Season 3 chapter 11
The Health Conscious Hypocrite
The heavy, incredibly tense atmosphere of the Kavilson Steel executive suite was
suddenly interrupted by a soft, hesitant knock on the massive double doors.
The doors slowly pushed open, and a young, highly nervous corporate attendant
stepped into the room, pushing a silver beverage cart. He was wearing a pristine
white uniform, sweating profusely under the intense glares of the two billionaires.
"Excuse me, sirs," the attendant squeaked, stopping the cart near Kniya's
mahogany desk. "Would you like to have some premium roasted coffee to help
with the research?"
He looked directly at Kniya, holding a highly expensive ceramic mug.
"Ah, no," Kniya waved a dismissive hand. "The coffee is for Malesh. I only drink
the cold drink. Pour me a massive glass of the blue carbonated cold drink. It is my
absolute favorite."
Malesh, who was still fuming over their lack of federal intelligence, slowly lowered
his hands and stared at Kniya. His deadpan face twisted into a mask of pure,
judgmental disbelief.
"Oh, really?" Malesh said, his voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "I am hearing
about this thing from the exact same guy who always lectures me about his
physical routine. The guy who claims he is fucking health conscious. And now you
are fucking drinking a bright blue, artificially flavored cold drink just to be 'more
health conscious'?"
"You won't understand the complex health benefits of a premium cold drink,"
Kniya defended arrogantly, pointing a finger at Malesh. "It has carbonation! It
cleans the throat! It has essential sugars to power the executive brain! Just take
your bitter, muddy coffee and shut up."
"It is literally carbonated battery acid," Malesh countered bluntly. "It rots your
internal organs. You are poisoning your own digestive tract while pretending to be
an elite athlete."
"It's an energy supplement!" Kniya yelled back.
The Bribed Beverage Incident
The terrified attendant stood frozen between them, his hands shaking as he held
the silver tray.
"Sirs?" the attendant interrupted quietly, his voice cracking. "Can I please just
provide you with the coffee or the cold drink now?"
"Yeah, whatever," Kniya sighed, leaning back in his luxurious chair and crossing
his arms. "Just give me the cold drink and give him the hot coffee."
Kniya immediately locked eyes with the attendant and gave a very small, highly
deliberate, completely evil wink.
The attendant's posture instantly changed. The nervous, shaking coffee boy
vanished, replaced by the swift, calculated movements of a highly paid corporate
assassin. He spun around, grabbed the steaming hot cup of black coffee, and
forcefully violently launched the entire cup of boiling liquid directly onto Malesh's
chest.
SPLASH.
The scorching hot coffee completely soaked Malesh's crisp white shirt and
absolutely drenched his beloved, incredibly expensive dragon-themed silk tie.
For exactly one second, there was dead silence in the office.
Then, Malesh completely lost his mind.
"What the fuck?!" Malesh roared, jumping off the leather sofa as the boiling liquid
burned his chest. "What the fuck just happened in the blink of an eye?!"
Kniya was already clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he was physically
choking on his own breath. He had secretly bribed the attendant a hundred
thousand credits just twenty minutes ago to execute this exact maneuver.
"What the fuck did you do to me?!" Malesh screamed at the attendant, completely
dropping his robotic demeanor. He ripped a heavy, black-steel revolver out of his
shoulder holster. "You literally ruined my shirt, you fucking idiot!"
The attendant shrieked, instantly turning and sprinting toward the double doors.
Malesh didn't even aim at him. He was so blinded by rage that he simply pointed
his revolver at the massive, floor-to-ceiling glass window of the skyscraper and
pulled the trigger.
BLAM!
The reinforced glass shattered into a million pieces, raining down onto the streets
of Seistain below.
"Just move out of the fucking office, you idiot, or I will definitely kill you, you
bastard!" Malesh screamed at the fleeing attendant. "You absolute motherfucker!
Who the fuck told you to do that, you idiot?!"
"It was me!" Kniya cackled, pounding his fist on the desk. "I paid him! It was a
tactical strike on your wardrobe!"
"I am going to strangle you!" Malesh hissed, desperately trying to wipe the brown
stains off his silk tie. "The fucking idiot completely destroyed my clothes and my
precious dragon-themed tie! Fucking idiot!"
The Homeless Trillionaire
Malesh stood in the middle of the room, dripping with hot coffee, panting heavily.
His chest was burning, his clothes were ruined, and his stress levels were
completely off the charts.
"Now I need to drink the actual coffee," Malesh growled, his eye twitching
furiously. "I need to do something about this. My caffeine levels are dropping."
"Well, you should basically go to the executive restroom and clean your clothes
before basically drinking the coffee," Kniya suggested, wiping a tear of laughter
from his eye. "You look like a disaster."
"It's not required," Malesh rejected bluntly, entirely abandoning his dignity. "I am
not that much efficient in that. I need caffeine immediately."
Malesh turned and marched directly toward the massive, multi-million credit, high-
tech espresso machine sitting in the corner of the executive suite.
Instead of grabbing a ceramic mug, Malesh leaned over the machine. He tilted his
head completely sideways, unhinged his jaw slightly, and placed his mouth
directly under the boiling hot dispensing tap.
He slammed his hand on the 'Double Espresso' button.
HSSSSS. SHHHHH-GLUG-GLUG-GLUG.
