Season 3 chapter 96
The Win-Win Masterstroke
Malesh looked at Kniya. They had a massive, hidden problem. Mantouse Adeius wasn't going to wait three years for their 60 trillion credit debt to be repaid. They needed the full amount now.
Kniya's unhinged, brilliant corporate brain instantly shifted into overdrive. He smiled—a terrifying, highly calculating shark smile.
"Well, the thing is... okay," Kniya nodded slowly. "We can completely agree to this exact deal. You transfer us the first 35 trillion credits over the next two months. But... there is one other mandatory demand from our side to close this right now."
The HDO narrowed his eyes. "What demand?"
"We need capital for immediate industrial expansion," Kniya lied smoothly. "So, is it possible for you to immediately approve a corporate loan for us from the KNB today?"
Thukesh blinked, highly confused. The KNB was the largest state-backed bank in the Republic. "You want a loan? For how much?"
"Exactly 35 trillion credits. From the KNB. Approved today, at a very low interest rate," Kniya declared.
Before the officials could even protest the absurdity of taking out a loan from the government while actively selling a reactor to the government, Kniya leaned forward and unveiled his absolute masterstroke.
"Listen to me, because this is an absolute win-win for both sides," Kniya explained, tapping the mahogany table. "We are currently in the ninth month of the year. Here is how the mechanics work: You approve the 35 trillion credit KNB loan for Kavilson Steel today. Publicly, it completely saves the government's face because you are not openly handing us a massive chunk of your budget in a single day. On paper, it just looks like you are providing a standard industrial development loan to a private company."
The HDO's eyes widened as he realized exactly what Kniya was orchestrating.
"Then," Kniya grinned wickedly, "in the tenth and eleventh months, you pay us the actual 35 trillion credit payment for the reactor. And next year, instead of paying us the remaining 35 trillion out of your slow federal budget... the government simply assumes our debt and repays the KNB loan principal directly. You defer your actual budget spending, you save face publicly, and Kavilson Steel gets its liquid capital immediately. As for whatever minimal interest accrues on that low-interest KNB loan? We will personally pay the interest next year. How about this thing?"
It was a terrifyingly brilliant loophole. It was the perfect political cover.
Thukesh and the HDO just stared at Kniya, completely awestruck by the sheer, aggressive genius of his corporate restructuring.
"I... I think so I need some more time to discuss this with the Presidential Council," Thukesh stammered, entirely out of his depth.
The Midnight Signature
Thukesh and the HDO left the room for a third time.
The hours dragged on. The sun completely set over the capital, plunging the city into darkness, but the lights inside the DI'an Energy Department remained blazing. Kavilson Steel and the federal government were locked in an endless, grueling marathon of legal red tape, cross-referencing KNB loan laws, and drafting the monopoly contracts.
They had left Kavilson Steel at 7:00 AM and arrived at the government building at exactly 8:00 AM.
It was now exactly 12:00 AM. Midnight.
Finally, the heavy oak doors opened one last time. Thukesh and the HDO walked in, carrying a massive stack of freshly printed, federally stamped documents.
"The Presidential Council has officially agreed," the HDO announced, his voice hoarse from sixteen hours of non-stop negotiation. "They are finally having the deal. The 35 trillion credit KNB loan has been officially sanctioned and expedited. The first staggered payments of the remaining 35 trillion will begin transferring into Kavilson accounts in the tenth month."
Kniya and Malesh stood up. Their clothes were slightly ruffled after the massive sixteen-hour corporate battle, but their eyes were shining with absolute, undeniable victory.
Thukesh slid the documents across the mahogany table.
Without a single moment of hesitation, Kniya pulled an expensive fountain pen from his pocket and aggressively signed his name across the bottom line. Malesh smoothly took the pen next, signing his own name with deadpan, terrifying precision.
Thukesh and the HDO signed last.
"Gentlemen," Kniya grinned, extending his hand across the table. "You just bought yourselves a new era."
Two Months Earlier: The Unknown Port
The heavy, suffocating fog rolled across the docks of an uncharted, completely undocumented island. The massive iron hull of an unmarked cargo ship groaned against the violent crashing of the midnight waves.
