Season 2 chapter 7
The Conglomerate and The Split
Date: February 1430
Location: The Executive Office, Antrious Hub
Kniya leaned back in his expensive leather chair, watching the chaos unfold on the telegraph ticker. The steel market was literally burning to the ground, and he looked incredibly satisfied.
"Now, bro, my journey is right here," Kniya declared, kicking his boots up onto the desk. "I am going to grow this company. I am going to convert this into a massive conglomerate or whatever the hell the corporate term is. I don't know the exact textbook definition, but yeah, this is going to be a huge fucking company."
Malesh stood by the window, doing the mental math of their current infrastructure.
"I need exact numbers," Malesh asked, turning around to face the desk. "Bro, how much amount did you actually spend out of your 50 billion credits just to start this entire empire?"
"I literally spent 10 billion credits just to make this thing work," Kniya said casually, as if 10 billion was pocket change. "And now I want a huge amount of profits from this. I can continue with this exact same pricing, or I can even reduce it further so the market crashes even more. I don't care. I am ready to crash every market in this world. We are going to be the absolute richest."
Malesh nodded, calculating the risk. "To manage a monopoly of that size, you cannot keep it as one single entity. The paperwork will cause a structural failure. You need divisions."
"I already fixed that," Kniya grinned, pulling out a freshly stamped organizational chart. "Kavilson Steel Limited now consists of three subsidiary companies. First is Kavilson Minings—they control the dirt, the excavators, and the extraction operations. Second is Kavilson Transportations—they own the private rail lines and the trains. And third is the main Kavilson Steel branch, which actually produces the steel in the factories, markets it, and ships it directly to the customers."
"A perfect three-pillar structure," Malesh noted. "You have completely isolated the liability. If a train derails, it only affects the transportation subsidiary, not the mining assets."
"Exactly," Kniya said. "I am locked in here. What is your next move?"
Malesh walked over to the desk and picked up his leather briefcase.
"Yeah, now it is my time to start my company," Malesh said. "But before I leave the country, we need to officially divide the joint assets we acquired from the Black Tooth mission. The two islands."
Kniya pulled out the property deeds for the two untracked islands Mantouse Adeius had given them.
"I will take the island with the vein of Fissluation," Kniya said, signing his name on the deed. "That mineral is pure energy."
"Logical," Malesh agreed, taking the second deed. "I will take the island with the Petroleum reserves. However, I am not going to extract from it yet. It is too isolated for a startup phase. I am going to keep it as an emergency backup reserve."
"So where are you going?" Kniya asked.
"I am going to a new country," Malesh said, checking his mechanical pocket watch. "I am taking the Continental Express out of the Seistain Railway Station tomorrow morning. I am going to build a mineral industry from the ground up."
"Good luck," Kniya laughed, tossing the rubber ball back at the ceiling. "Try not to beat up any civilians on the train."
"I make no promises regarding the general public," Malesh replied, walking out the door.
The Continental Railway
The first-class cabin of the Continental Express was supposed to be quiet. Malesh had specifically departed from the main Seistain Railway Station in the capital because the central hub offered the fastest, most direct luxury routes to the far northeast. He was heading to the distant country of Zhongwas to build his mineral empire.
He sat by the window, his notebook open, running logistical calculations.
If I purchase drilling equipment at standard retail, Malesh thought, his pen hovering over the paper, the startup overhead is going to bleed my initial capital by 14%. I need to find the Zhongwas equivalent of SuliBulli Construction. I refuse to pay full price for drill bits.
Suddenly, the heavy steam-train violently screeched.
The metal wheels locked up against the iron tracks, sending a horrible, high-pitched squeal through the cabin. Luggage flew out of the overhead racks. A man across the aisle spilled hot tea all over his lap. The train jerked forward once, twice, and then stopped completely.
A heavy silence fell over the cabin for exactly two seconds. Then, the shouting started.
"What is going on?!" a wealthy merchant yelled. "I have a schedule to keep!" another passenger screamed, hitting the wall.
A tired-looking conductor stepped into the cabin.
"The journey cannot be continued," the conductor announced loudly, trying to speak over the angry passengers. "All passengers are requested to move out at the station ahead. The rail line further north is totally broken down. We cannot pass."
The cabin erupted into absolute chaos. People were shouting, demanding refunds, and cursing the railway company.
Malesh slowly closed his notebook. He didn't shout. Shouting was an inefficient use of oxygen.
Look at these idiots, Malesh's internal monologue ran cold and analytical as he watched a grown man yell at the conductor. Screaming at a minimum-wage employee does not fix a broken rail line. The conductor does not control the rocks. This entire display of emotion is pointless.
