Chương 199: Chapter : 199

Ken pulled his pinky out of his ear and stared at the ceiling with the hollow, empty eyes of a man whose vacation had just been canceled. The broadcast was still running. A new segment had started, and this one was even worse. It was a special feature titled "Who Is Ken Eliot?" complete with interviews from people who supposedly knew him. The problem was, none of these people actually knew him.

They were just random citizens of the Iron Rose District with vague memories of a messy guy who worked at a boring office job.

"He used to buy instant noodles from my shop every Tuesday," a convenience store owner said on screen, nodding sagely.

"Very polite, but very sleepy. Always looked like he needed a nap."

"I sat next to him on the bus once," an old woman added.

"He fell asleep on my shoulder. I didn't have the heart to wake him." Ken buried his face in the cushion.

"They are interviewing noodle shop owners about me. This is the worst day of my life."

"It is not the worst day of your life," Naomi said, walking over and sitting on the arm of the couch. Her voice was firm, but there was a warmth in it that was different from her usual harsh scolding. She smacked his arm lightly, just enough to get his attention.

"You helped us win the biggest match of the tournament. People are going to notice. That is just how it works."

"I do not want people to notice me," Ken mumbled into the cushion.

"Noticed people have to do things. They have to give speeches. They have to wave at crowds. They have to write their names on things." He lifted his face just enough to show his miserable expression.

"I hate writing my name, Naomi. It takes too many strokes.

'Ken' is fine, but 'Eliot' has too many letters. It is exhausting." Naomi stared at him for a long moment. In the past, she would have yelled at him. She would have called him an idiot and told him to stop being so lazy. But something had changed between them. After everything they had been through together, after he had saved her life more than once on that battlefield, she found she could not be as harsh with him as she used to be. She still smacked him, of course. That was never going to change.

But the sharp edge was gone.

"You are impossible," Naomi said, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She reached over and flicked his forehead gently.

"Just accept it, farm boy. You are famous now. And you need to get even stronger for the next match. No slacking off."

"I have never slacked off in my life," Ken said with absolute, confident dishonesty.

"I am a dedicated, hardworking member of this team who gives one hundred and ten percent every single day." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Laxmi, still sitting on the floor, burst out laughing.

"One hundred and ten percent? Ken, you gave about four percent everyday! I watched you!"

"Four percent is a lot for me in your standard," Ken said seriously. Princess Iris chuckled softly from her armchair. She placed her teacup down and looked at Ken with gentle, amused eyes. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and the tired lines on her face, her smile was warm and genuine. She had come to appreciate Ken's absurdity more than she would ever admit out loud.

"Ken," Iris said, her voice calm and regal but with a hint of playfulness, "when we finally win the Succession War, your farm will automatically become the most famous tourist destination in the entire Empire. Think about it. People will travel from every corner of the land just to see where the legendary Ken Eliot grew his potatoes. You will not even need to advertise. The fame will do all the work for you." Ken blinked. He lifted his head from the cushion, and a slow, dreamy smile spread across his face.

His sleepy eyes suddenly had a spark in them, the kind that only appeared when he thought about his ultimate dream. A potato farm. A quiet, peaceful potato farm where he could sleep all day and nobody would bother him.

"You are right," Ken whispered, his voice filled with awe.

"If I am already famous, I do not need to do anything else. The potatoes will sell themselves. Ken Eliot's Famous Potatoes. People will buy them just because my face is on the bag. I will not even have to go to the market. I can just sit on my porch and watch the money roll in while I take a nap." He sat up properly on the couch for the first time all morning, his eyes shining with potato-fueled inspiration.

"This celebrity thing might not be so bad after all. I just need to make sure I do not have to actually do anything. If fame can sell potatoes without me having to lift a finger, then I accept this burden."

"Don't get a big head, farm boy," Naomi said, but she was trying not to laugh. She ruffled his already messy hair, making it stick up even more.

"You still have a long way to go before you can sit on a porch all day. The next tournament round is going to be harder. The opponents will be stronger. And they have all seen your Knockback trick now. They are going to prepare for it."

"They can prepare all they want," Ken said, waving his hand lazily.

"My trick is not a trick. It is just me shooting tiny bullets and hoping for the best. There is nothing to prepare for because even I do not know what I am doing half the time." He meant it as a joke, but there was more truth in that statement than anyone in the room realized. Ken's entire fighting style was based on winging it. He had no strategy, no plan, and no real training. He just pointed his finger, fired a bullet, and let his bizarre Anime Logic magic do the rest.

The fact that it worked at all was a miracle. The fact that it worked well enough to make him the most talked-about person in the Empire was simply absurd. The broadcast shifted again. This time, it showed a compilation video that some creative fan had already put together. Someone had taken footage of Ken's Knockback hits and edited them to play in rhythm with an upbeat pop song. Every time a soldier went flying, the music hit a drum beat. It was already going viral across the Empire.

Laxmi was howling with laughter.

"Ken, you are a meme! You are an actual meme! Look at this! They made a song out of you!" Ken stared at the screen, watching himself send soldier after soldier flying to the beat of a pop song.

"I want to go back in time and stop myself from being born," he said flatly.