Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit
Chapter 118 – Royal Pizza Delivery

Chapter 118 - Royal Pizza Delivery

I was the first one to speak, laying everything bare. I told the state prosecutor and Agent Feena the entire story—from how I discovered that the Red Meteor was actually Fei, to learning about Neil’s link to the Cosmic Tree that triggered the catastrophic Blackout Incident, all the way to how I recklessly orchestrated the infiltration of the Neo Terrestrial Reich’s headquarters here on Xyraxis.

The state prosecutor listened intently and raised no objections to my testimony. But Agent Feena, in her role as Officer-in-Charge of the KAWAII Bureau, was far less forgiving.

“Zaft Callahan!” she barked, her voice sharp enough to cut steel. “You’re hereby demoted to my personal coffee maker, with zero incentives for one week!”

“What the hell?!” I shouted. “The prosecutor said it was fine! That’s uncalled for, you drunkard old hag!”

“Two weeks!” she snapped, without even blinking.

I clenched my jaw and swallowed my pride, locking my lips shut before she could add another week to my sentence. My eyes darted toward Myrrh, silently pleading for her support—but she only smiled, that smug, infuriating smile. With her chin resting sassily on her hand, her eyes practically gleamed with the words, “You deserve it.”

Then it was Neil’s turn to speak. His testimony didn’t reveal anything I hadn’t already known. He recounted the origins of the HUSBANDOs in the Xyraxis Capital, the day the Neo Terrestrial Reich raided his lab under the guise of granting him "freedom," and how he ended up working with them right up until the Blackout Incident’s final moment.

Next, Fei stepped forward, her expression unreadable.

“Um… the Red Meteor is a codename used for the Xian Clan’s elite operatives and assassins—myself included,” Fei began, her voice steady but laced with guilt. “When the Xian Clan was prosecuted for human trafficking in our country, the Neo Terrestrial Reich intervened. They salvaged our finances, pulled strings, and buried the lawsuits that New China threw at us. In return, the clan swore allegiance. That’s why the Xian Clan is so deeply indebted to the NTR. We pledged to support their goals… including the dismantling of the Xyraxis government.”

The prosecutor’s gaze hardened. “And the murder of three Vanguard WAIFUs and four KAWAII Agents? Were you responsible for their deaths?”

Fei’s lips trembled before she pressed them into a firm line. She bit down, visibly holding back tears—or perhaps shame.

“…I am,” she admitted at last. “I engaged them in combat. Neil and Ismail had already hacked into their support units’ WEEB Systems, leaving them defenseless. I fought only to disable their Frame Units… but I didn’t pull the trigger. The one who executed them was—”

“Ismail,” Neil interrupted, his voice cold and without hesitation. “He gunned them down like they were nothing. Like wild dogs.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the confession pressing down on everyone present. The prosecutor slowly leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled beneath her chin.

“This changes everything,” she murmured. “This intelligence might finally give us the leverage we need to track down the Neo Terrestrial Reich—not just here in Xyraxis, but back on Earth as well. Perhaps even in their satellite headquarters across the outer planets.”

“Uh, Prosecutor Harrison,” Agent Feena interjected, raising her hand with the poise of a seasoned officer—though her stiff smile betrayed a hint of performative formality. “Let’s not forget the terms of the plea deal. Mister Neil Orbeus and Miss Fei Xian have confessed to their crimes and acknowledged their ties with the Neo Terrestrial Reich. More importantly, their intel directly led to the capture of Ismail Arondight.”

“I’m well aware,” the state prosecutor replied, her voice calm and measured. She turned to Fei and Neil, her expression softening. “All charges against you will be dropped. You are now free from your obligations to the Neo Terrestrial Reich. Effective immediately, you are granted full state protection as key witnesses. But we will need more info about Eldlich Schreiber- the founder of the terrorist group.”

Fei and Neil exchanged a look—half disbelief, half gratitude. A quiet smile bloomed on both their faces. Then, as if by instinct, the four of us glanced at each other in turn. The tension that had gripped the room finally cracked and gave way to laughter.

