The Arrival of Valdick
Salesh closed his eyes for a second, focusing his new linguistic abilities on the shiny knight standing in the center of the market square.
"Okay, listen," Salesh whispered to the group, translating the knight's royal accent in real-time. "He is saying... 'Order! Order! Order!'"
The medieval crowd immediately went dead silent, bowing their heads respectfully as the knight unrolled a thick parchment scroll.
"He says, 'Everyone in this village is officially informed that our glorious Prince Valdick is coming to this town in exactly one hour for an official royal visit!'" Salesh translated rapidly, his eyes darting across the square.
"Prince Valdick?" Kniya snickered, heavily amused by the name.
"Yeah, that's what he said," Salesh confirmed, waving his hand for them to stay quiet. "The knight is telling them, 'Everyone is strictly requested to make way for our Prince! Move all of your carts aside and immediately shut down your shops to clear the main road!'"
Malesh's eyes instantly narrowed. A dark, highly devious capitalist smirk slowly crept across his face as he stared at the panicked medieval shopkeepers rushing to close their businesses.
"A royal prince, huh?" Malesh whispered, his mind already calculating the political leverage. "This just got highly interesting."
The Royal Brutality
The shiny knight's royal announcement was just the beginning of the absolute chaos.
The local shopkeepers, terrified by the sudden one-hour notice, frantically scrambled to pack up their goods. But the royal guards were not interested in giving them time. The soldiers immediately drew their weapons and began violently clearing the streets, shoving innocent civilians into the mud and aggressively smashing wooden market stalls to pieces.
"Sir, please! Stop it!" an elderly shopkeeper begged, throwing himself in front of a heavily armored guard. "You cannot break my shop! This is my only source of income!"
The guard didn't even blink. He brutally kicked the old man aside, flipped his cart of vegetables into the dirt, and started hurling piles of medieval street garbage directly onto the front gates of the nearby houses. The street was rapidly turning into a chaotic, violent riot.
The Anatomy of a Name
Hiding safely behind their cabbage cart in the alleyway, Malesh completely ignored the devastating human rights violations happening right in front of him. His highly analytical brain was entirely fixated on a completely different issue.
"What the actual fuck kind of name is that?" Malesh whispered, his face twisted in pure confusion. "Who the fuck names their kid with 'Dick'?"
"It's Valdick, Malesh," Salesh corrected nervously.
"Well, there is a 'Val' at the front, but still, why is there a 'Dick' heavily featured at the end?" Malesh argued, gesturing wildly. "Did the King have a severely short dick? A ridiculously long dick? A broken dick? What kind of fundamental anatomical problem did the King suffer from that he legally felt the need to name his own child with a dick? It makes absolutely zero logical sense!"
Despite the horrifying screams of the shopkeepers echoing in the background, Kniya and Filoska could not hold it in. They both aggressively stifled their laughter, covering their mouths as Malesh ruthlessly roasted the royal family's naming conventions.
The Analog Switchboard
Suddenly, as the group was laughing, Filoska abruptly stopped. She blinked, looking out at the chaotic street.
"Wait a minute," Filoska whispered, her eyes widening in realization. "I can actually understand the peasants right now. I just heard that woman scream, 'My cabbages are ruined!' in perfect, crystal-clear modern English."
Kniya popped his mint gum in surprise. "Holy shit, me too. I don't hear the gibberish anymore."
They all turned to look at Salesh. The 46% owner of Salvesh Industries was glowing with absolute corporate pride, gently tapping the side of his own head.
"My powers have officially evolved, guys," Salesh boasted, a highly confident smirk crossing his face. "I don't need to manually translate for you anymore. I am projecting a localized, invisible acoustic frequency. The translated audio is now automatically telegraphing directly into your eardrums in real-time, like an invisible copper wire. I am literally a human analog switchboard for language."
"Salesh, I have to admit, you are doing absolutely great right now," Malesh nodded, deeply impressed by the efficiency. "This is the fastest biological evolution I have ever witnessed in my entire life. Not like basic human evolution, which highly unproductively took millions of years. This is premium, fast-tracked development."
"Finally, a useful executive skill," Filoska sighed in profound relief. "And thank God for that, because if I had to listen to one more of Malesh's fake telegram translations about snakes aggressively masturbating in medieval underwear, I was going to throw myself off this mountain."
