Filler
The Corporate Metallurgy Argument
"Let me systematically explain the scenario to you," Malesh deadpanned, casually spitting a small amount of blood onto the floor but maintaining his perfect, robotic composure.
Malesh pointed a bloody finger toward the center of the room. "That tree right there literally transmuted into a fucking human being. Then, a medieval swordsman appeared completely out of nowhere and used a glowing magical sword."
Malesh took a deep, exhausted breath, his anger returning. "But more importantly, Kniya, your manufacturing standards are an absolute joke. I was punched through three buildings because the armored SUV broke perfectly in half. I highly suspect that Kavilson Steel is actively mixing cheap, local steel into the premium alloy batches. Your metallurgy is a disgrace."
Kniya stared at Malesh. His brain completely failed to process the data dump about magical trees and teleporting novel monsters, but his absolute capitalist ego instantly latched onto the insult against his company.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Kniya roared, pointing back at Malesh. "My steel is much better than your fucking dark, parasitic crude oil, you fucking idiot! My steel is flawless! Kavilson Steel is the backbone of the Republic!"
"Why the fuck are you comparing two totally different things?!" Salesh yelled, immediately intervening and waving his hands. "You are arguing about completely different market sectors!"
"Exactly!" Filoska groaned, violently rubbing her temples in pure exasperation. "One is an energy mineral resource, and the other one is a fucking industrial and infrastructural backbone! What the fuck is this argument?! We are in the middle of a magical warzone!"
"Crude oil is statistically more vital to the global economy than raw steel!" Malesh argued back, still sitting on the floor with Silvisa in his arms, refusing to lose the debate.
"You literally dig up black sludge from the dirt!" Kniya shrieked. "I build the modern world, you parasite!"
The Peasant Fund
While the billionaires violently screamed at each other about commodity markets, the swordsman and the Ninth One stared at them in absolute, bewildered silence.
Kniya finally looked back over at the two magical warriors. His brain still couldn't comprehend the magic, so he immediately defaulted to his standard sociological worldview: Anyone wearing weird, outdated clothes was just incredibly poor.
"Whatever!" Kniya scoffed, reaching deep into the inner pockets of his tailored coat. He pulled out three massive, thick bundles of high-denomination DI'an credit notes.
"Take this, you poor idiots!" Kniya yelled, violently throwing the heavy bundles of cash directly into the air. Hundreds of crisp bills fluttered down over the rubble like a corporate rainstorm. "I think you guys desperately need money! That is exactly why you are still living in the medieval age and fighting with outdated metal sticks! Go buy yourselves some tailored suits and a fucking gun!"
The swordsman didn't even look at the falling money. He let a hundred-credit bill bounce harmlessly off his armored shoulder. He gripped his glowing broadsword with both hands and turned to look at the arrogant tree-guy.
"Okay. This is getting out of hand," the swordsman stated coldly, completely ignoring Kniya's capitalist charity. He pointed his blade toward the monster, which was currently ripping itself out of the concrete wall. "I think we should do a combined attack."
"I do not take orders from a peasant," the Ninth One scoffed, raising his hand as his skin began to harden into thick, indestructible bark. "But I will assist, purely to end this annoyance."
The Ultimate Corporate Finisher
The towering fart monster ripped itself completely out of the concrete foundation, roaring with furious, regenerated power.
The medieval swordsman and the arrogant tree-guy, the Ninth One, stood side-by-side in the rubble. Despite their mutual hatred, they both recognized that this demon required absolute destruction.
"Get ready!" the swordsman yelled, raising his glowing broadsword high above his head. The magical energy surrounding the blade began to violently spiral, creating a blinding vortex of pure, ancient light. He swung the sword downward, screaming the name of his ultimate, legendary technique in agonizing, cinematic slow-motion:
"D I M E N S I O N A L... S L A S H... S O U L... B R E A K E R!"
A colossal, screen-shattering wave of divine energy ripped across the asphalt.
Next to him, the Ninth One raised his hands, gathering an immense, terrifying sphere of raw, natural magical power. The energy crackled with devastating intensity. Everyone held their breath, waiting to hear the ancient, legendary title of the tree-man's ultimate spell.
The Ninth One violently threw his hands forward and screamed:
"FUCK 59!"
Kniya, Malesh, Salesh, and Filoska instantly went completely, entirely dead silent.
The two massive magical attacks collided perfectly, merging into an apocalyptic beam of absolute destruction that slammed directly into the monster.
VWOOOOOOOSH!
There was no explosion. The sheer, overwhelming power of the Dimensional Slash Soul Breaker combined with Fuck 59 completely and instantly vaporized the twelve-foot demon. The beast didn't even have time to scream before its entire body was erased into a fine, sparkling dust that blew harmlessly away in the wind.
The threat was totally defeated. The industrial lot was quiet.
Kniya and Malesh, however, were not celebrating. They were staring at the Ninth One with pure, unfiltered corporate disgust.
"What the actual fuck was that?" Kniya demanded, aggressively breaking the silence. "Are you kidding me? 'Fuck 59'? You possess god-like magical powers and you name your ultimate finisher like a randomly asked email password?!"
"It is an absolute branding disaster," Malesh agreed flatly, still sitting in the rubble. "If you are going to scream an attack name before obliterating a target, you need to monetize the audio space. You are leaving trillions of credits in free advertising on the table."
"Exactly!" Kniya yelled, gesturing wildly. "You should have named your attack the Kavilson Steel Premium Alloy Strike! Or the Malesh Energy Tax Evasion Beam! That is how you promote a brand!"
The Ninth One slowly turned his head, looking at the billionaires like they were biological defects.
