Season 2 chapter 38
The Literary Debate
Year: 1451
Location: Kavilson Executive Tower, DR7 Road, Seistain
It had been four years since Salesh bribed his way into the Presidency of Kavilson Steel, and the corporate empire was running smoother—and more corruptly—than ever.
Inside the newly renovated executive office on DR7 Road, the afternoon was dragging by. Kniya Anderson was sitting behind his desk, mindlessly tossing a heavy brass paperweight into the air.
On the expensive leather sofa across the room, Malesh Bulwadi was completely absorbed in a brightly colored paperback book. He hadn't blinked or spoken in forty-five minutes.
Kniya caught the paperweight and squinted across the room, trying to read the ridiculous, comic-style font on the cover of Malesh's book.
"What the fuck are you even reading?" Kniya asked, completely disgusted.
Malesh didn't look up from the page. He simply adjusted his grip on the book.
"I am reading That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Drug Dealer in DI," Malesh stated flatly, his voice entirely deadpan.
Kniya stared at him for three seconds. Then, he burst out laughing, slamming his hand against the desk.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Kniya howled. "What kind of literal shit title is that?! You are a multi-trillionaire who controls the global oil supply, and you are sitting in my office reading a light novel about a reincarnated meth cook?! That is literal fucking trash, bro! What the fuck!"
Malesh slowly lowered the book, glaring at Kniya with cold, absolute offense.
"You lack the intellectual capacity to understand the logistical brilliance of this narrative," Malesh defended, tapping the cover of the book. "In this story, the drug dealer is highly calculated and mathematically flawless. He develops a massive, untraceable subterranean distribution network that completely bypasses federal tariffs. He scales his illicit enterprise to the point where he is pulling in trillions of credits in pure, untaxed profit. The supply chain management alone is a masterpiece. The story writer is absolutely God, in my opinion."
"The story writer is absolutely shit!" Kniya cackled, leaning back in his chair. "He probably lives in his mom's basement and doesn't even know how to file a tax return, let alone launder a trillion credits! You're reading garbage!"
"Oh?" Malesh raised an eyebrow, his deadpan mask slipping into a highly judgmental sneer. "So my story writer is shit, but yours is a literary genius? Need I remind you that just four years ago, I had to watch you read some complete, absolute shit story called That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Demon Lord? You were literally reading about a cartoon monster crushing people with magic! Do not lecture me on literary prestige, you fucking hypocrite."
The Real Estate Bubble
"Fuck you, oil boy!" Kniya snapped, pointing his pen at the door. "And speaking of which, get the fuck out of my office! Why are you always in here?! Malesh Energy Limited literally has massive, highly expensive corporate offices in Seistain and across the entire fucking country! Why are you presiding in my headquarters on a Tuesday afternoon?!"
Malesh smoothly opened his book back up to page 412. "The air conditioning in my tower is currently two degrees too cold. I am staying here. I am not going to do that."
"Okay, fine," Kniya growled, a predatory, capitalist smirk suddenly creeping onto his face. "If you want to live in this office so badly, I am proposing a deal to you."
Malesh paused, his dark eyes shifting suspiciously toward Kniya. "What kind of deal?"
"Buy this fucking building," Kniya offered casually, kicking his boots up onto the desk. "You like the DR7 Road location so much? Buy the whole tower from me. Then you can sit on that couch and read your drug-dealer fantasy novel all day long without me yelling at you."
Malesh closed his book. He analyzed the structural integrity of the office, the prime location on DR7 Road, and the massive parking garage downstairs.
"Acceptable," Malesh agreed, pulling a gold pen from his pocket. "I am ready to buy that. Show me the papers."
Kniya aggressively slid a thick, legally binding real estate contract across the desk.
Malesh stood up, walked over, and picked up the document. His eyes rapidly scanned the bureaucratic jargon, completely unbothered until his gaze hit the final acquisition price listed at the bottom of the page.
Malesh froze. He slowly looked up at Kniya, pure, unadulterated outrage burning in his eyes.
"Ten trillion credits?" Malesh asked, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper.
"Give or take," Kniya grinned, popping a piece of mint gum into his mouth.
"This is fucking inflated!" Malesh yelled, slamming the document back down on the desk. "This is not a market valuation! You are literally inflating the asset price and actively creating a massive, highly illegal bubble in the real estate market! This single building is not worth ten trillion credits!"
"I am not doing that thing," Kniya lied smoothly, spreading his hands in mock innocence. "It's just prime real estate, bro. Supply and demand. If you want to buy this building and read your little book in peace, just pay the fucking amount."
"Fuck you, Kniya," Malesh stated with absolute, lethal precision. "I am not going to do that thing. I am not crazy enough to fall for a manufactured price gouge. Ten trillion credits is worth more than the total market valuation of three of your secondary companies combined! It is statistical extortion!"
"Then get off my couch!" Kniya yelled back.
The New President
Before Malesh could pull out his checkbook to argue the math further, the executive doors swung open.
Salesh walked in. The former bruised trillionare had completely settled into his role as President of Kavilson Steel over the last four years. He was wearing an incredibly sharp, tailored suit—a massive upgrade from his cheap, bloody street clothes—but he still carried the same chaotic, unbothered energy.
"Shut the fuck up, both of you," Salesh announced, walking straight over to the private executive bar and pouring himself a glass of Mango Juice.
"What do you want, Sallu Balu?" Kniya mocked, using the fake name he had officially registered him under four years ago.
Salesh ignored the insult, taking a sip of his drink and looking at the two of them.
