Episode 14 — The Competent Slacker and the Diligent Fool

“…So, why are you two working yourselves to death?

Do demonfolk really show up that often?”

I drank my cola and asked the simple question.

Bartos, who had been staring intensely at the diagram, froze.

“…Master Zect, do you not know of the ‘Gray Winter’ three years ago?”

His voice suddenly lost all warmth.

Elishua lowered her gaze as if recalling something painful.

They told me about the great invasion that struck Felsen.

A horde of demonfolk pouring from the forest.

Villages burned.

A desperate defense.

Bartos lost his fellow knights.

Elishua lost her mentor.

“Such tragedy must never be repeated.

For that, we must remain ever‑sharpened blades.”

His fist trembled as he spoke.

…Ah.

So it wasn’t “dedication.”

It was trauma.

“I get the situation.

But honestly… that approach is counterproductive.”

“C‑counter… productive…?”

“Yeah.

The demonfolk took heavy losses too, right?

So they probably see Felsen as a dangerous place.

What you’re dealing with now is likely just reconnaissance.”

I tossed a chip into my mouth and pointed toward the forest.

“And then you guys—fully armored, exhausted, paranoid—are stomping around the forest nonstop.

What do you think the demonfolk see?

‘Felsen is preparing to attack! We must strike first!’

You’re provoking a preemptive strike.”

Elishua’s eyes widened.

“Deterrence works because you stay calm and steady.

Running around in a panic only exposes your fear.

Right now, your behavior isn’t protecting peace—

it’s inviting war.”

Silence filled the living room.

My half‑baked analysis (stolen from military threads online) seemed to hit them hard.

(…Honestly, I just don’t want them clanking around my house all night.)

I remembered something my old boss once told me—

a famous organizational theory from a certain military strategist.

There are four types of people in an organization.

Right now, these two were becoming the classic “diligent fools”—

driven by trauma, thinking emotionally, exhausting themselves, and dragging the organization toward ruin.

Meanwhile, someone like me—

a man who hates moving and wants to stay home—

(…I’d rather be a “competent slacker.”

Minimal effort, maximum peace.

That’s what a real leader should aim for.)

“…Master.”

Elishua looked at me with trembling admiration.

“To perceive the balance of the world so deeply…

Forgive my boldness, but…

Have you served as a strategist for some great nation?

Surely you are a figure of historic renown…”

“No, I’m just a former office worker.

Ah—right, I never told you my name.”

I paused, and a mischievous idea came to mind.

A fake name was fine.

Something that *sounded* convincing to them.

“My name is… Zect.

Just ‘Zect.’”

Borrowed straight from the organizational theorist himself.

The name carried a strangely heavy weight.

“Zect…

So true wisdom is to command all without moving…”

Bartos practically slid off the sofa and knelt on the floor.

“This ‘Zect‑Style Defense Doctrine’—

we shall present it to Lord Gustav at once!

And we, too, shall become the ‘Silent Deterrence’ you desire!

First… we shall rest!”

“Yeah, sleep first.

Everything starts with sleep.”

I watched the two of them stagger out—exhausted, but oddly energized—

and sank deep into the sofa.

“Whew…

They won’t come back for a while.

And I’ve got a name now.

Perfect.”

“Meow. (Listen to him… calling himself a ‘competent slacker.’)”

Tama stared at me with half‑lidded eyes.

“What?

I *did* help maintain peace today.”

“Meow. (That’s just self‑justification.

…But ‘Zect’ does have a nice ring to it.)”

She turned away and began grooming her paw.