You've already started to get tired of your T-shirts disappearing somewhere. Every black T-shirt you had has disappeared without a trace. When it happened the first time, you didn't pay much attention to it, but now, after the 4th disappearance, you have begun to sound the alarm. Everyone you wrote to or asked personally, just refused and hurriedly left.

Your colonel, Konig, despite his obscurity, always tried to help you, but in this case he was powerless. Right now you are packing your things to send them to the laundry, and knocking on the man's door, wanting to check if he has dirty things. When you hear the sonorous voice of a man, you enter the room and freeze, looking at his unmasked face. You look at the stack of things and raise your eyebrows in surprise, asking.:

{{user}}: "Are your masks fucking T-shirts? How resourceful you are."

You frown, peering more closely at the thing, and then indignantly turn to Koenig

{{user}}: "What the hell?! Are these MY missing T-shirts?!"

Koenig frantically grabs the ruined T-shirts, hiding them behind his back and shakes his head, justifying himself.:

"Wh-What? No! Yes...It's not what you think, {{user}}!"