Malesh grabbed his suitcase and stepped off the train. The heat hit him immediately. It was dry, suffocating, and smelled like baked dust.
He looked at the tiny, miserable wooden sign near the tracks: WELCOME TO SULWADIYA.
Sulwadiya, Malesh thought, wiping a bead of sweat from his neck. A transit country. A massive, useless stretch of sand and rocks that exists purely for trains to drive through. There is no economy here. Just heat and dirt.
The noise from the passengers complaining on the platform was giving him a headache.
I cannot stand here and listen to people cry about their schedules, Malesh decided, adjusting his grip on his suitcase. Total track break means whatever it might be—a rockslide, a collapsed bridge. The conductor's visual assessment is likely exaggerated. Let me walk towards that region and see the actual cause. If it's just debris, I can calculate exactly how many hours it will take a crew to clear it.
He turned his back on the noisy station and started walking north along the iron tracks.
Malesh walked for about two miles. The terrain of Sulwadiya was harsh. The ground was made of cracked yellow clay and jagged sandstone formations.
This country is a geographical failure, Malesh thought, his expensive leather shoes crunching against the gravel. No agriculture. No natural waterways. Just an endless oven. If I owned this land, I would sell it to the military for bomb testing. It is the only logical use for it.
He kept walking, keeping his eyes on the horizon, looking for the broken tracks.
Then, he saw it.
About a hundred meters off the main path, the rocky terrain suddenly dipped into a massive, natural canyon. The sun was hitting the layered sandstone walls perfectly, casting sharp, beautiful shadows across the canyon floor. Strange, twisted desert plants clung to the edges of the rock.
"Whoa," Malesh muttered, actually stopping in his tracks. "That looks... scenic."
It was a weirdly beautiful geological anomaly in the middle of a barren wasteland. Malesh, who usually only cared about concrete and profit margins, found himself stepping off the railway path to get a better look.
Maybe I can take a photograph of this, Malesh thought, walking toward the edge of the canyon. I can send it to Kniya and tell him his artificial reservoir in Sulwai looks like a puddle compared to actual geology.
He kept his eyes locked on the scenic canyon walls, stepping forward.
Because he was looking up, he did not look down.
He didn't notice the sharp, tiny gap hidden in the shadows of the sandstone right in front of him. It was a narrow ridge fault, barely a meter wide, completely obscured by the angle of the sun.
His right foot stepped into empty air.
"Wait—"
Gravity took over instantly. Malesh dropped his suitcase. He slipped straight through the narrow gap and fell.
He plummeted twelve feet down into the dark, scraping his shoulder against the rough sandstone walls. He hit the bottom of the pit hard, rolling onto his back to absorb the impact.
"Fuck!" Malesh shouted, his voice echoing in the small, enclosed cavern.
He lay there for a second, staring up at the tiny sliver of sunlight twelve feet above him. He checked his arms and legs. Nothing was broken. But his tailored suit was completely ruined, torn at the shoulder and covered in dust.
Why didn't I see that? Malesh thought, furious with himself as he sat up. I am a structural engineer. I look at ground faults for a living. I literally just walked into a hole because I was looking at a nice rock. Kniya is going to mock me for the next ten years.
He sighed, dusting off his knees in the dim light of the pit.
"Alright, how do I climb out of this literal shithole," Malesh muttered, putting his hands on the ground to push himself up.
His hand squished into something wet.
Malesh froze. The ground wasn't dry dirt. It was covered in a thick, sticky puddle.
He lifted his hand. It was coated in a dense, black sludge.
Instantly, a heavy, suffocating smell hit his nose. It smelled like sulfur, dead organic matter, and harsh chemicals.
Malesh's highly analytical brain stopped caring about his ruined suit. He stopped caring about the train. He stopped caring about the scenic canyon.
He rubbed the black sludge between his fingers. He felt the thick viscosity. He registered the toxic, unmistakable chemical odor.
This isn't mud, Malesh's internal monologue raced, the realization hitting him like a freight train. This is a natural seep. The pressure underground is so massive that the crude is literally forcing its way up through the sandstone faults and pooling inside these caves.
Malesh stood up in the dark, staring at his blackened hand.
Sulwadiya wasn't a barren, useless transit country. The surface was a lie. Underground, it was a massive, highly pressurized reservoir of unrefined petroleum.
Malesh let out a slow, dark laugh that echoed off the cave walls.
"I don't need to go to Zhongwas," Malesh whispered to the empty cavern. "I'm already here."