Season 1 chapter 7
The Confrontation
Knorwin Klove was sitting comfortably behind a giant carved oak desk. He was casually pouring himself a glass of amber liquid, staring out the window at the city. When the heavy doors violently slammed against the walls, he jumped entirely out of his chair. His drink splashed all over his white silk sleeves.
"What the fuck?" Klove stared in shock. He took in the two eleven-year-old boys standing in the center of his office. They were completely covered in sewer slime and dried blood, but they were both pointing military rifles directly at his face.
"Surprise, you fat, corrupt piece of dog shit," Kniya spat, keeping his gun perfectly steady.
Klove's eyes went wide with terror. "You brats from the woods? How the fuck did you get in here? Guards!"
"Shut your fucking pig mouth and sit the fuck down, Klove!" Kniya roared. The sheer, unhinged authority in his voice made the General physically freeze in his tracks. "Your guards are bleeding out in the hallway. And if you make one more fucking sound, I will blow your fat head off and make sure the President gets your embezzled bank statements before your blood even dries!"
Kniya marched straight up to the desk and violently slammed the original bank transfer notes onto the polished wood.
Klove looked down. His face turned from red with anger to a sickly pale color. He recognized the official stamps and his own account numbers.
"This is a forgery," Klove stammered, his voice shaking. "You are lying."
"Is it?" Kniya leaned right over the desk, his eyes burning with pure hatred. "I have a telegraph set up on a clockwork timer, you dumb bastard. If I don't go back and reset it, this entire file broadcasts to every station in the country. The President hates a thief who gets caught. He will hang your fat ass just to keep his own hands looking clean. You are replaceable. You are fucking nothing."
The Literary Debate
Klove sat there, his chest heaving as he stared at the papers and the weapons pointed at him. He couldn't believe the words coming out of an eleven-year-old's mouth.
"What do you want?" Klove whispered, his hands shaking violently.
Kniya smirked. He turned his head slightly and looked at his business partner.
"Hey, Malesh," Kniya said casually, totally ignoring the terrified General for a second. "Remember your book idea from the park? Bribe: The Essentials of Life? Well, I think my book works much better in this position. My book is Blackmail: The Part of Life. Look at this. Bribing requires us to spend our own money. Blackmail is completely free. We just owned this bastard without spending a single credit."
Malesh adjusted his dirty collar, his face a perfect deadpan void.
"You are completely right, Kniya," Malesh stated flatly. "The profit margin on blackmail is absolute because the initial investment is zero. Your book concept is highly superior to mine. It is a much better business model."
Kniya turned his arrogant grin back to Klove. "See? Even the logic guy agrees. Now we are talking business. I have conditions. And if you miss even one, I let the timer run out and watch you swing from a rope."
The Conditions
Kniya leaned forward, his eyes cold and entirely serious.
"First," Kniya began, "You call off every single fucking soldier right now. You put out a radio broadcast stating the terrorist threat has been fully neutralized. No more checkpoints, no more searchlights, and no more posters of our faces on the street. If I see one grey-coat looking for us after tonight, I will let the timer hit zero."
Klove swallowed hard, nodding his head slowly.
"Second," Kniya continued, "That officer we shot in the forest? You are going to bury that story completely. You will issue an official administrative report saying he is a negligent dumbass who accidentally misfired his own weapon while cleaning it in the barracks. He gets stripped of his rank, he gets fired, and he disappears permanently."
"That will ruin his life," Klove muttered weakly.
"Who gives a single fuck?" Kniya snapped. "Better his life than yours, right? Now, Third. My parents. And Malesh's parents. You are going to send your highest-ranking lapdog right now and tell them there was a massive clerical error."
Kniya's voice softened just a fraction, making it sound infinitely more dangerous. "You tell them we did absolutely nothing wrong. You tell them we were actually helping the military with a special youth initiative or some other bullshit lie you are good at making. You clear our names completely. They need to believe their kids are still the perfect students they sent to school this morning."
"And finally," Malesh stepped forward, keeping his rifle raised. "We require exactly eighty thousand credits a month for each of us, General. It is a fair trade. We get our student lives back, and you get to keep your head attached to your shoulders. Honestly, you are getting the better end of the deal."
"Fine," Klove whispered hoarsely. "I will issue the orders. Just stop the timer."
The Bloodbath
Kniya stood up straight and tall. "I will stop the timer once the official radio broadcast hits the airwaves. Let's go, bro. We have school tomorrow."
