Season 3 chapter 82
The Financial Reality Check
Malesh, who had been sitting in complete, terrifying silence, slowly turned his head to look at Kniya. His deadpan mask was entirely devoid of celebration. His pragmatic brain was screaming.
"Kniya," Malesh asked flatly. "A genuine question. Do we actually have the liquid money to pay him and fund a highly experimental energy sector?"
In his mind, Malesh was actively spiraling. We literally just signed a death-warrant loan with Mantouse. We are sixty trillion credits in debt to a shadow syndicate. Why the fuck is Kniya blindly funding random sand research instead of finding a way to repay the people who are going to assassinate us?
Kniya scoffed, highly offended by the doubt.
"Malesh, you don't even know about this thing," Kniya defended loudly, dusting off his tailored suit. "I am not that kind of a poor person! I have money! You are forgetting that only our domestic branch here in the Republic got completely destroyed by the civil war. The international branches of my company, like the massive sectors operating out in Arvonia and across the eastern borders, are still alive, and they are thriving very much!"
Kniya pointed a finger directly at the highly stressed President of his company.
"And Salesh was the guy who did all of that!" Kniya praised loudly. "He worked his ass off to manage our international branches and transfer the assets safely while the civil war was burning our headquarters down! So the corporate accounts are still flowing."
Kniya leaned back, crossing his arms with an arrogant grin. "And also, Salesh is with us. He is literally the owner of the fourth-largest conglomerate in this entire world. What do you think, Malesh? We are having a lot of money."
Salesh took a slow, deep sip of his cheap tea. On the outside, he looked perfectly calm. On the inside, his soul was screaming in pure financial terror.
Why the fuck do I have to pay for this?! Salesh panicked internally. I am not liquidating my own private conglomerates to fund a cardboard-box nuclear reactor! Keep my wallet out of this!
Kniya caught the sheer panic in Salesh's eyes and let out a loud laugh.
"Okay, Salesh, relax," Kniya chuckled, waving him off. "I know exactly what you are thinking right now. You are sweating about your own bank accounts. But for now, me and Malesh are going to exclusively fund this research, so don't worry about it."
Salesh let out a long, quiet sigh of relief, his heart rate finally dropping back to normal.
The Northern East Wing
Kniya turned his attention back to the bewildered researcher standing in the center of the room.
"We are going to provide you with a massive, state-of-the-art building to work in," Kniya promised, his unhinged energy completely focused on the future. "All the things you require, the resources, the heavy shielding, the Fisluation material, the engineering tools, and everything else, will be entirely covered under the company's expense. You literally don't have to worry about a single credit. Just do your research and build me a masterpiece."
Filoska, finally stepping out of her aggressive, car-mourning mood, stood up and smoothed her ruined designer jacket. The sharp, highly efficient corporate executive inside her completely took over the logistics.
"Yeah, I will personally arrange everything for you, Shuntesh," Filoska stated warmly, offering him a genuine, professional smile. "I think the Northern East wing of our Kavilson Steel headquarters would be the absolute perfect place for your research. That entire sector is completely empty right now, heavily reinforced with steel plating, and completely isolated from the main corporate traffic. It is the best place for unstable energy tests."
She stepped forward, extending her hand to him.
"I will hand over all the types of resources you need," Filoska promised. "You can talk to me directly whenever you want, day or night. We are friends now, and we have to work together on this thing."
Shuntesh stared at her hand for a moment. The reality of the situation finally anchored itself in his mind. He wasn't a slave to the factory anymore. He was the head of a multi-trillion-dollar R&D department.
He firmly shook Filoska's hand, a massive, uncontainable smile finally breaking through his dirt-stained face.
Behind him, the two lazy roommates practically collapsed onto each other, cheering loudly. The cardboard floor creaked under the weight of their celebration, but for the first time in years, the treehouse didn't feel like a prison. It felt like the beginning of an empire.
The Capitalist Condition
The cardboard floor of the treehouse was still creaking under the weight of the roommates' celebration when Kniya suddenly held up a hand, completely cutting off the cheering.
"Okay, wait a minute, stop the celebration," Kniya announced, his unhinged smile dropping into a sharp, deeply serious corporate glare. "I didn't just hand you an entire Research and Development department out of pure charity, Shuntesh. We are hardcore capitalists. If you want to work for our company, you need to develop something massive for us. That is the rule."
Shuntesh blinked, his smile fading slightly as he crossed his arms. The chill, desensitized researcher persona returned.