“Hahaha.”

“Well then,” Prosecutor Harrison said, closing her thick folder with a quiet thud and powering down the holographic recorder. “It’s been a pleasure interviewing you all. The Kaiserin will be most pleased to hear of your cooperation and bravery. Agent Feena, don’t forget to see that these young adults are properly rewarded.”

“Of course,” Feena said with a nod. Then, with a sideways smirk, she added, “Except for Zaft, of course.”

“Oh, come on! Can you stop already, you drunkard old hag?!” I cried, throwing my arms up in exasperation.

“Hahaha,” the prosecutor chuckled, amused by our banter as she opened the exit door. “Have a great night, ladies and gentlemen.”

The door closed behind her with a gentle hiss, leaving us in a rare moment of peace—wounded, but not broken. For the first time in a long while, the war seemed… far away.

“Thank you, Prosecutor Harrison!” Agent Feena called out, waving cheerfully with that trademark mix of authority and mischief. Her smile lingered even after the door closed behind the prosecutor with a soft pneumatic hiss.

With her gone, silence settled over the room—quiet, but not uncomfortable. Just the five of us now. I glanced at the wall clock. Six o’clock. I hadn’t realized the interview dragged on for hours. It felt like time had both crawled and sprinted, a blur of tension and confessions.

“Haaah~!” Myrrh suddenly exhaled behind me and—before I could react—wrapped her arms around me in a surprise back hug. Her soft chest pressed against the back of my head like plush cushions, and my brain short-circuited for a moment.

“That was exhausting,” she sighed dramatically.

“You didn’t even say a word,” I grumbled, cheeks flushing with a furious blush.

“My mere presence elevated the entire atmosphere,” she said, flicking her long greenish-blonde ponytail with a flair only she could manage. “My charisma, beauty, and status alone got you off the hook. As the main heroine who slayed the final boss, I’ve got considerable pull with both KAWAII and the State Prosecutor’s Office. They practically treat me like I am my mother now.”

“Ohhh? In that case, we definitely owe you, Myrrh!” Fei clapped her hands, a grin blooming on her face.

“Yeah, thanks for saving our asses, Myrrh!” Neil added, bowing in exaggerated gratitude like a theater actor after curtain call.

“Don’t mention it.” Myrrh stepped away from me with a self-satisfied smirk, planting her hands on her hips and puffing her chest like she had just claimed victory on a battlefield. “It’s just a basic skill.”

I stared at her. Then at Fei. Then at Neil. A dull ache pulsed in my head.

“What the hell,” I muttered under my breath. “Am I the only one in this room thinking straight?”

Agent Feena clapped her hands together with an authoritative smile, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, kids. Since it’s already late and you all didn’t completely screw up today—how about I treat you to an extra-large, overload Sammelplatz Pizza? Extra cheese, my treat.”

“Oh my!” Myrrh gasped, her cheeks flushing with delight as she pressed her palms to her face. “We’ll definitely take that offer, Agent Feena!”

“Thought so.” Feena pulled out her phone, casually tapping away. “I’ll just order through their app and… there. Done.”

“Yipee!” Myrrh cheered, clapping like a four-year-old who just won a coloring contest.

Meanwhile, I could only muster a tight, mechanical smile. Everyone seemed to be taking turns being rude to me today, and I was getting dangerously close to snapping.

Don’t get me wrong—Sammelplatz Pizza is objectively delicious. It’s greasy, overloaded, and probably violates three different health codes. But I’ve read this kind of story before: when corrupt agencies or companies reward overworked employees with a cheap pizza party instead of, you know, real compensation.

I mean, I literally risked my life in the last operation. I gambled everything—my plan to scam the NTR with a fake million-dollar deal, my reputation, my damn existence. And what do I get?

Pizza. With extra toppings.

Agent Feena could’ve at least taken us to a five-star restaurant. Hell, I’d even settle for a wild disco bar party—something with flashing lights, bad decisions, and cocktails that taste like regret. But a pizza party? That’s corporate cruelty disguised as carbs.

