Season 3 chapter 79
The Mataenium Reactor
Kniya choked on his own saliva. Malesh's deadpan mask instantly cracked.
"Wait, Mataenium?" Kniya coughed, completely stunned. "The government literally just burns raw Mataenium in giant furnaces to generate basic grid electricity!"
"Exactly," the worker nodded casually, entirely ignoring their shock. "The federal government just wants to keep burning raw, traditional fuel like absolute cavemen. But instead of just burning it, my reactor actually processes it on a sub-thermal level. It is literally twenty times more energy-efficient than its actual burning usage."
"Twenty times?!" Salesh whispered, his jaw physically dropping.
"Yeah. The only main problem is that the reaction produces a massive amount of heavy sludge," the worker explained chillly. "I know exactly how to improve the filtration system and fix the sludge issue, but I literally didn't have the high-grade materials or the funding for that. I built the base prototype completely out of my own pocket funds, which I got by working double shifts at this factory and doing several other random tasks."
The Aristocratic Blockade
"Wait, this makes no logical sense," Salesh argued, stepping forward. "If you built a prototype that is twenty times more efficient than standard combustion, why wouldn't the government just acquire your patent and give you a massive job?! That is literally revolutionary!"
The worker let out a deeply exhausted, highly cynical chuckle.
"Because the government does not want to invest in this new technology," the worker explained, looking at Salesh like he was incredibly naïve. "The entire national energy grid is controlled by a handful of aristocratic energy lords. They own massive, sprawling Mataenium mines across the Republic. If the government adopts a reactor that is twenty times more efficient, the country will literally need to buy twenty times less fuel."
Malesh narrowed his dark eyes, the brutal corporate logic instantly clicking in his brain. "It would completely destroy their profit margins."
"Exactly," the worker nodded. "It will drastically reduce their sales. So these aristocratic lords actively block any kind of new technology from entering the market. They just want to keep selling raw dirt at a premium. There is nobody willing to employ me because I am a direct threat to their monopoly."
The Invitation
Salesh stared at him, his skepticism completely shattering into pure amazement.
"What the fuck?!" Salesh shouted loudly. "You built a highly advanced, monopoly-threatening energy reactor that outperforms the federal government… with spare change from a factory job?!"
"Yeah," the worker nodded, offering a chill, unapologetic shrug. "I don't think I had any other option. But if you don't believe me, come with me. I will show you. I literally have it sitting at my place."
Kniya instantly stepped forward, his corporate greed fully activating at the mention of a highly functional, unregulated power source that could bankrupt the aristocratic lords.
"Are you absolutely sure about this thing?" Kniya demanded, his eyes gleaming. "Do you really want to show us?"
"Yeah, it is not a big deal," the worker replied casually. "You can visit my place."
Kniya nodded, extending a hand. "At least tell me your name first. What is your actual name?"
The worker firmly shook Kniya's hand. "My name is Shuntesh Hawada."
"Nice to meet you, Shuntesh," Kniya grinned. "My name is Kniya Anderson. This deadpan idiot beside me is Malesh. The one who just kicked me is Filoska, and this guy completely losing his mind over your logic is Salesh."
Shuntesh gave them all a relaxed nod, throwing his custom Stone Assault Rifle over his shoulder.
"Nice to meet you all," Shuntesh said. "So, shall we go? My home is not very much far away from this place. We can just walk."
Without waiting for an answer, Shuntesh Hawada casually turned around and began walking down the dusty industrial road, leaving the four billionaires scrambling over the ruined scrap metal of their sedan to follow the most nonchalant genius in the entire Republic.
The Capitalist's Exit
Shuntesh Hawada threw his custom Stone Assault Rifle over his shoulder, turned his back on the group, and took exactly two casual steps toward the dusty road.
"Hey, hey, stop, wait a minute!" Kniya called out, holding his hand up to halt the researcher.
Kniya slowly pivoted, looking back at the rusted loading dock. The factory owner, still dripping with heavy gold chains, was lying on the filthy concrete, violently clutching his shattered kneecaps and groaning in a pathetic, high-pitched whimper.
Kniya's eyes narrowed into a look of absolute, unadulterated disgust.
