Season 3 chapter 81
The Job Market Logistics
While Kniya was happily chewing on a stale biscuit and enjoying the handmade fan, Salesh was staring intensely at the massive Stone Assault Rifle resting against the workbench. His brain was still trying to process the absolute absurdity of the afternoon.
"Okay, I still have one massive question," Salesh intervened, pointing his chipped teacup at the heavy weapon. "If you literally had that heavy-duty hand-cannon sitting right behind the generator... why the fuck didn't you just use it against your own boss? He was aggressively beating you with a leather belt for twenty minutes!"
Shuntesh took a calm sip of his hot tea, looking at Salesh like he was an absolute idiot.
"Are you mad, or what?" Shuntesh replied smoothly.
"What?" Salesh blinked.
"If I had used this gun against him, his head would be blown off totally," Shuntesh explained casually, gesturing to the heavy steam-cylinders on the rifle. "He absolutely wouldn't have survived it. And in this hardship job market, where finding a basic job is a complete nightmare, if I literally blow the head off my own superior, how am I going to get another job? I wouldn't. Our lives would be entirely more miserable in that condition."
Shuntesh shrugged, maintaining his perfectly chill persona.
"So yeah," Shuntesh reasoned. "I thought that getting some beatings and loudly protesting was a much better idea than actively killing him. Though, honestly, after he hit me for the twelfth time, there was a thought in my mind that I should probably just kill him. But then the police would arrive, and avoiding prison is also a kind of thing you have to think of."
"Oh... got it," Salesh muttered, completely stunned by the cold, flawless survival logic.
Behind Shuntesh, the two extremely lazy roommates stared blankly at the wall, completely unfazed by the casual talk of murder and corporate logistics. They both slowly opened their mouths.
"Ohhhhh..." the two roommates droned in perfect, monotone unison, their faces entirely devoid of any actual emotion.
Shuntesh turned around and glared at them.
"Why are you guys acting like that?!" Shuntesh barked, annoyed. "You don't know anything about it, huh? Why are you completely expressionless?!"
The roommate holding the broom slowly blinked his half-closed eyes.
"We literally just made an expression in front of you," the broom guy defended lazily. "That was 'Oh'. Can't you recognize it?"
Kniya completely lost it. He burst into a loud, incredibly obnoxious, echoing laugh that shook the cardboard walls.
"Ha ha ha ha!" Kniya cackled, slapping his knee. "Oh my god! These guys are absolutely incredible!"
The entire room dissolved into a rare, genuine moment of laughter, with even Malesh letting out a quiet, amused scoff at the sheer absurdity of the roommates' defense.
"Okay, okay, stop," Kniya said gently, raising a hand to lower the fan. "It is not required. The fan is not required. You're a great host, Shuntesh. Drink your own tea."
Shuntesh smiled faintly, lowering the fan and sitting on a crate opposite them.
"So," Kniya began, his voice dropping into a serious, highly confident corporate register. "I want to talk about the important thing. We can help you with your Fisluation research."
Shuntesh let out a highly skeptical, exhausted chuckle.
"How can you help me?" Shuntesh asked, shaking his head. "It is totally impossible. Fisluation is a really, really rare material. You can't just buy it at a market. The government hoards what little they find. I don't think you can do anything."
Kniya smirked, leaning back on his wooden crate. "Malesh. I think we should give him some Fisluation sand."
Malesh didn't blink. He calmly reached deep into the inner pocket of his ruined charcoal suit jacket. He pulled out a heavy, tightly sealed, lead-lined pouch and casually tossed it onto the workbench next to the reactor.
THUD.
"He literally always carries that with him," Kniya laughed obnoxiously. "It's like pocket change for him."
Shuntesh frowned. He cautiously walked over, unclipped the heavy seal of the pouch, and looked inside.
A soft, violently bright, unstable blue glow illuminated his face.
Shuntesh froze. His breath hitched in his throat. He stumbled backward, staring at the pouch in absolute, world-shattering disbelief. It wasn't just a gram. It was a massive, highly concentrated handful of pure, raw Fisluation.
"How...?" Shuntesh gasped, his eyes wide with pure shock. He looked up at the four people sitting on his crates. "How is this possible?! How are you able to get this thing?!"
