Season 2 chapter 35
The Demon Lord's Office
The massive, heavily armored executive suite of Kavilson Steel in Seistain was usually a place of high-stakes corporate warfare. But today, Kniya Anderson, the multi-billionaire dictator of the industrial sector, was doing absolutely nothing productive.
He was kicking his boots up on his pristine mahogany desk, completely ignoring a stack of billion-credit ledgers. Instead, he was deeply engrossed in reading a trashy, imported light novel titled That Time I Reincarnated as a Demon Lord to Crush My Enemies. The cover featured highly detailed, anime-style characters, and Kniya was absolutely obsessed with it.
The room was quiet. Peaceful.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors swung open with a violent crash.
Salesh marched into the office. He was still wearing half the medical bandages from the amusement park beating two days prior, dressed in cheap, wrinkled slacks and a faded polo shirt.
Kniya jumped, nearly dropping his novel. "What the fuck is happening?!" Kniya yelled, tossing the book onto his desk. "Can you learn how to knock, you homeless-looking billionaire?!"
Salesh didn't say a word. He walked with absolute, terrifying purpose directly up to Kniya's desk, leaned over the mahogany wood, raised his hand, and delivered a massive, echoing SLAP right across Kniya's face.
SMACK.
The sound echoed off the high ceilings. Kniya's head snapped to the side. The sheer, unadulterated disrespect of the strike completely short-circuited Kniya's brain. For three agonizing seconds, there was dead silence.
Kniya slowly turned his head back, his eyes burning with absolute, unfiltered rage. His hand slammed down onto a custom-built brass button on his desk—a button specifically wired into the building's PA system for moments of extreme corporate anger.
Instantly, a heavy, aggressive suspense beat started blasting through the office speakers, followed by Kniya's own pre-recorded voice screaming a custom, highly vulgar rap track.
"YOU ALL FUCKING SUSPENDED! FUCK YOU! YOU SHIT HOLE! FIRED! FIRED! FIRED! GET THE FUCK OUT!" The music bumped aggressively, rattling the windows. Kniya glared at Salesh over the deafening bass.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" Kniya roared over the music, slamming his fist on the desk to cut the audio off. "You walk into my building and slap me?! I will throw you out of the fucking window!"
Salesh just stood there, crossing his arms and looking completely unbothered. "It was an establishment of dominance. I am here for my interview for the Presidency of Kavilson Steel."
Kniya rubbed his stinging cheek, grinding his teeth. "Fine. You want an interview? Sit down and shut the fuck up."
Salesh took a seat in the plush leather chair opposite the desk.
Kniya pulled out a blank piece of paper, grabbed a gold pen, and aggressively clicked it. He put on his most condescending corporate sneer. "Alright, let's start with the basics, since you clearly lack basic manners. What is your name, and what is your specific reason for coming here today?"
Salesh stared at him like he was looking at a brain-damaged pigeon.
"No," Salesh said flatly.
"Excuse me?" Kniya snapped.
"Are you completely braindead?" Salesh scoffed. "By the recent gang beating where we literally bled on each other two days ago, you already know my fucking name. You know I own Salvesh Industries. You know exactly why I am here. Why the fuck do you want to know this again? It is a redundant question."
Kniya opened his mouth to yell at him for ruining the formal interview structure—but before he could utter a single syllable, the office was subjected to a second, far more destructive breach.
The Door Breach
CRASH!
The right side of Kniya's heavy oak door literally splintered off its iron hinges, collapsing inward in a shower of wood and plaster.
Stepping casually over the shattered remains of the door was Malesh Bulwadi. He wasn't wearing a jacket—just his usual short-sleeved button-down shirt, dark trousers, and a silk tie printed with an intricate dragon theme. He brushed a piece of splintered wood off his shoulder, looking completely unfazed by the property damage he had just caused.
Kniya's frustration completely boiled over. He was done.
Kniya violently kicked his chair back, reached under his desk, and pulled out his heavy-gauge shotgun. He didn't even hesitate. He aimed the barrel straight up at the expensive chandelier and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
Plaster, glass, and sparks rained down from the ceiling as the gunshot deafened everyone in the room.
