He took another slow bite of his potato chip. Crunch.
"The whole unit?" Ken mumbled lazily. "That seems like overkill. Half of us will just fall asleep. The chairs are probably very hard."
Iris crossed her arms. "The Emperor specifically requested the 13th Unit's presence."
Ken slowly sat up. He stretched his arms above his head. He let out a long, dramatic yawn. "Fine. But sending everyone is a waste of manpower. I will handle this. The rest will stay here and monitor the broadcast."
Naomi tilted her head. "You are going alone?"
"Trust me," Ken replied. He stood up from the sofa. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I have a plan."
He walked toward the hallway. Naomi stood up and followed him with her eyes.
"Ken," she called softly.
Ken stopped. He turned around.
Naomi's green eyes held genuine concern. "Be careful."
Ken gave her a goofy smile. "Always am."
He stepped into the dark hallway. He turned the corner. He was completely alone.
Ken stopped walking. His lazy expression vanished. His eyes turned sharp and focused.
He raised his right hand. He snapped his fingers softly.
A pulse of dark purple light flickered in the shadows. An exact copy of Ken materialized next to him. The clone wore the same wrinkled suit. The same messy hair. The same lazy expression. It looked exactly like Ken in every way.
"Stay with the team," Ken whispered. "Watch the summit on TV with them. Act like me. Do not let anyone suspect anything."
The clone grinned lazily. "Easy."
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