Chương 295: Chapter : 295

She knelt down to meet his eyes.

"The late gang bosses Vane and Augusto. Were they your customers for the illegal Devil Flour shipments?" The Vice Director's face went from white to gray. Vane and Augusto were names that hadn't been spoken in his presence for months, names that were supposed to be buried in the deepest, darkest corners of the corporate record.

"How do you..." he started.

"Answer the question," Iris said, her voice like ice.

"Were Vane and Augusto your primary customers for Devil Flour?" The Vice Director looked around at his defeated mercenaries, his destroyed office, and the implacable faces of the 13th Unit. There was no escape. No leverage. No negotiation. The money had run out, and the truth was all that remained. He could lie. He could deny. He could claim that the confession was coerced.

But the documents in his office, the shipping manifests, the internal memos, the financial records, they would tell the same story regardless of what he said. The evidence was overwhelming and irrefutable. And somewhere in that mountain of evidence, Sayma would find the thread that connected the Benjamin Group to the Anti-Empire faction, the pharmaceutical monopoly to the treason network, and the murder of Dr. Carrion to the highest levels of corporate and political power. The truth would out. It always did.

"Yes," he whispered, the word coming out like a death rattle.

"Vane and Augusto were our highest-paying customers for the Devil Flour shipments. We supplied them for years, before they were killed." The confession hung in the air like a verdict. The medical monopoly was officially connected to the darkest villains the 13th Unit had previously defeated. The conspiracy ran deeper than anyone had imagined. Iris stood and looked down at the kneeling Vice Director with an expression that blended satisfaction and disgust in equal measure.

"Take him into custody. And secure this building. Every file, every document, every computer. The Upper Council will want to see all of it." As the team moved to secure the building, Ken paused in the devastated lobby and looked around at the wreckage. Scorch marks on the walls. Shattered glass on the floor. Unconscious mercenaries strewn across the marble like discarded puppets.

"You know," he said to no one in particular, "for a building full of evil corporate villains, they really should have invested in better security. Or at least less breakable furniture." He kicked a piece of shattered marble with his shoe.

"Although I have to admit, the marble floors are very satisfying to break. Very crisp. Good fracture lines. A-plus destruction." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Laxmi rolled her eyes.

"Only you would give a damage report on enemy furniture." Laxmi snorted.

"You literally walked through the entire battle without taking your hands out of your pockets."

"Cardio," Ken said seriously.

"It's all about the cardio." Naomi shook her head, but she was smiling. They were all smiling, even Ira, whose expression was barely a twitch at the corner of her mouth but counted as a grin by her standards. The Benjamin Group was finished. The truth was free. And the 13th Unit had won. It hadn't been elegant. It hadn't been subtle. But it had been justice. And sometimes, justice looked like a lazy young man with his hands in his pockets, walking through a war zone and humming a tune that nobody else could hear.

Risa watched Ken from across the lobby, her green eyes soft despite the chaos around her. He was ridiculous. He was lazy. He was infuriating. And he was, without question, the most remarkable person she had ever met. She tucked that thought away carefully, like a precious stone hidden in a pocket, and went back to work. The sun was rising over the capital city, casting long golden rays through the shattered windows of the Benjamin Group headquarters. A new day was beginning.

And somewhere in that light, three hundred thousand lives a year were one step closer to being saved. The 13th Unit walked out of the Benjamin Group headquarters together, battered but victorious, tired but unbowed. Behind them, the capital's most powerful corporate syndicate lay in ruins, its crimes exposed, its leaders in custody, and its sinister monopoly shattered beyond repair. And at the front of the group, hands in his pockets and a goofy smile on his face, walked Ken Eliot. The buffoon. The joke.

The lazy nobleman's son who couldn't be bothered to take his hands out of his pockets during a fight. But the 13th Unit knew the truth. And now, so did the Benjamin Group. Some people, it turned out, were not nearly as harmless as they appeared. And some buffoons were worth far more than their weight in gold. The investigation would continue. The Anti-Empire faction still lurked in the shadows. Lancelot was still watching from behind the mask.

And somewhere, the ZulFarah Black Magicians were still pursuing their apocalyptic goals. The fight was far from over. But today, the 13th Unit had won a battle that mattered. They had exposed corruption that had festered for decades. They had avenge a scientist who had been murdered for trying to save lives. And they had proven that justice, no matter how outmatched it seemed, could still prevail. Ken stretched his arms above his head and yawned again, wider this time.

"So, what's for lunch? All this justice works up an appetite." Iris shook her head, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile.

"You just helped dismantle a trillion-Bel corporate syndicate, and you're thinking about lunch?"

"Priorities, Princess," Ken said, patting his stomach.

"Priorities." The team walked out into the morning sunlight together, and for a brief, shining moment, the world felt a little bit brighter than it had before. Not because evil had been vanquished forever, but because good people had refused to let it win. And that, in the end, was all that mattered. Not the power. Not the magic. Not the corporate wealth or the political connections. Just people who cared enough to fight for what was right, even when the odds were impossible.

The 13th Unit walked into the sunrise, and the world changed around them. Not all at once. Not completely. But enough. Enough to make a difference. Enough to save some lives. Enough to prove that even a lazy buffoon with his hands in his pockets could change the course of history.