The Democratic Regime Change
Malesh completely ignored Filoska's insult and peeked back over the cabbage cart, watching the guards brutally beat another merchant.
"Kniya, just look at this," Malesh sneered in utter disgust. "The system is so entirely corrupt. These fucking officials act exactly like the villains in every generic, cookie-cutter trash novel we have ever read. They are systematically destroying the local economy just so a royal brat can walk on a clean street."
Malesh leaned back against the brick wall, crossing his arms.
"This is exactly what happens when a society chooses a primitive monarchy instead of a highly regulated, capitalist democracy," Malesh ranted confidently. "Sucking a King's large dick eventually results in this exact economic downturn. All these guards are blindly destroying the GDP for their fucking Dick Prince. What can I even say about that? It is just so funny to watch a government fail this hard."
"Malesh, please, for the sake of accuracy, his name is Valdick," Salesh pleaded, aggressively rubbing his temples. "Why are you deliberately ruining his legal title? He is not the 'Dick Prince'."
"Well, whatever his legal name is, referring to him as a 'Dick' is not mathematically wrong given the current political climate," Kniya countered, aggressively chewing his gum.
Kniya's chaotic humor suddenly vanished, replaced by a dark, intensely calculated corporate stare. He looked at Malesh, then at Filoska and Salesh.
"But seriously, guys," Kniya whispered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, commanding tone. "Look at this chaos. This town is vulnerable. Their leadership is completely incompetent. I think we genuinely need to change the system here. A hostile regime change is highly required."
Kniya smirked, the neon-bright spark of violent capitalism igniting in his eyes.
"What do you guys think?" Salesh asked. "Should we overthrow the Dick Prince?"
The Corporate Revolution
"I don't think we can just overthrow the entire government by simply assassinating one prince," Kniya pointed out, aggressively chewing his mint gum.
Salesh wildly waved his hands in a panic. "I literally never said anything about overthrowing the government! I just said we Have to overthrow the Dick Prince!"
"Whatever the fuck it is, the market is ripe for a hostile takeover," Kniya smirked.
Kniya closed his eyes, tapping directly into his imagination-to-creation powers. With a heavy, metallic clank, four massive, heavy-duty R-57 rifles materialized out of thin air. They were brutal-looking weapons, made with alloys and polished wood.
He casually tossed one to Malesh, shoved one into Salesh's chest, and handed the final heavy weapon to Filoska.
"Wait, Kniya," Malesh noted, inspecting the R-57 rifle. "Where is the ammunition? We don't have any spare powder or lead."
"Don't worry about the bullets," Kniya grinned, racking the bolt of his R-57 rifle with a highly satisfying mechanical shuck-shuck sound. "My powers have officially evolved too. I can generate the heavy ammunition in real-time, feeding it directly into your chambers via an invisible supply chain. You will never have to reload."
Filoska awkwardly held the massive firearm, her expensive corporate skirt covered in dirt. "So... what exactly are we going to do with these?"
"We are going to legally liquidate them, obviously," Kniya laughed, his eyes flashing with unhinged capitalist violence. "We are going to overthrow this overused, predictable trope of a medieval society. What the fuck else do you think we are going to do?"
Without a single moment of hesitation, Kniya stepped out from behind the cabbage cart and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
The deafening roar of the heavy R-57 rifle echoed across the market square. The royal guards, completely unfamiliar with any kind of advanced ballistic technology, stood absolutely frozen in shock as their shiny armor was completely shredded.
"It is officially time for a corporate revolution!" Salesh screamed, his fear completely dissolving into adrenaline as he closed his eyes and started blindly pulling the trigger.
BOOM! BOOM!
The market instantly turned into an absolute warzone. Malesh calmly marched forward, firing his weapon with cold, calculated, mechanical precision. Even Filoska completely lost her aristocratic composure. She rested the heavy rifle barrel on a shattered wooden cart, aggressively blasting any royal guard that dared to step toward her.
"Take that, you unregulated, tax-evading medieval parasites!" Filoska yelled over the gunfire.
Within minutes, the brutal one-sided firefight was completely over. The royal guards, utterly unable to comprehend the concept of unlimited rifle ammunition, had all been effectively permanently downsized. The market square fell dead silent, the smoke clearing to reveal the terrified, trembling villagers peering out from behind their ruined shops.