It's not, for K anyway, that it's normalized; he's always vigilant for any sign that they're being lied to, as he expects that they are. It's just that there's only so much he can do about it either way.

He quirks another smile, and after a brief moment of surprise when Eggsy offers his hand - humans usually don't try to touch him as casually as they do each other, and apparently a year outside of Los Angeles hasn't acclimated him to this yet - he accepts it and shakes once, carefully.

"KD6-3.7," he offers in return, kay dee six dash three dot seven. But anticipating how most people respond he adds, "Most just call me K. And it's alright.
First day is a lot."