Season 3 chapter 46
The Analyst's Proposal
Clist adjusted his tie, carefully stepping over the dead politician whose skull he had just crushed. He walked up to Kywon's desk, placing his sleek leather briefcase on the mahogany surface with a soft thud.
Clist looked Kywon dead in the eyes, his expression completely unreadable and strictly professional.
"You are going to become the President of this country," Clist began, his voice a calm, calculating monotone. "We have the resources to guarantee your victory. And more importantly, Mr. Hadous... we know everything about your longstanding, deeply personal problems. And we know exactly how to give you your revenge."
The Royal Blueprint
Kywon Hadous leaned heavily against his desk, his chest heaving as he stared at the impeccably dressed royal analyst.
"You don't hold any public political power," Kywon argued, his voice wavering between defiance and pure terror. "You can't just murder a few low-level party clerks in the middle of the night and magically rig a national election. The Republic is massive. How are you actually going to make me the President?"
Clist smoothly popped the brass latches on his leather briefcase.
"The mechanics of the electoral process are entirely our concern, Mr. Hadous," Clist stated, his voice a chilling, absolute monotone. "Not yours. Your only responsibility is to smile for the cameras, read the scripts we provide, and contest the seat. We will pave the rest of your road to the presidency using our own shadow infrastructure."
Clist pulled out a single, thick, red-stamped federal document and slid it across the mahogany desk.
"And once you are sworn into office," Clist continued coldly, "you are going to execute a very specific mandate. You will initiate a massive federal operation. Your first executive order will be the complete and total evacuation of all the religious towns within the Republic. You will forcefully displace the populations, you will extract every single precious stone statue from their temples, and you will legally sell the barren land and the artifacts directly to our organization."
Kywon stared at the document, his political mind instantly seeing the apocalyptic fallout of such a plan.
"You are insane," Kywon whispered, shaking his head. "People don't just pack up and abandon their holy sites because a politician tells them to. They will protest. They will riot. A six-month evacuation order won't work peacefully."
"We are fully aware," Clist replied without blinking. "Which is why, when they inevitably refuse to leave, you will deploy the national military. And you will slaughter them where they stand."
Kywon physically recoiled, his eyes widening in absolute horror.
"No," Kywon breathed. "No, you are talking about the mass murder and displacement of thousands of innocent citizens! Using the federal army against our own people?! What is the point of doing that?! What could you possibly gain from destroying entire cities and hoarding stone statues?!"
"Our operational gains are far beyond your clearance level," Clist dismissed flatly. "You do not need to understand the architecture of our empire. You just have to follow our exact orders."
Kywon gripped the edge of his desk, his inner ego fiercely rejecting the atrocity. "I won't do it. I cannot sanction the slaughter of thousands of people for a plan I don't even understand."
"It is not just for our plan, Kywon," Clist said, his voice dropping into a soft, highly manipulative register. "It avenges exactly what you want it to avenge."
Kywon froze. He swallowed hard, quickly looking away. "I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have any kind of vendetta against the religion."
Clist let out a dry, humorless chuckle. He stepped closer to Kywon, leaning over the desk so that his face was only inches away from the trembling politician.
"Oh? Is that so?" Clist whispered, his eyes piercing straight through Kywon's soul. "Then let me ask you a very specific question. Do you know one thing... about the hands?"
Kywon's breath instantly hitched. The color completely drained from his face, leaving him looking like a literal corpse. His hands began to violently shake, and a look of profound, deeply buried agony flashed across his eyes. He was completely, utterly paralyzed by the sheer weight of the cryptic reference.
"Do this," Clist demanded, capitalizing on the psychological crack. "And you will possess unimaginable wealth. You will be the absolute, undisputed ruler of this Republic. You will live the rest of your life in absolute, untouchable luxury with your loved one. And your revenge... your deeply personal revenge... will be completely and finally satisfied."
Kywon squeezed his eyes shut, his mind tearing itself apart. The promise of ultimate power and vengeance was intoxicating, but the cost was a literal sea of civilian blood.
"I... I need time," Kywon stammered, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "You need to give me some time. I need to think about this."
"We do not have time," Clist rejected instantly, his voice snapping like a whip. "We operate on a strict, unyielding schedule. You will either accept our terms right now, or you will die in this office. There is no other option left."
"Just give me a few days!" Kywon pleaded desperately.
Clist sighed, looking deeply annoyed by the hesitation. He gave a sharp nod toward the dark hallway. "Bring her in."
Kywon's head snapped up.
The Final Leverage
Two massive royal shadow-guards stepped through the double doors. Between them, struggling weakly and sobbing in pure terror, was a beautiful woman.
"Rhuifa!" Kywon screamed, lunging forward.