"Hey, you bloated pig!" Kniya yelled aggressively, kicking a loose stone at the owner. "Why the fuck are you still lying here crying?! Get the fuck up and get lost from here right now before I test this guy's assault rifle on your skull!"
The factory owner's groans instantly hitched. Pure, unfiltered terror overrode his shattered legs. Completely intimidated by the insane corporate warlords standing in his courtyard, the owner scrambled frantically into the dirt, dragging himself up by a rusted barrel and hobbling wildly toward the back alleyways of his own factory, completely abandoning his shift.
Kniya smirked, thoroughly satisfied with the absolute clearance of the loading dock. He turned back to his best friend.
"Okay, Malesh, there is one thing," Kniya stated, dusting off his lapels. "I don't want this guy to walk all the way to his home. He is a genius researcher, not a street dog. Do we have any other choice? Did you call another car after Filoska's sedan got completely blown into scrap metal?"
Malesh smoothly adjusted his tailored cuffs, his deadpan baseline completely unfazed by the logistics.
"Well, Kniya, I obviously knew something like this would happen," Malesh droned flatly. "That is exactly why I already booked a secondary transport vehicle ten minutes ago."
Malesh turned his head, locking his dark eyes onto Filoska. She was standing near the smoking, twisted wreckage of her pristine corporate sedan, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was aggressively puffing out her cheeks, glaring at the sky, and letting out a highly furious, frustrated "Hmph!" "Filoska," Malesh offered calmly, pulling his secure transponder. "I will personally pay for the complete loss of the vehicle. Do not worry about that."
"Hmph!" Filoska huffed again, completely refusing to uncross her arms, though the promise of full reimbursement slightly lowered her murderous intent.
The Transport Logistics
A few minutes later, a heavy, armored six-seater corporate steam-SUV pulled into the factory courtyard, driven by a highly professional service driver.
Kniya looked at the SUV, then looked at the black cruiser motorcycle still idling near the gate. His brain immediately started calculating the seating arrangements with extreme, highly suspicious precision.
"Okay, look at this, Malesh," Kniya analyzed aloud, pointing his fingers. "It is a six-seater car. But still, how many people are we? There is you, me, Salesh, Filoska, and this guy, Shuntesh. That is five. Plus, there is one driver sitting in the front seat. That makes six exact bodies for the car. So who is going to take the bike back?"
Malesh stared at Kniya with a look of pure, soul-deep exhaustion. He saw right through the fake logistics.
"Okay, Kniya," Malesh deadpanned coldly. "I know exactly what you are doing. I know that you don't want me in this car, and I know that you just really love driving massive SUVs. Drop the act."
Malesh walked up to the driver's side window of the new SUV and tapped on the glass. "Hey. Get out. You are coming with me."
The confused service driver stepped out of the SUV. Malesh grabbed him by the collar, dragging him over to the black cruiser motorcycle and forcing him to sit on the back pillion. Malesh threw his leg over the bike, kicking the ignition.
"You drive the car, Kniya," Malesh sighed flatly over the roaring engine. "Just don't crash it into a fucking trench."
The Hidden Smile
Kniya grinned triumphantly, immediately jumping into the driver's seat of the massive SUV. Filoska claimed the passenger seat, still pouting aggressively, while Salesh and Shuntesh climbed into the back.
With Malesh leading the way on the heavy motorcycle, Kniya slammed the accelerator, and the convoy tore out of the industrial district.
Inside the quiet, air-conditioned cabin of the SUV, the atmosphere was a bizarre mix of corporate tension and absolute absurdity.
Filoska leaned her head against the window, watching the passing streets. As she glanced into the rearview mirror, her sharp eyes locked onto Shuntesh Hawada sitting in the back row. He was quietly looking down at his lap, gripping the barrel of his massive Stone Assault Rifle.
He was trying incredibly hard to maintain his desensitized, totally chill persona. But beneath the dirt and soot covering his face, Filoska noticed the faint, undeniable outline of a genuine, hidden smile.
For the first time in years, someone had actually stood up for him. Someone had looked at his research, acknowledged his intellect, and literally shot his abusive boss in the kneecaps. He was trying to hide the happiness, but Filoska saw it perfectly. Her frustrated scowl softened slightly, realizing that despite Kniya's absolute idiocy, they had actually done something right.