Season 3 chapter 67
The Medical Guarantee
The elderly lead surgeon—still lazily working his jaw around a massive wad of chewing gum—strolled out into the corridor alongside his highly alert assistant. Trailing closely behind them, walking entirely unassisted under the harsh hallway lights, were Salesh and Filoska.
Filoska's shoulder was tightly bound in clean white bandages beneath her tailored jacket, but her sharp eyes gleamed with immense relief. Salesh looked pale but thoroughly steady on his tattered boots.
The bubblegum surgeon lazily threw his hands out toward the two recovering patients, presenting them to the billionaires like a tired shopkeeper handing over repaired goods.
"See?" the doctor announced smoothly, popping a small bubble. "I explicitly told you my psychological methods work perfectly. Now you can clearly see they can run, they can dance, they can fight, and whatever else you want them to do. Completely healed up. Take them out of my hallway."
Kniya instantly tossed his crumpled juice box into a bin, jumping up with immense corporate authority.
"Excellent!" Kniya declared loudly, grinning at his surviving core team while keeping his master details strictly vague in front of the medical staff. "Perfect timing, guys. We sorted out the logistics, and the master plan is actively moving. Let's get the hell out of this sterile hellhole. Come on, Malesh, let's go straight to the car."
Kniya smoothly pivoted on his heel, aggressively marching toward the glass exit lobby.
Malesh didn't move a single inch. He stood perfectly still on the polished floorboards, his hands resting deep inside his pockets as his unyielding deadpan gaze locked onto his business partner's retreating back.
"Kniya," Malesh droned flatly, cutting straight through the exit momentum. "You forgot one incredibly basic thing."
Kniya paused mid-stride, glancing back over his shoulder with genuine, whiny confusion. "What thing?"
"The literal fucking fees of the fucking hospital," Malesh deadpanned coldly. "The massive itemized surgical bill currently sitting at the front desk."
Kniya blinked blankly, his baseline street-level entitlement instantly overriding his billionaire status. He shamelessly waved a hand toward his best friend.
"Oh. Right," Kniya dismissed nonchalantly. "Okay, yeah, Malesh, pay that thing off."
Malesh slowly closed his eyes, drawing in a long, incredibly deep breath of absolute, soul-deep exhaustion. He adjusted his bespoke cuffs, locking a lethal, unblinking glare onto the Managing Director of Anderson Conglomerates.
"Ah, you fucking poor Kniya," Malesh stated ruthlessly, his voice steady and loaded with uncompromising financial superiority. "Thoroughly pathetic. A supposed global industry leader acting high and mighty, but relying entirely on my wallet just to clear a standard hospital tab. Fine. I am paying the bill."
Salesh let out a loud, immediate snort of laughter, leaning against the reception desk while Filoska simply rolled her eyes, thoroughly desensitized to the absolute madness of their corporate partnership.
With uncompromising deadpan precision, Malesh marched up to the counter, pulled his secure transponder, and cleanly paid off the final balance required to release their team.
The Sovereign Confession
The heavy, discreetly armored private steam-sedan merged seamlessly onto the desolate industrial highway, leaving the pristine gates of the Seistain emergency ward entirely behind.
Inside the soundproofed cabin, the atmosphere was thick with lingering exhaustion. Salesh and Filoska sat in the plush rear seating, their posture stiff as they favored their recovering, heavily bandaged shoulders. Up front, Malesh forcefully shifted the heavy gears, his dark eyes locked straight onto the dusty asphalt ahead.
Filoska leaned forward slightly, resting her uninjured arm against the back of the front command deck. She knew the master strategy perfectly. She had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them in the blistering heat of the Antovian desert when the GLEB operative explicitly directed them to buy back the scorched earth of every religious town to cut off the Royal Family's narrative.
"Alright, drop the silence," Filoska instructed sharply, her executive baseline taking over. "We are physically clear of the state wards, and our core team is intact. But let us address the immediate elephant in the vehicle. The GLEB operative's real estate invoice was a flat thirty trillion credits. With Kavilson Steel offline and Malesh Energy's international refineries bleeding out from the purges, our corporate treasuries are entirely dry. How exactly did we source the liquid capital to execute the buyout?"
Kniya glanced back over his shoulder from the passenger seat, popping a fresh piece of mint gum into his mouth. A massive, immensely smug smirk spread across his face.
"We sourced it flawlessly, Filoska," Kniya boasted proudly. "Because Malesh and I just took a slight, highly confidential escrow advance directly from Mantouse Adeius. The entire liquid wire of thirty trillion credits has officially landed in our primary holding accounts."
For a fraction of a second, genuine relief washed over the back seat. Securing the impossible sum meant the mission could actually proceed.
"Oh, thank God," Salesh sighed heavily, slouching back into the leather cushions. "I thought we were going to have to fundraise. So what are the standard margins? Did he take secondary equity in our domestic shipping fleets?"
"No equity," Kniya waved off nonchalantly. "Just a clean one hundred percent compound interest rate per annum. And if we don't pay back the compounding balance in exactly one calendar year, Mantouse gets to legally claim absolutely anything he wants from our inventory. Open-ended fill-in-the-blanks contract. Total administrative flexibility."
