"Shadow-sama is simply too important, he can't waste his time on such petty, mundane things," and other lies to tell yourself.

At some point, Cid had a revelation.

It was, after being born into a world of magic, the biggest sea change he had undergone.

He wasn't just LARPing. He had actually accrued a clandestine organization with the power and sway to send the entire world trembling, and he hadn't even tried.

As far as he could tell, it was best if he didn't actually try? He had gotten this far thanks to bullshit luck, competent subordinates, and loosey-goosey orders which said subordinates always spun in the best way possible.

Admittedly, he had trouble internalizing that at first. His first thought was that he would have to work hard to meet those great expectations, instead of, you know, realizing that he was clearly blessed by almighty Author-sama. Wouldn't trying too hard to fit himself into that role just cause failure of the system?

(It was like… laissez faire economics, or something. French for 'no touchy'.)

Now, a man with more scruples might have fallen into a serious case of impostor syndrome. Cid doesn't even know what impostor syndrome means.

Really, being an Eminence in Shadow was quite exhausting. Nevermind that he had never known that he actually was one until quite recently, he deserved a break. And Cid's aforementioned lack of anything that might even be mistaken for scruples meant that he had precisely zero issues with milking it.

After taking a few moments to concoct some properly mysterious sounding statements- "When the world is in repose, so is the shadow, my dear," and "Without rest, dulled senses could send us stumbling out of the shadow", yadda yadda- he went to relax. Eminently.

Checking out their base of operations was a pleasant surprise. Firstly, there was the decor, which appealed to his sensibilities, even if it was thoroughly modern, by this world's standards. It could be better, but it was workable.

There were also a whole lot of girls around. Eminences in Shadow did not worry about silly things like workplace discrimination. If Alpha's recruiting had an overwhelmingly female skew, that was her prerogative. They were all astoundingly loyal. It felt good to be a boss, Cid would admit.

This was something to look forward to when he retired. (Well, a true Eminence in Shadow never truly left his role behind, but he could enjoy the finer things.) A nice tasteful mansion, tended after by a bunch of loyal aides…

He could just sit in the sun and watch them tend to the plants. It was nice. Soothing. At least, until one of them inevitably noticed him. "Oh, Shadow-sama! Do you need something?"

What he needed was for them to leave him to his silent contemplation! But she… Cid couldn't remember what number she was assigned, and honestly he probably should have been concerned that these girls went by numbers. Maybe that was why she seemed so eager to please? Honestly, turning her away would probably feel like kicking a puppy.

And he was kind of hungry. So he asked for lunch. She shot away like he was starving to death.

Really,if you thought about it, it was a break for them too. Cooking was a relatively low-intensity activity, right? It was practically a vacation from… intense business stuff.

Number 321 would have been more calm if she was asked to cook a meal for God themself. Shadow-sama had asked for a meal. From her.

...

It had to be some brilliant scheme, right? Maybe recuperation from one of his secretive missions?

(The rest of the fic would be more and more cope as they attempt to rationalize Shadow being a deadbeat.)