"I am going back now," the Ninth One stated arrogantly, completely ignoring their marketing advice. "I do not have the time to listen to this."
"Wait a second," the swordsman commanded, his eyes narrowing.
Without warning, the swordsman violently threw his glowing broadsword directly at the Ninth One's back. The magical blade spun through the air like a lethal buzzsaw.
CLANG!
The blade hit the Ninth One's back, but instead of piercing his flesh, it bounced off with a dull, heavy thud, as if it had just hit an indestructible block of solid titanium wood. The sword clattered uselessly onto the asphalt.
The Ninth One didn't even look back. The air around him warped, and he instantly teleported away, vanishing completely.
The swordsman stared at his fallen sword, instantly confused and deeply embarrassed. "Okay. Whatever is that," the swordsman mumbled, jogging over to pick up his weapon. "I am also going back."
With a flash of light, the medieval knight also vanished, leaving the four corporate billionaires completely alone in the ruins of the Seistain Hub.
The HR Nightmare
Filoska and Salesh came sprinting through the rubble toward Malesh, who was still holding Silvisa tightly against his blood-stained, shredded suit.
"Malesh, now you can leave her onto the ground," Filoska sighed, crossing her arms and looking down at them like a disappointed mother.
"Yeah, Malesh," Salesh smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. "I know that you are just trying to flirt with her, but actually, you should leave her. Holding an employee for this long is definitely a payroll violation."
Filoska whipped her head around to glare at Kniya. "I told Kniya too many times to move the car faster! But we were so late that we were not able to see the main thing! We missed the entire romantic climax!"
Malesh's eye began to twitch. The blood streaming down his forehead seemed to boil. His robotic, deadpan composure finally, violently snapped.
"What the fuck are you even saying?!" Malesh roared, his voice echoing off the destroyed factories. "Are you all medically insane?! You literally just saw a twelve-foot fart monster! A fucking medieval fantasy came to real life and punched me through three concrete buildings! And still, you are blaming me?! I was not doing the things you were expecting me to do! You fucking idiots! What the fuck are you assuming?!"
Malesh gently but quickly set Silvisa down on her feet, standing up and pointing a furious finger at his business partners.
"It was literally not the scenario!" Malesh shrieked, totally losing his mind. "You are still making a joke of me without no reason! Fuck you guys! Fuck you all!"
Silvisa smoothed out her skirt, her face burning a violent, brilliant shade of red.
"Thank you, sir," Silvisa whispered, blushing heavily and refusing to make eye contact.
Oh my god, Silvisa thought, a wave of deep, magical romance chemistry flooding her brain. He is acting so incredibly defensive just to protect my honor. The way he yelled at them... he is just like a brooding, emotionally unavailable romantic hero masking his true feelings for me.
"Let's go today," Kniya declared, dusting off his coat and completely ignoring Malesh's mental breakdown. "I think we had enough training for today. It is more than enough. Now, I think so I need to appoint another officer other than Malesh to train her tomorrow, because I absolutely do not want another fantasy war interrupting my industrial workflow."
Malesh took a deep breath, trying to suppress his skyrocketing blood pressure. He looked around at the absolute, apocalyptic devastation of the sector.
"We literally destroyed the highway, bro," Malesh pointed out flatly. "And we destroyed multiple warehouses and buildings all around it. Who is going to pay for that infrastructural damage?"
Kniya froze, his capitalist instincts instantly overriding everything else. He looked at the massive craters, the shattered glass, and the destroyed water tower.
"This is a serious concern," Kniya whispered, his eyes widening. "Let's move away right now, so that the government would think that it was a massive terrorist attack. Run to the car! Flee!"
The Getaway Mockery
The four executives and the deeply confused Production Head sprinted to Salesh's heavy steam-car. Salesh jumped into the driver's seat, slamming the accelerator and peeling out of the industrial sector, fleeing the scene of the magical crime.
Inside the heavily armored van, the atmosphere was incredibly tense. Malesh was sitting in the back, covered in blood and industrial dust, radiating pure, murderous silence. Silvisa was sitting next to him, her face still bright pink.
Kniya, riding shotgun, turned around in his seat, a massive, utterly obnoxious grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, Silvisa, do not fear!" Kniya mocked, pitching his voice into a deep, dramatic whisper. "I am the dark and mysterious CEO! I will protect you from the flatulence demons with my premium tailored suit!"
"Did you calculate the statistical probability of love at first sight, Malesh?" Salesh cackled from the driver's seat, looking in the rearview mirror. "Or were you too busy measuring the tensile strength of her romance?"
"I am going to have to draft an entirely new HR waiver for this," Filoska sighed dramatically from the back corner, pulling out her clipboard. "Form 404: 'Caught out of mid-air by a brooding billionaire.' Do you want Kavilson Steel to cater the wedding, Silvisa? We offer a great discount on iron-plated wedding cakes."
"He probably held her extra tight just to monitor her biological heart rate!" Kniya laughed hysterically, slapping his knee. "Pure efficiency! No wasted intimacy!"
"I highly suspect he was going to offer her a customized dragon-themed engagement ring," Salesh added, taking a sharp turn. "Because standard diamonds are just too local for Malesh Energy!"
Malesh's jaw was clenched so tightly he thought his teeth might shatter. He stared straight ahead, his eyes completely hollow, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a response.
Silvisa gripped her leather clipboard, her face burning hotter with every single joke, completely paralyzed by the sheer, unhinged bullying happening inside the multi-billion-credit executive van.
"You guys are deeply, statistically immature," Malesh finally muttered, his voice a flat, deadpan monotone of pure despair. "I hate all of you."
"Aww, he's shy!" Kniya cheered, completely ignoring him as they sped back toward the Seistain Hub.