Before he could take a second step, Clist smoothly drew his suppressed pistol and pressed the cold steel barrel directly against the side of Rhuifa's head.
Rhuifa squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't dare make a sound.
"I believe you see her perfectly in front of you," Clist stated, his finger slowly wrapping around the trigger. "My weapon is aimed directly at her skull. If you hesitate for one more second, Kywon, her consciousness will be permanently liquidated from this earth. I will erase her."
The sight of the gun pressed against the head of the woman he loved completely shattered Kywon's remaining resistance. The political ego, the moral hesitation, the fear of the military fallout—it all instantly vanished.
"Okay! Okay!" Kywon shrieked, dropping to his knees and raising his hands in absolute surrender. "Don't do anything to her! Please, don't touch her! I agree! I am agreeing to your plan! I will do whatever you want!"
Clist held the gun in place for three agonizing seconds, ensuring the absolute submission of the future President.
Rhuifa let out a muffled sob, her shoulders shaking violently as she stared at Kywon kneeling on the floor.
As Kywon looked up at Rhuifa's tear-streaked face, the cold, metallic click of the gun's hammer echoing in his ears, his vision began to violently blur. The luxurious political office, the royal guards, and the bleeding corpse on the floor all began to melt away into the darkest recesses of his memory.
Looking at the sheer terror in the eyes of the person he loved most... Kywon's mind was violently dragged backward in time.
He wasn't a politician anymore.
He was thirteen years old again. And the most devastating, horrific incident of his entire life was about to begin.
The Development Grant
Years ago, tucked away in the deepest, most impoverished corners of the Republic, stood a very small, incredibly isolated religious town. The cobblestone streets were crumbling, the houses were made of rotting wood, and the people lived in absolute, crushing poverty.
Standing right at the dusty entrance of the town was the District Development Officer (DDO). He was a fat, impeccably dressed government official, and he was currently holding massive, incredibly thick bunches of high-denomination federal credit notes.
"Ha!" the DDO laughed hysterically, slapping the fat stacks of cash against his palm. "We finally got the bunches of notes, boys! This is absolutely beautiful! I will take all of this!"
Standing behind him were thirty low-level government officers, all staring hungrily at the state grants that were explicitly meant to develop the impoverished village.
"Okay, okay, listen up," the DDO smirked, tossing a few bundles of cash into a leather duffel bag. "I am getting fifty percent of this grant. And I think so, I will generously give you guys the other fifty percent. It is a flawless corporate split!"
One of the junior officers frowned, doing the math in his head.
"Sir," the junior officer complained, stepping forward. "We are thirty people, and we are dividing fifty percent amongst ourselves. You are literally just one guy, and you are taking half the entire bag for yourself! That is horrible math! You should at least give us ninety percent of the money!"
The DDO stopped packing the bag. He looked at the junior officer in absolute, unfiltered disbelief.
"What the fuck are you literally talking about?!" the DDO roared, waving a stack of cash in the air. "I was the one who got this fucking funding approved from the state level! Do you know how hard it is to forge municipal signatures?! My wrist was literally cramping! I was the reason behind that money! You were just standing here doing absolutely nothing!"
The DDO aggressively shoved the rest of the money into his bag and zipped it up.
"So, to just keep your fucking mouths shut, I don't need to provide you any extra percentage in your fucking share!" the DDO lectured loudly. "So, you ungrateful idiots, just shut your mouths and take your pennies! We are doing state-sponsored corruption here, not charity!"
As the DDO proudly slung the heavy bag of embezzled cash over his shoulder and prepared to leave, one of the officers hesitantly raised his hand.
"Uh, sir?" the officer pointed out. "You need to at least leave some standing units here. If the state inspectors drive by and see zero government presence, they will know we stole the infrastructure budget."
The DDO rolled his eyes in profound annoyance. He pointed a fat finger at two random guards standing near the back of the group.
"Hey! You two! Yeah, I'm talking to you two idiots," the DDO ordered. "Stand in this village. Yeah, that is your official duty now. Just stand here and look like you are developing something. I will give you a hundred credits extra each to just hang out by the gate."
The two guards immediately smiled, giving a lazy salute.
The DDO turned around, looking out over the rotting, impoverished religious town. A massive, cartoonishly evil grin spread across his face.
"This village is going to remain poor forever!" the DDO announced proudly, delivering his final, gleeful words. "There will be zero development! The people will suffer! They will absolutely never get the good roads, the new hospitals, or the modern schools they were promised! It will just be their fucking dream! Yes! Let's go buy a boat!"
The DDO and the rest of his corrupt entourage piled into their vehicles and drove away, laughing hysterically and leaving the village completely destitute.