Chương 90: Chapter : 90

It was a tricky, high-pressure situation. Two unknown Royal teams, a mystery object, and the threat of losing their hard-earned points. It was exactly the kind of complicated, stressful scenario that Ken absolutely hated. He just wanted to live a slow life, but the Empire kept throwing riddles and races at him.

"Well, this is going to be incredibly annoying," Ken muttered to himself, turning to slowly shuffle his way back inside.

"I guess we have a mystery to solve. I just hope the other teams aren't full of loud, arrogant jerks. Dealing with rich kids is exhausting."

"Stop right there, farm boy." Ken Eliot froze in his tracks. He was standing in the middle of the estate hallway, holding a half-eaten apple in his left hand. He had just woken up from a very nice morning nap and was currently making his way toward the kitchen to see if anyone had left any leftover pancakes on the counter. He slowly turned his head to the side. Naomi was standing right next to him, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her green eyes were narrowed into a fierce glare.

Standing right beside her was Sayma, who was pushing her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose with a soft, polite sigh. Ken gave them a goofy, entirely innocent smile.

"Good morning, boss lady. Good morning, Vice-Captain. Is there a problem? Because if there is a monster in the house, I am officially off the clock today." Naomi reached out and grabbed the collar of his dark blue servant uniform. She pulled him forward just an inch, looking him up and down with absolute disgust.

"You are the monster, Ken," Naomi said, her voice sharp.

"Look at yourself. Your shirt is completely untucked on one side, and the other side looks like it got chewed on by a dog. Your tie is literally hanging over your left shoulder. Your jacket is completely wrinkled. You look like a walking laundry pile." Ken looked down at his own clothes. He casually took a bite of his apple and chewed happily.

"I think I look great," he mumbled with his mouth full.

"This is my signature style. It is called 'aerodynamic comfort.' Tight clothes just restrict your blood flow. If I wear something too tight, I won't be able to take a proper nap. It is a health hazard."

"It is an embarrassment," Naomi corrected him, letting go of his collar and wiping her hand on her pants like he was covered in dirt.

"We are members of the 13th Unit. We represent Princess Iris. Whenever we step out of this estate, people look at us. When they look at you, they probably think our Princess hires people straight out of the garbage dump." Sayma nodded gently in agreement.

"Naomi is right, Ken. The Emperor just assigned us a new mission where we will be directly racing against two other Royal units. That means we will be standing right next to the servants of other Princes and Princesses. We need to project an image of strength and professionalism. We cannot afford to look like we are struggling." This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ken slouched his shoulders, letting out a long, dramatic groan.

"Why do we care what the other rich kids think? If they want to wear uncomfortable, stiff clothes, let them. I am a commoner. I embrace my messy roots. Plus, my shoes are very broken in. I can slide across the floor in my socks without any friction."

"You are not sliding anywhere," Naomi snapped, grabbing his arm.

"We have had enough of this. We are going to the city right now. Sayma and I are going to buy you some proper, respectable clothes so you stop humiliating us." Ken's eyes went wide with pure panic.

"Wait! Shopping?! No, please! Shopping is the absolute worst form of cardio! You have to walk around for hours, carry heavy bags, and try on pants! I hate trying on pants! It takes so much energy to take your shoes off and put them back on!"

"Too bad," Naomi said, dragging him down the hallway toward the front doors.

"You are coming with us, and you are going to let us dress you like a normal human being."

"Sayma, save me!" Ken cried out, giving the Vice-Captain his biggest, saddest puppy-dog eyes.

"I am a growing boy! I need my rest! If I go shopping, my legs will turn to jelly!" Sayma just offered a pleasant, totally merciless smile.

"Walking is good for you, Ken. Think of it as light training." Fifteen minutes later, Ken found himself completely dragged out of the quiet, safe estate and thrown into the loud, chaotic streets of the bustling city market. The market was packed with people. The streets were lined with colorful tents, loud merchants yelling about their fresh vegetables, and the smell of roasting meat floating in the air. Carts pulled by magical beasts rolled down the cobblestone roads, and the crowds were shoulder-to-shoulder.

For the girls, it was a perfectly normal day out. For Ken, it was an absolute nightmare of noise and walking.

"Can I get a piggyback ride?" Ken asked lazily, dragging his feet so hard his cheap shoes scuffed loudly against the stones.

"My energy levels are dropping fast. If I don't get a snack in the next five minutes, I might just lie down right here on the pavement and wait for the sun to go down." Naomi looked over her shoulder and gave him a death glare.

"If you lie down on the ground, I will step on you. Keep walking." Ken pouted, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"You guys are so mean. You promised me this would be quick. We have been walking for at least ten minutes. That is a marathon." Sayma stopped in front of a very large, incredibly fancy-looking boutique. The windows were made of spotless glass, displaying expensive suits, fine silk shirts, and polished leather boots. The sign above the door had golden lettering. It was clearly a shop designed for the wealthy nobles of the Inner City.

"Here we are," Sayma announced, pushing the elegant glass door open. A small silver bell chimed cheerfully as they walked inside. The inside of the shop smelled like expensive cologne and fresh fabric. A tall, older man with a measuring tape around his neck walked up to greet them. He looked at Sayma and Naomi, noting their clean, well-kept uniforms and immediately recognizing them as high-class clients. He offered them a deep, respectful bow.

"Welcome, my ladies," the tailor said smoothly.

"How may I be of service to you today? Are you looking for formal wear or something more combat-ready?"

"We are looking for a suit," Sayma said politely. She stepped aside and pointed to Ken, who was currently leaning all his weight against a display table, looking like he was about to fall asleep standing up.

"For him." The tailor's polite smile instantly vanished. He looked at Ken's wrinkled, untucked uniform, his crooked tie, and his messy hair. The tailor actually let out a small gasp of horror, treating Ken like a walking disaster zone.