Still, I didn’t say anything. I’ve already lost two weeks’ worth of allowance thanks to Feena’s comedic dictatorship, and the last thing I needed was another penalty for “talking back with attitude.” So, I just sighed through my nose and kept my mouth shut.

If only the NTR scam had actually worked, I thought bitterly. I’d be somewhere else by now. Maybe a yacht. Maybe a rooftop jacuzzi. Not sitting here, being patronized with mozzarella.

<><><>

Five minutes later, the doorbell rang, followed by a chirpy voice through the intercom.

“Pizza delivery!”

“Huh?” Agent Feena tilted her head. “That voice sounds… oddly familiar.”

“Hey, Zaft,” Myrrh said without even looking up, flicking her wrist like royalty dismissing a servant. “Do the honors and get the pizza, will you?”

“Yes, bitch,” I muttered under my breath, each syllable dripping with disgust as I pushed myself up from the couch. My legs felt heavy, and my dignity was already on life support. As I trudged toward the door, I noticed Agent Feena casually tailing behind me, her brows slightly furrowed in suspicion.

When I swung the door open, I blinked. Standing there was a petite girl with brown and pink twin-toned hair tucked under a red Sammelplatz Pizza cap. She wore the standard uniform—bright red shirt, grease-resistant apron, and the unmistakable logo of a dripping slice emblazoned across her chest. Her eyes, an emerald green, sparkled like she’d just walked out of a magical girl anime.

“Here’s your order, sir!” she said cheerfully, holding out a box so large it looked like it could double as a tactical shield.

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied flatly, taking the monster-sized pizza from her arms. “Sorry though—no tip.”

“Huh? Wait, why not?” she asked, tilting her head like a confused puppy.

I groaned, my soul already collapsing under the weight of existence. “I’m kinda broke right now. Lost a million-dollar scam operation, and my so-called ‘employer’ stripped me of two weeks’ worth of incentives.”

“Oh…” Her cheerful demeanor faltered just a bit, like a balloon slowly deflating.

From behind me, I heard Agent Feena’s voice, sharp with realization.

“Wait a second…”

“Goodbye,” I said with the finality of someone closing a chapter in a very underwhelming book. I pressed the button beside the doorframe, and the sleek, automatic door began to slide shut with a satisfying hiss.

But just before it could seal, Agent Feena suddenly shoved her hand forward, catching the edge with surprising urgency.

“Wait!” she barked, forcing the door open again with a metallic groan.

I turned, confused, as she stepped forward, eyes wide like she had just seen a ghost in a pizza cap. She stared hard at the delivery girl—no, burned a hole through her with her gaze. Her voice dropped, shaking with disbelief.

“Y-Your Excellency…? What are you doing here? And what’s with that ridiculous getup?!”

The girl blinked, then broke into a sweet, familiar smile. “Oh, Big Sis Feena! I’m glad to see you again.” She gave a little wave with her gloved hand. “Is Myrrh Alicent still here?”

My brain short-circuited.

“Huh? You know Myrrh?” I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at the short girl who had just handed me a 28-inch cholesterol wheel. “What, is she your childhood friend or something?”

Agent Feena whirled on me like I’d just insulted royalty—which, apparently, I had.

“Zaft!” she cried, visibly trembling. “Show some respect! You’re talking to the Kaiserin!”

My grip on the pizza box slipped.

“…I’m sorry, what now?”

“Zaft, you idiot! The pizza!” Myrrh screamed.

Time slowed.

My grip on the box gave way completely, my hands still frozen in disbelief at the whole Kaiserin-in-disguise revelation. The massive Sammelplatz pizza—our greasy, over-topped salvation—began its slow-motion descent toward the cold, uncaring floor.

But then—like a yellow-green comet—Myrrh moved.

She launched herself from across the room with the grace of a ballerina and the desperation of a hungry soldier. Her body twisted mid-air, her frilly white skirt fluttering behind her like she was auditioning for a magical girl anime. With uncanny precision, she extended her arms and slid in under the falling box, catching it perfectly just inches from catastrophe.

The pizza was safe.

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