"Is this your dad's fucking office?!" Kniya screamed at the top of his lungs, racking the shotgun slide with a terrifying CH-CHAK. "Are you just allowed to break my shit?! This is a multi-million-credit door! What the fuck is wrong with everyone today?!"
Malesh didn't even flinch at the gunshot. He just casually stepped further into the room, stepping on a piece of broken glass.
"Guards!" Kniya roared, his face red with fury. "Guards, get your asses in here right now!"
Two heavily armed Kavilson Steel security guards nervously poked their heads through the destroyed doorway, looking at the shotgun in their boss's hands.
"Keep Malesh out of my office!" Kniya commanded, pointing the smoking barrel at his best friend. "Throw this oil-drinking parasite out into the street! Right fucking now!"
The two guards looked at Kniya. Then they looked at Malesh.
Then, they slowly looked down at the floor, absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Kniya. They didn't move a single muscle. They didn't even reach for their weapons.
"What are you doing?!" Kniya yelled. "Why the fuck are you just standing there?! Throw him out!"
Malesh stood in the center of the room. A slow, incredibly rare, and highly disrespectful smirk spread across his face.
Kniya saw the smirk. The gears in his head turned, and he instantly realized what was going on.
"You fucking idiot!" Kniya screamed, dropping the shotgun on his desk and pointing an accusing finger at Malesh. "You even bribed my own fucking guards?! You paid them off?!"
"I offered them a superior dental plan and a significant cash bonus to completely ignore your temper tantrums," Malesh stated smoothly, adjusting his dragon tie. "It was a highly effective investment."
"Guards, you are now suspended!" Kniya roared, practically climbing over his desk. "You are suspended! Everyone is fucking suspended! Get out of my sight!"
The two guards suddenly panicked.
"No, sir, please!" the first guard begged, stepping into the room. "Please don't do this to us! We have families! We just took a little extra cash!"
"What the fuck do you think?!" Kniya shouted, pacing behind his desk. "You think this is a normal thing?! You are literally taking a bribe from the guy who breaks my doors! That is treason!"
The second guard frowned, crossing his arms and suddenly finding his courage. "But sir, you are also taking bribes! We literally saw the news!"
Kniya froze. "What news?"
"In the local Bunti Bunti newspaper!" the guard argued aggressively. "We read the article yesterday! You were taking illegal commissions on the Arvonian military contracts! You take bribes all the time!"
"That is all false information!" Kniya lied through his teeth, completely outraged that his own employees were reading cheap tabloids to track his corruption. "I have never taken bribes! I have never taken a commission or anything like that! I am a very kind guy! I am pure as the fucking snow!"
The guards stared at him. They looked at the shattered door, the shotgun on the desk, the massive hole in the ceiling, and the fact that Kniya had literally extorted the Central Bank a week ago.
"Sir, don't lie to us," the first guard said, his voice dripping with sheer disappointment.
Both guards let out a synchronized, heavy, highly disrespectful sigh.
"HUH HUH."
Without another word, the two guards turned around and walked straight out of the destroyed office, completely abandoning their posts.
The Comedy Supervisor
Kniya stood alone behind his desk, his chest heaving with rage. His door was broken, his ceiling was shot, his face was stinging from a slap, and his guards had just unionized against him using a garbage tabloid as leverage.
He slowly turned his furious glare toward Malesh.
"Why are you here?" Kniya demanded, his voice dropping into a deadly, exhausted whisper. "What the literal fuck do you have to do with this interview? You are here for fucking no reason and you are disturbing me because I want to take a very important interview with this idiot!"
Salesh waved casually from his chair.
Malesh smoothly pulled up a second leather chair, sat down next to Salesh, and crossed one leg over the other, looking perfectly at home in the chaos.
"I am here as a jokes person," Malesh stated with absolute, deadpan seriousness.
Kniya blinked. "...A what?"
"A jokes person," Malesh repeated, not breaking eye contact. "I am here to ensure that jokes are actively present in this corporate interview, and to mathematically ensure that you do not ask any useless fucking questions. You were already asking for his name. It was embarrassing to watch. I am here to elevate the quality of this interaction."
"You broke my door to be a fucking comedian?!" Kniya screamed.
"Proceed with the interview," Malesh ordered, waving his hand dismissively. "And make it entertaining."