"Okay," Shuntesh nodded calmly. "What exactly do you want me to build?"
"I don't care about this Mataenium sludge-bucket," Kniya ordered, pointing dismissively at the small cylinder on the workbench. "You told us earlier that your true dream was Fisluation research, but you never had the money or the raw materials because the government hoards it. Well, I literally just gave you an entire island of it."
Kniya leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Shuntesh.
"I don't want you to scale up things you've already made," Kniya demanded. "I want you to do the impossible. I want you to build the world's first fully functional, commercial-grade Fisluation reactor. A literal power plant powered entirely by the sand everyone else slips on. I want to supply limitless energy to the masses, and I want Kavilson Steel to own the patent."
Shuntesh stared at Kniya. For a second, the sheer scale of the ambition completely stunned him. He had spent his entire academic life dreaming of getting his hands on just a few grams of raw Fisluation to test his theories. Now, this unhinged, heavily armed billionaire had walked into his treehouse and ordered him to use a private island to build a national power grid from scratch.
Salesh's eyes widened as the absolute insanity of the ambition registered in his brain. "A commercial Fisluation reactor?! Kniya, that takes decades of regulatory approval! The federal government literally classifies that sand as industrial waste!"
"Fuck the regulations, Salesh!" Kniya yelled enthusiastically. "Do you realize what we have here?! The government and the energy lords completely rejected this guy's intellect, and they think Fisluation is just slippery mud! They have absolutely no idea it can be weaponized into a super-fuel! We are going to build the first commercial reactor in total secrecy, patent the technology overnight, and then we are going to aggressively sell the power grid back to the exact same federal government that ignored him!"
The Island of Slippery Sand
Malesh adjusted his collar, leaning back against the wooden wall. His deadpan mask was finally showing the faintest hint of actual respect for Kniya's chaotic business plan.
"Kniya is actually right," Malesh deadpanned, looking at Shuntesh. "Let me explain the real reason we are funding you. Several years ago, through a highly questionable corporate buyout, Kniya and I acquired a massive, desolate island in DI'an Ocean. At the time, we were unable to make use of this precious asset."
"I always knew that sand was hiding something!" Kniya interrupted defensively. "I wanted to make use of this technology for years! I knew it could be used for advanced factory production, but we literally didn't have the engineering brainpower to refine it! Our scientists just kept slipping on it and breaking their ankles!"
"Exactly," Filoska agreed, crossing her arms. "We have sitting on an absolute goldmine of raw Fisluation for years, but we were entirely unable to weaponize or commercialize it. We just owned an island of highly explosive mud."
Malesh pointed a finger directly at Shuntesh.
"But now, we have you," Malesh stated coldly. "You are the missing piece of the supply chain. We have the limitless raw materials on our private island. We have the massive heavy-manufacturing factories of Kavilson Steel to build the iron containment shells. And you have the blueprints in your head."
The Final Handshake
Shuntesh looked at the tiny, sputtering reactor on his desk, and then looked back at Kniya. A slow, deeply confident smile spread across his dirt-stained face.
"You provide the island, the heavy shielding, and the resources," Shuntesh said, stepping forward and extending his hand. "And I will provide you with the most powerful commercial reactor this Republic has ever seen. We have a deal."
Kniya's eyes gleamed with raw, unfiltered corporate greed. He firmly grasped Shuntesh's hand, shaking it with absolute certainty.
"Deal," Kniya grinned.
The entire treehouse immediately erupted into cheers. The two lazy roommates completely lost their minds, jumping up and down so hard the cardboard walls actually buckled. Filoska let out a genuine, relieved laugh, clapping her hands together, while Salesh let out a heavy sigh, finally feeling like they had secured a future that wasn't entirely doomed.
Even Malesh offered a slow, incredibly rare, single nod of approval.
"Okay, okay!" Kniya shouted over the cheering, throwing his arms wide with massive CEO energy. "This is a historic moment for Kavilson Steel! We are not going to celebrate this in a muddy treehouse eating stale biscuits! Everyone get down the ladder!"
"Where are we going?" Shuntesh asked, completely bewildered.
"We are going out!" Kniya declared loudly. "So yeah, let's have a dinner in a fancy restaurant! We are celebrating the launch of our new R&D department, and I am paying for everything! Let's go!"
Without waiting for an answer, Kniya marched toward the trapdoor, ready to drag his entire executive board, and three muddy street researchers, into the most expensive dining establishment in the capital.