Chương 200: Chapter : 200

The living room was still buzzing with energy. The television kept playing new segments. Analysts were breaking down every single one of Ken's shots. Commentators were debating whether he was a genius or just incredibly lucky. Fan clubs were apparently already forming in the capital, with names like "The Knockback Army" and "Ken's Cyan Bullet Brigade." It was all too much. Ken sank back into the couch, pulling a cushion over his face.

Through the fabric, his muffled voice called out, "Can someone please turn off the TV? I will do anything. I will clean the kitchen. I will carry everyone's bags for a week. Just make the talking heads stop talking about me."

"No way," Laxmi said, grinning from ear to ear.

"This is the best entertainment I have had in months!" Sayma pushed her glasses up and spoke in her usual calm, analytical tone.

"Statistically speaking, this level of public attention is highly unusual for a servant-class participant. The media typically focuses on Royal Family members during the Succession War. The fact that they are devoting this much airtime to Ken indicates a significant shift in public interest. It could be advantageous for the 13th Unit's overall ranking." She paused, looking at Ken with a slightly sympathetic expression.

"However, I understand the personal discomfort may be considerable."

"Thank you, Sayma," Ken said from under the cushion.

"At least someone understands my pain." Ira, who had not moved or spoken for the entire morning, suddenly turned her head toward the couch. Her face was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

"The probability of media attention decreasing within the next seventy-two hours is approximately three percent," she said in her flat, monotonous voice.

"Recommendation: accept reality and adjust behavior accordingly."

"Ira, that is the least helpful advice I have ever received," Ken said, removing the cushion from his face.

"And you once told me that the best way to fix a broken plate was to grind it into dust and start over."

"That was statistically accurate advice," Ira replied without any change in her expression.

"Broken plates cannot be repaired. Dust can be recycled." Even Luna, half-asleep on the carpet, let out a sleepy chuckle at that. She blinked her half-open eyes and mumbled, "Ira wins again." It was at this moment that Risa, who had been sitting quietly in front of the television the entire time, turned around to look at Ken. Her stuffed teddy bear was clutched tightly against her chest, and her bright green eyes were filled with something that made Ken feel very uncomfortable. It was admiration.

Pure, genuine, sparkling admiration.

"Ken," Risa said softly. Her voice was sweet and gentle, like a tiny bell ringing in a quiet garden.

"You were so amazing yesterday. I watched the whole thing from the window. The way you stood on that tower and shot those pretty blue lights, and the way all the bad soldiers went flying away. It was like magic from a fairy tale." Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Ken opened his mouth, but Risa continued before he could get a word out. Her eyes were getting even wider, and she hugged her teddy bear tighter.

"I wish I could be as brave as you, Ken," Risa whispered. The words came out so sincerely, so innocently, that they hung in the air like tiny stars.

"You were so calm up there. You never looked scared at all. And you controlled your power so perfectly. Every single bullet hit exactly where it needed to go. I wish I could control my power like that. My plants always get scary when I get scared. But you never get scared, do you?" The room went quiet. Even the television seemed to lower its volume, as if the universe was pausing to hear Ken's response. Naomi glanced at him, her expression softening. Sayma looked up from her notebook. Iris set down her teacup.

Everyone was watching Ken. Ken stared at Risa. He looked at her small, hopeful face, at her wide green eyes that truly, honestly believed that he was some kind of brave, composed warrior. He looked at the way she clutched her teddy bear as if it was her only protection against a scary world. And inside his head, a very different thought was playing on a loop.

"What match was she watching?" Ken thought desperately.

"When was I ever brave? I spent half the time hiding behind the tower wall! I nearly fell off the platform twice because I tripped over my own feet! I was shaking so hard my aim was basically just pointing my finger and praying! The only reason I looked calm is because I was too tired to make a scared face!" But he could not say any of that out loud. Not to Risa. Not to the sweet, innocent girl who looked at him like he was a hero from a storybook.

She already had enough fear in her life, with her unstable magic and her constant worry about hurting people. She needed someone to look up to, someone who made bravery seem easy. And right now, whether he liked it or not, that someone was him. So Ken did what he always did. He put on a goofy, lazy smile. He reached over and gently patted Risa on the head, ruffling her hair just enough to make her giggle.

"Brave? Me?" Ken said, putting on his best clueless expression.

"Nah, Risa, I was just trying to finish the match quickly so I could go back to sleep. Being brave takes way too much energy. I was just being lazy in a really effective way." Risa tilted her head, confused but still smiling.

"Lazy can be brave too?" she asked innocently.

"The laziest people are sometimes the bravest," Ken said, nodding wisely.

"Because we are too lazy to run away. Running takes effort. Standing still is way easier." Risa considered this for a moment, then beamed at him.

"That makes sense! I never thought about it like that! Thank you, Ken!" Naomi rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"You are going to give her terrible advice," she said, but there was no real bite in her words. She walked over and gently guided Risa back to face the television.

"Come on, Risa. Let's watch the rest of the broadcast." Ken leaned back into the couch and let out a long, quiet breath. He stared at the ceiling, watching the sunlight slowly move across the wooden beams. The television was still talking about him. The Knockback compilations were still playing. The fan clubs were still growing. And somewhere in the capital, people were probably already printing T-shirts with his face on them. But right here, in this room, surrounded by his team, it felt safe.

Iris was sipping her tea calmly. Naomi was standing guard, protective and strong. Risa was giggling at the TV. Laxmi was cheering at every replay. Sayma was taking notes. Zinia was nodding approvingly. Luna was falling back asleep. Ira was standing perfectly still. They were all here. They were all together. And for now, that was enough.