"The national election cycle just officially ended ten minutes ago," Salesh stated casually, dropping a massive bombshell into the room. "The final votes from the outer districts were tallied. A new guy just got sworn in as the President of the Republic of DI."
Kniya stopped chewing his gum.
Malesh slowly turned away from the real estate contract, his sociopathic business instincts instantly locking onto the news.
Whenever a new politician took the highest seat in the country, it meant one of two things: either they were already bought and paid for by Kniya and Malesh, or they were about to be a massive, highly annoying obstacle that needed to be violently removed.
"Who?" Kniya demanded, his voice dropping its joking tone completely.
The Democratic Narrative
"I think so the guy just bribed the election and got the chance to become the leader of the country," Kniya scoffed, crossing his arms over his simple blue shirt. "It is democracy, and in our fucking nation, this means the democracy. Bribe the country, win the elections. Fuck you, everyone. This is their actual narrative."
"It is a mathematically predictable system," Malesh agreed flatly from the sofa.
Kniya turned his attention back to Salesh. Ever since the rigged interview four years ago, Kniya had been looking for a reason to interrogate his chaotic corporate President.
"Speaking of bribes," Kniya said, narrowing his eyes. "You were telling me during your interview that you would be able to earn much higher amounts than your salary by using the bribe money and commissions. So tell me, Sallu Balu. How much have you actually earned by exploiting my company?"
Salesh leaned against the water cooler, a deeply proud, arrogant smirk spreading across his face.
"It's not much," Salesh boasted. "But I was able to earn 100 million credits last month in pure, untraceable kickbacks. And my personal best record is 150 million credits in a single month."
"Fuck you, Salesh," Kniya glared, pointing a warning finger at him. "If I find you, and if I find any of the documents that is related against you, I am definitely going to suspend you and basically cancel all your deals. The thing you are doing right now is away from my eyes. And you know, as a corrupt government official in the company, I have to close my eyes against the corruption that is going on beside my eyes! But if you leave a paper trail, I will end you."
The Novel Heist
Salesh just laughed, completely ignoring the threat.
"Okay, so I am earning a lot of it," Salesh shrugged, tossing his paper cup in the trash. He looked at the single Demon Lord novel sitting on Kniya's desk. "You know, Kniya, you had a lot of those stupid reincarnation novels in your private bookshelf. Like, hundreds of them."
Kniya's protective instincts instantly flared. He sat up straight. "Yeah? And? I collect them. They are imported."
"Well, I sold them all," Salesh stated happily.
The executive suite went completely dead silent.
"What?" Kniya whispered.
"Yeah, me and Malesh were doing the thing on the last Sunday," Salesh explained cheerfully, gesturing toward Malesh on the couch. "We broke into your private collection, boxed them all up, and sold them to a street vendor. We really got a huge amount of money. You know how much we got?"
Kniya's face flushed a violent, terrifying shade of red. He gripped the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white.
"How much..." Kniya growled, his voice trembling with sheer, unadulterated fury. "How much you fucking idiots got by selling my fucking precious novels?!"
"We got a fucking hundred credits!" Salesh cheered, looking incredibly proud of his business acumen. "It was a huge amount! We split it fifty-fifty!"
Malesh didn't look up from his own book, but he slowly nodded in agreement. "It was a highly profitable Sunday afternoon."
The Shotgun Therapy
"You fucking trillionaire parasites!" Kniya exploded, completely losing his mind. "You own forty-six percent of the fourth largest conglomerate in the world! You have trillions of credits! And you stole my comic novels to make fifty fucking credits each?!"
"It's about the hustle," Salesh grinned.
"You did a really horrible crime!" Kniya roared, slamming his fists onto the desk. "And now I am even reducing your salary from 500 credits per month to 100 credits per month! And also, it is ensured that I am increasing the security and intelligence network over your corruption! I am going to throttle your kickbacks to ensure that you do less amount of corruption, and your total income is further reduced so that you feel the pain that I'm feeling right now, you idiot!"
Salesh looked mildly annoyed. "That is corporate overreach."
"And your wages!" Kniya continued screaming, his neck veins bulging. "Now you are earning hourly wages! If you are not working for even one hour, I am going to cut your wages! And from the next month, your base salary is a hundred fucking credits!"
Kniya was still practically vibrating with rage. He looked around the room, grabbed his heavy-gauge shotgun from under his desk, and aggressively racked the slide.
He didn't shoot the ceiling this time. Over the last four years, Kavilson Steel had bought a massive, completely empty piece of dirt land right next to the main building. Kniya violently kicked his office window open, pointed the barrel down at the empty dirt lot, and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The gunshot echoed off the surrounding skyscrapers, blowing a massive crater into the empty dirt below.
Kniya stood there, breathing heavily, the smoking shotgun resting on the windowsill. He rubbed his face.
"Ah, this technique is the best to reduce anger," Kniya muttered exhausted. He stared at the dirt crater. "But now... this is also not working. I am still fucking pissed."
Salesh crossed his arms, entirely unbothered by the gunfire. "Okay, you are going to do that, and cut my wages? Then I am also going to expand my network, and I am going to do all more bribing. I will bribe the new security team you hire to watch me."
Malesh finally closed his book with a sharp snap.
"Okay, okay," Malesh sighed, sounding deeply exhausted by the sheer volume of screaming in the room. "Can you guys stop talking about bribes all day. Can't we even just talk about something normal business-related? We are always talking about the bribery and the things like that. It is mathematically repetitive."
Malesh stood up, smoothing down his dragon-themed tie.
"We got to know that the new president was elected," Malesh instructed flatly. "Let's switch on the TV and read the news about the thing. We need to know whose strings we are pulling next."