They turned their backs on the General, walking toward the heavy mahogany doors with the absolute swagger of winners.
Klove sat quietly in the shadows. He watched them reach the door. Just as Kniya's fingers gripped the brass handle, Klove spoke up, his voice cold and sharp.
"You kids are smart," Klove said, slowly leaning back in his chair. "But you are still just kids. You think a timer is a shield? A timer is just a clock. And clocks can be stopped if you have the right key."
Kniya stopped. He turned around slowly, his eyes narrowing into angry slits. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Klove didn't bother to answer. He simply reached under the desk and pressed a hidden electronic buzzer.
The heavy mahogany doors were violently kicked inward from the outside. Four huge guards burst into the office. They were the General's personal interrogators, holding heavy rubber truncheons and jagged iron pliers.
Klove stood up, slamming his fist onto the desk. "Grab them! Break their knees!"
Kniya and Malesh didn't panic. They didn't beg.
They just pulled the triggers.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The deafening roar of the heavy military rifles completely shattered the quiet of the office. Kniya and Malesh opened fire immediately, unleashing a merciless hail of lead at point-blank range. The heavy, armor-piercing bullets tore straight through the four massive interrogators. The guards didn't even have time to swing their rubber sticks before they were violently thrown backward, collapsing dead onto the expensive silk rug. Thick, dark blood instantly began pooling across the floor.
Kniya lowered his smoking rifle, throwing his head back and laughing maniacally.
"You brought rubber sticks to a fucking gunfight?!" Kniya cackled, stepping over the bleeding corpses. "Are you absolutely fucking retarded, Klove?!"
The Escape
Suddenly, loud, mechanical alarm sirens began wailing throughout the entire building. The deafening gunshots had alerted the entire sector.
Malesh checked his pocket watch, his face completely deadpan despite the carnage.
"Kniya, the noise of those gunshots has compromised our position," Malesh stated flatly. "There are hundreds of armed troops rushing up the stairs right now. We cannot hold off an entire army with two rifles. We need to run."
Kniya sprinted around the desk, grabbed Klove by his expensive collar, and violently shoved the smoking, hot barrel of the rifle directly into the General's mouth.
"Make the fucking broadcast right now, you fat piece of shit!" Kniya screamed, pure murder in his eyes. "Call off the army and clear our names on the radio right this second, or I will blow your brains all over this expensive wall!"
Klove, weeping hysterically and trembling in sheer terror, grabbed the radio transmitter on his desk. Choking on his own tears, he barked the immediate orders to his commanders to cease the hunt and clear the boys' names completely.
The moment the broadcast went through, Kniya pulled the gun out of Klove's mouth and shoved him to the floor.
"Thanks for the money, bitch," Kniya spat.
Kniya and Malesh didn't wait around. They sprinted out of the office, dodging past the dead bodies and disappearing into the dark maintenance shafts to escape just as the sound of heavy military boots flooded the hallway behind them.
The Escape
Suddenly, loud, mechanical alarm sirens began wailing throughout the entire building. The deafening gunshots had alerted the entire sector.
Malesh checked his pocket watch, his face completely deadpan despite the carnage around them.
"Kniya, the noise of those gunshots has compromised our position," Malesh stated flatly. "There are thousands of armed troops rushing up the stairs right now. We cannot hold off an entire army with two rifles. We need to run."
Klove crawled backward away from the dead guards, his face covered in cold sweat. Suddenly, he threw his head back and let out a loud, completely psychopathic laugh.
"You fucking brats are dead!" Klove cackled, looking entirely unhinged as the sirens blared. "You are never going to get out of this building! I have thousands of troops in this sector! They are going to shoot you full of holes before you even reach the ground floor!"
Kniya didn't panic. He just slung the heavy rifle over his shoulder and stared down at the General with pure, vulgar disgust.
"If you are taking us down, we will also take you down, you fat piece of shit," Kniya sneered coldly. "If your troops kill us right now, nobody is going back to reset that telegraph timer. If we die in these hallways, your bank secrets broadcast to the whole country, and you hang from a rope tomorrow morning."
Without wasting another word, Kniya and Malesh turned and sprinted out of the office. They dodged past the bleeding bodies and disappeared into the dark maintenance shafts to escape, just as the loud sound of heavy military boots flooded the hallway behind them.