The machine aggressively pumped boiling hot, highly concentrated liquid caffeine
directly into Malesh's mouth. He didn't even flinch. He just slurped it loudly,
swallowing the burning liquid like a feral animal drinking from a swamp.
SLUUURP. AHHHH.
Kniya stopped laughing. His face twisted into absolute, unfiltered disgust.
"What the actual fuck are you doing?!" Kniya yelled, completely horrified by the
sight of his best friend and co-founder deep-throating a coffee machine. "You
look disgusting!"
Malesh hit the button again. GLUG-GLUG-GLUG. More coffee poured directly into
his mouth, spilling slightly down his chin and mixing with the stains already on his
shirt.
"Guards!" Kniya screamed, hitting the panic button under his desk. "Guards, come
up here right fucking now!"
The Orphan Snipers
Within seconds, the shattered double doors were kicked wide open. Three heavily
armored Kavilson Steel elite guards marched into the room, leveling their assault
rifles.
"Just get this guy out of here!" Kniya ordered, pointing a disgusted finger at
Malesh, who was still leaning against the espresso machine, wiping his mouth with
his sleeve. "Make this fucking homeless trillionaire out of my fucking office right
now!"
The guards hesitated, looking at Malesh, who legally owned exactly fifty percent
of everything in the room.
"Do not even try to bribe them, Malesh!" Kniya boasted proudly. "These guards
are completely pure! I specifically vetted them! They have not taken a single bribe
from anyone else in their entire careers, so they absolutely won't follow your
corrupt orders, you fucking idiot!"
Malesh calmly turned around. He looked at the three highly trained, unbribable
guards. He didn't reach for his wallet. He just pulled out his encrypted phone.
"Then I will simply kill them with my snipers," Malesh stated with terrifying,
deadpan logic. "My snipers are currently present in any of the surrounding
buildings in the Seistain skyline, and they are already pointed directly at these
guys."
Right on cue, three distinct, bright red laser dots perfectly materialized on the
center mass of the three elite guards' armored chests.
The guards completely froze, the blood draining from their faces.
"You can't do that!" Kniya yelled, jumping out of his chair. "You don't know about
the specific thing regarding these guards! I hired them specifically for a reason!
They are all orphans, Malesh! You cannot threaten their families to make them
back down!"
Malesh stared at Kniya, his dark eyes completely devoid of any empathy.
"Yeah, I know perfectly well about this thing," Malesh replied smoothly. "And that
is exactly why my snipers have directly pointed their rifles towards their vital
organs so that they can directly kill them on the spot. Since they are orphans,
there is no need to have and involve a fucking family drama in this, you idiot. It is a
completely clean kill with zero bureaucratic liability. No grieving mothers to sue
us."
Kniya stared at him, absolutely speechless at the sheer, cold-blooded efficiency of
the threat.
The Seistain Stalemate
Kniya stared at Malesh. He stared at the three unbribable, highly trained orphans
standing in the middle of the room with sniper lasers dancing on their chests.
The entire situation had completely spiraled out of control. Malesh was currently
covered in scalding hot coffee, unhinged on caffeine, and threatening to execute
corporate security on the spot.
Kniya's trillionaire brain short-circuited. Instead of de-escalating, he made the
worst possible choice. Kniya slowly reached into his own tailored suit jacket,
pulled out a massive, gold-plated hand-cannon, and pointed the heavy barrel
directly at Malesh's head.
Malesh immediately reacted, whipping his black-steel revolver away from the
shattered window and aiming it squarely at the space between Kniya's eyes.
The three orphan guards, trapped in the middle of a literal trillion-credit warzone,
slowly raised their assault rifles and pointed them at Malesh, their hands shaking
violently.
It was a high-stakes, lethal stalemate. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The only
sound in the room was the soft hum of the espresso machine and the distant wind
blowing through the shattered window.
"Drop the gun, Malesh," Kniya ordered, his voice surprisingly steady. "I am the
Managing Director of Kavilson Steel. I have the superior firepower."
"And I am the Managing Director of Malesh Energy Limited," Malesh replied,
completely deadpan, keeping his revolver perfectly still. "If you shoot me, my
legally binding death clause activates immediately. The company will permanently
stop delivering oil to Kavilson Steel. Not a single drop will flow to your refineries.
Your entire supply chain will collapse by midnight."
Before Kniya could counter that extremely valid, devastating financial argument,
the massive double doors didn't just open—they were violently kicked completely
off their heavy brass hinges.
BANG!
Salesh stormed into the executive suite, wearing bright pink sunglasses, an
untucked shirt, and holding a thick manila folder. He froze in the doorway, slowly
lowering his sunglasses as he took in the scene.
"What the absolute fuck have you made the fucking office?!" Salesh screamed, his
jaw dropping. "You guys have made the office a literal fucking war ground! Why
are you pointing your guns at each and everyone?! What the fuck is happening
right now here?!"
"Malesh threatened to snipe my orphans!" Kniya yelled, not lowering his gold gun.
"Kniya paid a servant to boil my shirt!" Malesh countered, not lowering his
revolver.
"I literally don't care!" Salesh roared, waving the manila folder in the air. "You told
me you were doing some serious research on the federal military massacre! Is this
your logical research?! Pointing guns at each other over coffee?! Just put your
guns down, you fucking idiots!"
Grudgingly, Kniya lowered his gold-plated eagle. A second later, Malesh holstered
his revolver. The three terrified guards immediately lowered their rifles and
sprinted out of the room before the snipers could change their minds.