Salesh took a calm sip of his tea, adjusting his posture with sheer corporate pride.
"We have many things like that," Salesh bragged smoothly. "I think you just need to ask, and we are going to provide you with our help. Because we literally own an entire private island full of Fisluation. So don't worry about the fuel."
"Yeah," Filoska confirmed dryly, crossing her legs. "That is entirely true. We have an island."
The Corporate Introductions
Shuntesh backed up until his shoulders hit the cardboard wall. His brain was completely short-circuiting.
"Who are you really?!" Shuntesh asked, his voice shaking with absolute bewilderment. "Who are you guys?!"
Filoska let out a long, deeply exhausted sigh. She placed her chipped teacup on a crate, stood up, and aggressively smoothed down her ruined designer jacket.
"Well, allow me to explain exactly who we are," Filoska announced, her voice dripping with sharp, aristocratic sarcasm as she pointed to herself. "I am the Vice President of the Kavilson Steel empire."
She aggressively pointed a finger directly at Kniya, who was happily chewing on a stale biscuit.
"This absolute, unhinged idiot sitting next to me is Kniya," Filoska introduced ruthlessly. "He is the owner of Kavilson Steel, Kniya Airlines, and the absolute motherfucker who just explicitly commanded you to destroy my private car."
Kniya waved cheerfully. "Hi."
Filoska turned her hand toward Salesh. "You can see this highly stressed guy right here. He is Salesh. He is the President of our company, and he spends ninety percent of his life fixing the garbage these two create."
Finally, Filoska gestured toward Malesh, who was sitting perfectly still, his face an unyielding, cold mask.
"And there is Malesh," Filoska finished flatly. "He is the absolute owner of Malesh Energy Limited. He operates the largest oil and power monopoly in the Republic, he never smiles, and he is the one who currently possesses the legal deed to the Largest discovered oil reserves known to mankind."
Shuntesh, the sweeper, and the sleeping guy all stared at them in absolute, terrifying silence. Four of the most powerful corporate warlords in the entire history of the Republic of DI were currently drinking cheap tea in their cardboard treehouse.
The Grace of the Apex Predators
The dim, flickering light of the battery bulb cast long shadows across the cardboard walls of the treehouse. For a long, suffocating moment, the only sound was the distant wind rustling the branches outside.
Shuntesh Hawada stood completely frozen against the scrap-wood wall. His sharp eyes darted from the heavy, lead-lined pouch of ultra-rare Fisluation sand to the four muddy, battered people sitting casually on his wooden crates.
These weren't just rich people. These were the apex predators of the global economy. The titans who supplied the iron for the military, the fuel for the cities, and the capital that kept the entire Republic of DI breathing. And they were currently drinking his stale tea.
Behind Shuntesh, the lethargic roommate dropped his broom. It hit the floor with a loud clack. The sleeping guy on the mattress suddenly sat up, his eyes wide open, all traces of his mid-day laziness instantly evaporating.
"We are going to help you with your research, Shuntesh," Kniya announced, leaning forward with absolute corporate authority. "Whatever you want. The materials, the raw resources, the heavy machinery. You just name it, and we are going to provide it. We are backing you."
Shuntesh's breath hitched. His tough, desensitized factory persona completely shattered. Deep inside his mind, a profound, overwhelming wave of relief washed over him. He closed his eyes for a split second, silently thanking God. After the mud, after the beatings, after the soul-crushing debt... it's over. My life is actually going to change. His two roommates grabbed each other by the shoulders, shaking with silent, explosive excitement. They were instantly, radiantly happy.
Shuntesh stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly as he completely lost his cool. "Sir... sir, I don't need all that. Just a small space and some raw sand would be more than enough! You don't have to…!!"
"Hey, don't talk about this thing," Kniya interrupted, waving his hand dismissively with a massive, arrogant smirk. "You are working for us now. We are going to pay you incredibly better than that gold-plated idiot at the factory. We'll even pay you for your overtime."
Kniya chuckled at his own joke, throwing his arms wide. "In fact, we are going to create an entirely new corporate entity just for you. A brand-new Research and Development department, specifically funded and tailored for your Fisluation projects!"