On the docks, hundreds of laborers were frantically sprinting back and forth, loading massive, heavily reinforced wooden crates into the belly of the ship. Standing at the edge of the loading ramp was a tall, imposing man. His face was entirely concealed beneath the deep hood of a heavy trench coat, hiding his identity in the absolute shadows of the night.
"Do it quickly!" the mysterious leader ordered, his voice sharp and utterly devoid of panic. "This is our absolute last batch. We do not have much time left. Transfer the cargo immediately."
A subordinate, heavily armed and out of breath, ran up the wooden docks and stopped in front of the hooded man.
"Sir, the final crates are secured," the subordinate reported sharply. "Everything is almost ready, and we are prepared to move on your mark."
The hooded man looked up at the massive cargo ship, his concealed face unreadable. "Get in the ship. Let's depart from this port before the tide turns. And where is our convoy? Are the escort destroyers in position?"
"Sir, the protection squad is fully armed and holding formation," the subordinate confirmed, gesturing to the dark silhouettes of heavily armored, unmarked military warships idling in the foggy waters just beyond the docks. "Everything is ready. We are just waiting for your orders to move."
"Orders granted," the mysterious leader stated coldly. "Let us move."
The Dead Air
The scene shifted to the open ocean.
The massive cargo ship cut through the deep, churning waters, surrounded by a lethal protection squad of heavily armed escort ships. The hooded leader stood perfectly still on the upper deck, his trench coat blowing violently in the ocean wind as he stared out at the horizon.
They were officially sailing through the deep, contested waters of the Republic of DI.
Suddenly, a loud, violent electric pop echoed from the ship's bridge. The heavy, analog radar dishes on the mast violently sparked and ground to a complete halt. The mechanical hum of the radio transceivers instantly died, plunging the ship's communication grid into absolute silence.
The heavy iron doors of the bridge swung open, and the ship's Captain rushed out onto the deck, his face pale with sheer panic.
"Sir!" the Captain yelled over the roaring ocean wind. "Our radars just completely flatlined! The communication devices, the telegraph lines—everything has violently ceased working! We are completely blind in the water!"
Before the hooded man could even respond, the deafening, bone-chilling howl of mechanical warning sirens erupted from the escort ships.
WHRRRRR-WHRRRRR-WHRRRRR!
The entire crew on the main deck froze in absolute confusion. Sailors ran to the railings, frantically looking around the empty ocean.
"What is happening right now?!" a sailor yelled over the sirens. "Where is the threat?!"
Then, the clouds broke.
A deafening, terrifying roar echoed from the sky. Massive silhouettes tore through the cloud cover at breakneck speeds, leaving thick, swirling white contrails in their wake. The twin-engine thrusters of the advanced fighter jets burned with a blinding orange intensity against the dull, gray overcast. They didn't just fly past; they executed aggressive, highly coordinated banking maneuvers, forming a tight, inescapable aerial perimeter around the trapped convoy. The sheer sonic force of their engines physically rattled the heavy steel plates of the cargo ship. A sailor grabbed his heavy brass binoculars, aiming them up at the screaming engines. His blood ran completely cold.
"Wait a minute..." the sailor gasped, dropping the binoculars in pure terror. "Those are JS-36 fighters! How the fuck did the DI Military get our coordinates?! Why are federal warplanes flying directly above us?!"
Absolute chaos erupted on the deck. Armed guards frantically unslung their heavy rifles, sprinting wildly across the slippery metal surfaces of the cargo containers, taking up useless defensive positions against the aerial behemoths.
A massive, distorted voice boomed from the heavily amplified loudspeakers of a low-flying military aircraft, echoing like thunder across the ocean.
"Attention unidentified convoy! This is the DI'an Airforce - Unit 7601! You are currently under deep suspicion of smuggling a massive amount of illicit wealth! You are required to immediately cut your engines, suspend all maritime operations, and drop your anchors! Surrender your vessels for immediate federal inspection!"
The hooded leader didn't even flinch. He looked up at the military aircraft circling like vultures, his concealed eyes narrowing with absolute, ruthless defiance.
"Do not stop," the leader ordered coldly, his voice cutting through the panic of his crew. "Shoot them out of the sky."