Kratos Rozenrio was convinced long ago he was the most hated man in the world—second only to his late boss, the world-conqueror Alfonso Marsh. Therefore he raised his eyebrows real high when the door opened to reveal his next patient.
“My oh my, they must be really desperate to send you here,” Kratos said, finding the whole situation amusing after the shock wore off. Here they were, a 2 meters giant dressed in lab coat and 150 cm pretty boy facing each other again as doctor and patient. If a fortune teller told Kratos of this development, he’d kill the poor fellow on the basis of bullshitting with him, the world-conqueror’s right hand man.
Commander Lionell Ashrain cooly shrugs the taunt off and went to sit on the chair reserved for Kratos’ most difficult patient before explaining himself.
“They think I will go back to my usual self if you aggravate me enough.”
“While I won’t deny that familiar situations can bring patients back to their old rhythm, I think something is very wrong if the savior of the world has to come to his arch-nemesis for counseling,” Kratos said gleefully. If there was one thing that didn’t change after his defeat, it was finding pleasure in taunting and jabbing Lionell. He felt some kind of achievement whenever the smaller man glared at him with those icy blue eyes like now.
“Thank you for your unneeded professional view. Can we just and get over this already?”
“Oh, but I already started. Did I aggravate you enough?”
Lionel’s eyes narrowed. He was probably thinking of some ways to put Kratos in his place without violating the standard POW treatment. Normal people would start to run away ASAP when Lionell got that look, but Kratos just grinned wider.
“That’s more like it. Now can you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Kratos sounded like a professional counselor just now, but Lionell was not fooled. He still answered Kratos though.
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“I can see that. Tell me something not obvious,” Kratos said, playing the strict, concerned doctor. Lionell sighed and decided to humor him.
“I don’t feel like doing anything.”
“Not even fucking your girlfriend?”
“Leave Natascha out of this, Rozenrio.”
“Sorry, but I need to know if your depression is so bad that you’re not willing to procreate anymore.”
“What? Do you prefer me going by the standard list of questions that do nothing but randomly poking patient’s heart with a heated pitchfork?”
Kratos could see two mini Lionells battling for the options behind the commander’s eyes.
“…No. You can continue.”
“Yes, sir,” Kratos said and mock saluted Lionell, earning a ‘what were they thinking when they decided to do this to me’ sigh from the black haired commander. Kratos took that as a sign of victory and went easy on him. The next questions were normal counseling questions he actually didn’t need to ask, but had to since he had to create the illusion of doing it the proper way to the people watching this session. Oh yes, nothing was private in Valkarazan Academy, especially if you were a POW counseling the savior of the world.
“Can we stop wasting time already?” Lionell asked, refusing to answer if he considered joining the dark side to burn the world. “You know what’s wrong with me. Just say it already.”
Kratos was disappointed to have his playtime cut short (he still hadn’t ask if Lionell thought Natascha was cheating!), but he didn’t show it.
“Yes, I know, but I don’t think it’s wise to tell you that. Your friends and subordinates won’t approve.”
Lionell’s eyes narrowed again and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. Kratos recognize those signs as Lionell entering commander mode.
“You giving diagnosis of my mental health is not going to cause you any harm,” Lionell said, more to the people watching behind the camera.
Kratos shrugged. “If you say so.” Bullshit time was over then. “Let me be frank, commander Lionell. There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re just tired like you claimed before.”
“So I’m wondering why your friends sent you here to fix your head instead of sending you to a much needed vacation,” Kratos interrupted, eyes locked on Lionell.
Lionell opened his mouth, trying to find an excuse, and then closed it when he realized he had none. Kratos fought the urge to glare at the camera at the upper corner of his office. So that’s how it was. Lionell’s friends actually understood about the commander’s condition and sent him here to have Kratos convince him. After all, what else could tear the desk-hugger commander off his beloved paperwork if not his arch-enemy telling him to take vacation?
A knock on the door stopped Kratos from his imaginary victory dance. The door opened slightly and the head of Lionell’s cousin, Valgan Ashrain, appeared. The handsome and incredibly popular guy was the infirmary’s only nurse as well as the pacifier for any battle brewing inside or outside Kratos’ office. Hence why he was here at this timing.
“Commander, your counseling time is up,” Valgan said.
There was still thirty minutes left, but both Kratos and Lionell pretended to not notice it. Better end it early before their exchange grew into something that needed an extraction team to solve.
“Make sure to take a long vacation, at least a week. If you can’t do that, go and slay some monsters for 24 hours per week to release pent up frustrations,” Kratos said before sending Lionell out.
Lionell nodded. “Thank you for the advice,” he said sincerely. Because their battles as arch-nemesis, they came to know the extent of each other’s skills and respect each other for it. Only in this aspect they agree with each other.
Kratos waited until the door close before stretching his body on his chair. He lifted up his left hand to stare at the leather wristband watch wrapped around it. It was the magical device that locked his combative ability. Very effective, for locking his ability that they knew of. As for the ones they didn’t know of…
“Huhuhu. He’s the savior of the world, and yet I’m happier than him,” he remarked loudly, just to piss the people behind the camera.
There was no change on the camera located on the upper corner of his office, but Kratos could imagine their expressions just fine.
Aah, the perks of being a villain. You could be an ass without raising any eyebrows.
Kratos never read his counseling request forms.