Chapter : 594

Ken pulled upward. He lifted the box off the ground. He stumbled backward slightly. He held the box against his chest. He breathed very fast. He acted like he was holding a massive boulder.

He carried the box across the room. He set it down gently against the far wall. He fell to his knees. He panted loudly.

"That was incredibly difficult," Ken gasped. He wiped his face. "My power level almost dropped to zero. I totally conquered that box. What was inside it? It must have been solid iron weights. Or maybe giant rocks."

Olivia looked at the box. She knew exactly what was inside it.

"That box contains old winter blankets," Olivia corrected him flatly. "It weighs less than five pounds. You are completely ridiculous."

"Blankets are very dense!" Ken argued cheerfully. He gave her a goofy grin. He stood back up. He dusted off his wrinkled navy blue pants. "They hold a lot of static electricity. It makes them very hard to carry."

He walked back to the pile of boxes. He picked up another one. He carried it over to the wall. He stacked it neatly on top of the first box. He repeated this process very slowly. He made a loud, miserable noise every single time he lifted a box. He complained about his fingers hurting. He whined about a tiny splinter.

Olivia sat on her stool. She kept her face totally strict. She tried to remain completely professional.

But something strange happened.

She watched the messy boy carry a box of old swords. He accidentally tripped over a loose floorboard. He did a highly exaggerated, clumsy spin in the air to keep his balance. He hugged the box tightly. He landed on his feet with a loud thud. He immediately bowed to an imaginary audience.

"Flawless evasion," Ken declared proudly. "The floor tried to attack me. I totally outsmarted it."

Olivia pressed her lips together tightly. A tiny, completely involuntary twitch pulled at the corner of her mouth.

She quickly looked away. She stared at the wall. She forced her face back into a stern scowl. She did not want to smile. She was the strict disciplinarian of the unit. She was supposed to teach him a lesson. But his dramatic whining was actually incredibly funny. He did not act angry about the punishment. He just turned the entire chore into a massive, silly comedy routine.

"He acts exactly like a spoiled younger brother," Olivia thought to herself. She gripped her silver-tipped spear. She relaxed her shoulders just a fraction of an inch. "He complains constantly, but he actually finishes the task. He is very absurd."

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Ken moved on to the weapon racks. He picked up several old, rusty swords. He picked up broken training spears. He walked over to a clean wooden shelf.

He placed a sword on the shelf. He placed a spear right next to it. He placed a round shield on top of the sword. He made a very messy pile of equipment.

"Stop," Olivia commanded. She stood up from her stool. She walked over to the shelf. She pointed a strict finger at the pile. "That is completely disorganized. You do not mix swords with spears. You must categorize them properly. Put the blades on the top rack. Put the blunt weapons on the bottom rack."

Ken tilted his head. He looked at the weapons. He slouched his shoulders.

"But I organized them by color," Ken lied smoothly. He offered a lazy smile. "The rusty brown sword matches the rusty brown spear perfectly. It is very pleasing to the eye. It is an artistic arrangement."

"We do not run an art gallery," Olivia scolded gently. She reached out and grabbed the spear. She placed it on the correct shelf. "We run a military unit. Organize them functionally."

"Fine," Ken pouted. He moved the swords to the top rack. "But art is very important. It soothes the soul."

Hours slowly passed. The afternoon sun began to set. The light coming through the open doors turned a warm, golden orange.

Ken swept the floor again. He organized the glass potion bottles. He stacked the final wooden box against the wall. He did not use his god-like magic once. He did all the physical labor with his own two hands. His white shirt was covered in gray dust. His hands were dirty. His hair was even messier than before.

He finally placed the broom back in the corner.

He turned around. He looked at the massive storage room.

The room looked completely different. It was absolutely spotless. The floorboards shined. The boxes sat in perfect, neat towers. The weapons lined the shelves in flawless order. The spider webs were totally gone.

Ken threw his arms wide open. He let his body fall straight backward. He crashed onto the clean wooden floor with a loud thud. He spread his arms and legs out. He stared at the high ceiling.

"I am defeated," Ken announced loudly. He closed his sleepy dark eyes. "The final boss of chores has officially won. My hit points are at zero. I require an immediate revive potion. Or a very soft pillow. Please leave my favorite comic book on my gravestone."

Olivia stood near the center of the room. She looked around. She inspected the shelves. She inspected the floor. She looked for a single speck of dust. She found nothing. The lazy slacker had actually done a completely perfect job.

She looked down at Ken lying on the floor.

The strict, scowling mask finally broke. Olivia smiled. It was a very real, very warm smile. Her dark eyes softened completely. She let out a quiet, genuine laugh. She realized she actually enjoyed spending the afternoon with him. He was not a useless liability. He was just a very goofy, very entertaining boy who needed a little push.

"You did an acceptable job, Ken," Olivia praised him softly. She walked toward the open doors. "You may get up now. The punishment is officially over."

Ken did not move. He kept his eyes closed. "I cannot get up. My bones have turned to dust. I live on this floor now. Tell Naomi I love her sandwiches."

Olivia shook her head. She walked out of the storage room. Her boots clicked on the stone path outside.

Ken lay on the floor. He listened to her footsteps fade away. He opened one eye.

"Wow, she just left me here," Ken mumbled casually. He slouched his shoulders against the wood. "That is very cold. I did all this work, and she just walks away. I thought I would at least get a high-five. Or a glass of water. Oh well. I will just take a nap right here. The floor is surprisingly comfortable."

He closed his eyes again. He prepared to sleep.

Two minutes later, he heard footsteps returning. The clicking boots stopped right next to his head.

Ken opened his eyes. He looked up.