[The Abyssal Academy - The Principal's Office]
The three elite operatives closed the distance in a fraction of a second. Silas's blessed dagger thrust toward Victor's neck, while the other two aimed for his heart.
Victor didn't even stand up. He casually tapped the Tycoon's Ledger with his gold-nibbed pen.
BZZZT.
A localized, automated gravity well—the second step in Victor's custom security script—activated directly beneath the operatives' feet. The sheer, crushing gravitational force slammed all three zealots face-first into the mahogany floorboards, cracking the wood and pinning them completely.
"My ribs!" one of the operatives gasped, unable to lift his chin off the floor.
Silas struggled furiously against the invisible weight, his hand trembling inches from the Ledger on the desk. "You... you cannot use the artifact if we destroy it! The Kingdom will prevail!"
Silas managed to scrape his dagger against the cover of the black book, intending to slice it in half.
"I wouldn't worry about the hardware," Victor said smoothly, watching the dagger spark uselessly against the indestructible binding. "The Ledger is securely backed up to a decentralized cloud network. Furthermore, accessing the data requires two-factor biometric authentication. To you, it is just a very heavy paperweight."
The heavy oak doors clicked open. Seraphina walked in, her silver clipboard in hand, entirely unbothered by the red security lights.
"Intruders secured, Principal Thorne," she noted. "Shall I transfer them to the Elven Crystal Refinery?"
"Not yet. They have been occupying premium real estate in my executive office for exactly four minutes," Victor stood up, walking around the desk to look down at the crushed operatives. "We must properly onboard them into our CRM system."
Silas spat blood onto the floor. "CRM? What dark magic is that?!"
"Captive Resource Management," Victor smiled a cold, ruthless smile.
Victor slashed his pen across the glowing ledger. A golden piece of parchment materialized and floated down, landing directly in front of Silas's face.
"This is an automated Rent Receipt," Victor explained, adjusting his midnight-blue cuffs. "Because you entered my office without an appointment, you are legally classified as an unauthorized short-term commercial tenant. The current rate for executive office leasing is fifty thousand Gold per minute."
Silas stared at the golden receipt in absolute horror. Total Due: 200,000 Gold.
"Since you are insolvent, you are going to pay off this rent in the labor camps," Victor turned back to the window, watching the storm rage. "Seraphina. Confiscate their cloaking artifacts for reverse-engineering. Then, drop them in the mines. Give them pickaxes."
"At once, Sir," Seraphina smirked, grabbing Silas by the collar of his tactical gear.