The Financial Extortion
Salesh instantly choked on his own breath, violently coughing against the tinted window while Filoska's jaw literally dropped in pure, unadulterated economic horror.
"A one hundred percent compound interest rate?!" Filoska shrieked at the top of her lungs, completely losing her executive composure. "Are you two completely out of your fucking minds?! Kniya, you did the most idiotic thing in your entire life!"
"It is literal financial suicide!" Salesh roared, aggressively grabbing the back of Kniya's seat. "Combined, our actual physical company assets have depreciated to a valuation of approximately eighteen trillion credits! And you took an unbacked liquid advance of thirty trillion with a one hundred percent compounding interest penalty?! Do you have any idea how fast compound interest multiplies a multi-trillion principal?! We are actively driving a vehicle owned by Mantouse Adeius!"
Kniya's smug CEO persona instantly vanished. He whipped his entire body around in the passenger seat, his face flushing bright red with defensive, whiny rage as he pointed a trembling finger back at them.
"What other options did I have?!" Kniya screamed, his voice echoing loudly inside the secure cabin. "Tell me right now! What else options do I had?! We absolutely needed those funds to purchase the sacred dirt before the state purges it, and there was zero alternative on the board! I was literally stressed about it day and night! My blood pressure was skyrocketing!"
Kniya aggressively gestured toward Salesh's faded, tattered shirt.
"And what could you realistically contribute to the escrow, Salesh?!" Kniya shrieked mockingly. "Could you drop thirty trillion liquid credits out of your pocket right now?! No! Do you think any Banker would give us that much amount of fucking loan ? Because absolutely no traditional underwriter in this country was willing to hand over that scale of liquid cash for absolutely no commercial reason! Do you think a standard bank looks at a corporate application that says 'we want to buy thirty obliterated towns for basic charity' and just authorizes the wire?! No! They laugh you straight out of the lobby!"
"You don't secure a highly classified real estate buyout by handing a blank compound-execution warrant to Mantouse Adeius!" Filoska argued fiercely, rubbing her temples.
"Do you understand the literal math, Kniya?!" Filoska yelled, her voice completely dropping its usual aristocratic control. "In six months, the interest alone will completely liquidate our international holding accounts! In nine months, Mantouse will legally own every single steel refinery we built! You didn't just mortgage the company, you mortgaged our actual physical lives to a madman!"
"She is absolutely right, Kniya!" Salesh added, his voice cracking with pure, unfiltered panic. "You are so obsessed with playing the grand savior that you completely blinded yourself to the absolute financial reality of the contract! We are going to end up as literal slaves in Mantouse's underground bunkers just to pay off the interest!"
"You should have consulted us!" Filoska shrieked, aggressively slamming her hand against the leather seat. "We are a board of directors, not your personal collateral! You literally handed over the entire Kavilson Steel empire to the most dangerous man in the country just because you panicked!"
"We could have found another underwriter! We could have liquidated the eastern transport fleets!" Salesh shouted, his face flushed pure red. "But no, you just sign a blank check to Mantouse Adeius and expect us to applaud you for it! You ruined us, Kniya!"
For the first time in his life, Kniya didn't yell back. His jaw tightened, and he slowly turned his head away, staring blankly at the passing industrial sprawl outside the passenger window. A heavy, suffocating silence swallowed his usual arrogant baseline. He felt completely isolated. He had literally sacrificed his entire financial future to save the mission, and now his own core circle was tearing him apart for it. He didn't have any other option, but the words still hit him like physical blows. He just sat there, absolutely silent, absorbing their anger.
Salesh paused mid-breath, his chest heaving as he looked at Kniya's unusually defeated, broken posture. Filoska bit her lip, the harsh echo of her own screaming fading into the quiet cabin. The raw truth was that Kniya had secured the money when absolutely nobody else could, and their relentless shouting was entirely unfair to the massive burden he had just taken on his own shoulders.
"Look... Kniya," Salesh sighed heavily, his anger melting into genuine guilt. "I'm... I shouldn't have said it like that. I know you did it to keep those religious towns from burning. We know you didn't have an option. I am sorry."
"We are just terrified, Kniya," Filoska added softly, completely dropping her aggressive posture. "We know you took the hardest hit for all of us. I am sorry for yelling at you."
"It was our absolute final strategic maneuver," Malesh deadpanned coldly, cutting straight through the tension without taking his eyes off the highway. "The corporate overhead is severe, but the capital is secured. Do not lecture the command deck while we are actively traversing sovereign sectors."
Filoska let out a long, deeply exhausted groan, crossing her arms tightly as she slumped back against the leather seating. She stared out the tinted window at the passing industrial sprawl, trying to process the insurmountable debt hanging over their survival.
"I just want to know where we are going," Filoska sighed flatly. "You didn't tell us."
Kniya slowly turned back around, adjusting his tailored coat as he looked straight out the reinforced windshield.
"We are going to meet the priestess," Kniya stated smoothly. "That would be the continuation of our plan."