Kevin awoke at noon.
A golden shaft of sunlight slipped through the enormous stained-glass windows of his new throne room. The air was fragrant with incense, the banners proudly displayed the crest of the kingdom, and there he was—His Majesty Kevin the Newly Crowned—lying sideways on the throne like it was a recliner, one slipper dangling precariously from his foot.
"Your Majesty!" a trembling servant whispered urgently. "The foreign envoys have arrived!"
Kevin groaned.
His inner monologue kicked in immediately:
Foreign envoys? Why the hell would I want to meet them? I've only been king for, what, two days? Don't they know I still haven't finished exploring the castle pantry?
But he knew enough from anime and manhwa to understand one thing: in these fantasy kingdoms, "envoys" usually meant trouble. They wanted gold, soldiers, or worse—work.
Absolutely unacceptable.
The Grand Entrance
The throne room doors swung open with a grand creak. In came three envoys from neighboring nations:
A knight in shining armor who oozed arrogance.
A robed mage with an expression that screamed "I think I'm smarter than everyone else."
A diplomat noble with a powdered wig and a nose so high he looked like he was smelling the ceiling.
They strutted in, looking around like they owned the place.
Kevin sat up just enough to look presentable, plastered on his signature diabolical smirk, and waved lazily.
"Welcome, my good freel—ehm, friends. What brings such… prestigious guests to my humble kingdom?"
The noble envoy sniffed. "We come to demand proof of your nation's strength, new king. Rumors say you are… inexperienced."
Kevin's smirk widened.
Inexperienced? Buddy, I'm a literal couch potato who got truck-kun'd into this world. You have no idea how low the bar really is.
The knight stepped forward. "Show us your discipline, your armies, your productivity! Otherwise, we cannot take your kingdom seriously."
Kevin's brain: Armies? Productivity? Discipline? Yeah, I have none of those. But… wait a second.
He rose from the throne dramatically, his robe trailing behind him like he'd planned it. His eyes gleamed with the same evil smugness Lloyd uses when tricking people into digging ditches.
The Free Labor Scam, Round 2
"Envoys," Kevin said solemnly, "you insult me. Do you think I would show you discipline? No. Here, in my kingdom, we live it."
The mage scoffed. "And how do you propose to prove that?"
Kevin raised a finger to the sky. "Simple. You three shall personally join my people in the sacred act of labor. For only by working alongside the common folk can you understand the true miracle of my reign!"
The knight blinked.
The noble envoy sputtered.
The mage frowned suspiciously.
Kevin, inwardly: Oh god, oh god, please fall for it. Please don't call me out. I literally made that up on the spot.
The noble scoffed. "Preposterous! We are envoys of powerful nations. Why should we debase ourselves?"
Kevin leaned forward, his smirk turning positively evil. "Oh? Then you admit you are weaker than my citizens? That you fear physical effort? That in front of me, Kevin the Great, you are… cowards?"
Their faces twitched.
The knight clenched his fists.
The mage gritted his teeth.
The noble turned red with rage.
"Very well!" the knight snapped. "I shall not be called a coward! Show us this 'labor' of yours, and we shall prove our superiority."
Kevin almost burst out laughing. Hook, line, and sinker.
Cue the "Miracle of Free Labor"
Ten minutes later, the three envoys—noble clothes, shiny armor, wizard robes and all—were outside in the fields.
The peasants stared wide-eyed as the mighty envoys of foreign kingdoms… were digging ditches. Sweating. Covered in mud. Struggling to lift shovels like they were wielding legendary swords.
Kevin sat comfortably under a parasol, sipping juice out of a goblet with a straw. His grin stretched ear to ear.
"Marvelous!" he shouted encouragingly. "Look at the unity! The discipline! The sheer spirit of cooperation!"
The peasants, seeing envoys do manual labor, got motivated too. Soon the whole field was alive with activity—everyone working twice as hard, laughing at the sight of pompous nobles huffing and puffing in the dirt.
Kevin leaned back. All according to smirk.
The Twist
Hours later, the envoys collapsed, exhausted. The knight's armor was caked in mud, the mage's robe was torn, and the noble's wig had fallen into a puddle.
They glared up at Kevin.
"This… proves… nothing," the mage wheezed.
Kevin stood, looking regal as ever. "On the contrary. It proves everything. You came to test my kingdom's strength—yet even you were humbled by our sacred labor. You see now: under my rule, we turn even arrogance into productivity. That is the miracle of free labor."
The peasants cheered. "Long live the Couch Potato King!"
The envoys, too proud to admit they'd been scammed, forced themselves to nod. "Y-Yes. Truly… impressive…"
Kevin's smirk glowed like a final boss cutscene.
That's right, fools. You just got tricked into being part of my construction crew. And the best part? You did it for free.
That night, Kevin collapsed back on his throne, laughing until tears streamed down his face.
"Ha… hahaha… I did it again. I made diplomats dig holes for me. If this keeps up, I'll never have to lift a finger again."
Somewhere in the shadows, his aides whispered to each other:
"Truly… His Majesty is a genius."
"A mastermind…"
"A visionary…"
Kevin, overhearing: Or maybe I'm just a guy who didn't want to get off the couch. But hey—if they're dumb enough to fall for it, who am I to stop them?