[LOCATION: NETHER-CORE TOWER — EXECUTIVE BOARDROOM]
[TIME: 09:00 AM]
Wreckage of Captain Chen's SUV smoked on the street below.
Inside the boardroom, the air conditioning hummed. Tea was hot. Blood had been scrubbed from the carpet (Invoice Item #3).
Ren Wu sat at the head of the table.
Opposite him sat three ghosts. They didn't look like executives. They looked like survivors.
* Old Man Gu: Owner of the Azure Potion Distillery (Sector 9's only supplier of low-grade soul-mending broths).
* Iron-Tooth Liu: Owner of the Scrap Processing Yard.
* Boss Ma: A fat, arrogant spirit who ran the Central Warehouse.
Nervous. They'd seen the bodies of Unit 7 being dragged out by the Golems an hour ago.
"Gentlemen," Ren said. He slid three contracts across the table. "Thank you for coming on short notice."
Boss Ma chewed on a spirit-cigar, trying to look unimpressed. "Cut the crap, kid. You called us here to demand protection money. We know how this works. You kill the previous boss, you squeeze the locals. Sector 9 cycle."
"Protection money is such an ugly term." Ren leaned back. "I prefer Subscription Service."
He pointed to the window.
"Sector 9 is a hazardous environment. Spectral smog. Wandering beasts. Corporate kill squads. Bad for business."
Ren tapped the table.
[HOLOGRAPHIC DISPLAY: SECTOR 9 ZONING]
A map appeared. A golden circle surrounded the Nether-Core Tower—the Sanctuary Field Ren had established.
"Inside this circle," Ren said, "smog is neutralized. Feng Shui is stabilized. Inventory doesn't rot. Employees don't mutate."
He looked at Old Man Gu. "Your potions spoil in three days due to the miasma, correct?"
Gu nodded, trembling. "Yes. Spoilage rate is 40%."
"In my warehouse, they last indefinitely." Ren smiled. "I'm offering a Sanctuary License. You pay 10% of monthly revenue. In exchange, I extend the golden barrier to cover your properties. And if anyone tries to rob you..."
Ren glanced at the Golems standing by the door.
"...they answer to Security."
Old Man Gu looked at the contract. "10%? The Iron-Blood Gang charges 20%, and they don't do anything about the smog."
"Exactly," Ren said. "Premium product. Competitive rate."
Boss Ma slammed his fist on the table. "Joke! I already pay the Iron-Blood Mercenaries. They have fifty soldiers and a Warlord. You have two statues and a secretary. If I stop paying them to pay you, they'll burn my warehouse down!"
Ren leaned forward. "Boss Ma. Look out the window."
Ma looked. Twisted metal of the Alchemist Consortium's tactical vehicle.
"The Alchemists sent a Tier-C elimination squad this morning," Ren said softly. "I liquidated them in six minutes. Where was your 'Iron-Blood Gang' when that happened?"
Silence.
"I don't sell threats, Boss Ma. I sell insurance. But insurance only works if you buy it before the disaster."
Old Man Gu grabbed a pen. "I'll sign."
Iron-Tooth Liu hesitated, then nodded. "Me too. Smog is eating my scrap metal. 10% is fair."
They signed.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[NEW REVENUE STREAMS ACQUIRED: 2]
[ESTIMATED WEEKLY INCOME: 3,500 SPIRIT SILVER]
Boss Ma stood up. Spat his cigar on the floor.
"You're crazy. Iron-Blood Gang isn't some corporate cleanup crew. They are killers. Warlord Kui will mount your head on a pike for trying to poach his territory."
Ma turned to the door. "I'm keeping my money. And when they come for you, I'll be laughing."
Ren didn't stop him. Just watched him go.
"Mr. Han?" Ren called out.
Han stepped forward, tablet ready. "Sir?"
"Monitor Boss Ma's warehouse. When the Iron-Blood Gang realizes he refused my protection, the market will become... volatile."
"Should we intervene, sir?"
Ren sipped his tea. "No. We wait for the stock to crash. I like buying distressed assets."
[LOCATION: ALCHEMIST CONSORTIUM HQ — SECTOR 1]
[TIME: 10:15 AM]
Sector 1 was clean. Sky here wasn't grey; it was a simulated blue. Buildings of white marble and gold.
In the office of the Director of Asset Recovery, the air froze.
Director Zhao stared at his desk.
A drone had just dropped a package.
Stained with dried blood.
Inside was an invoice.
[NETHER-CORE TOWER: INVOICE FOR DAMAGES]
[ITEM: EMOTIONAL DISTRESS]
[TOTAL: 10 MILLION]
Zhao didn't scream. Didn't throw things. He was a businessman.
He opened his terminal. Checked Unit 7 status.
[UNIT STATUS: OFFLINE]
[CAPTAIN CHEN: CRITICAL / CRIPPLED]
[SURVIVAL RATE: 0%]
"Interesting," Zhao whispered.
His secretary stood by the door, terrified. "Director? Should we send the riot police? Or Unit 6?"
"No," Zhao said. He picked up the invoice. "Unit 7 was a Tier-C squad. If they were wiped out, this Ren Wu isn't a squatter. He's a Warlord."
Zhao walked to the window, looked down at the pristine streets of the capital.
"Sending more company assets is expensive. If we lose another squad, the Board will dock my bonus."
"Then... we let him go?"
"Of course not." Zhao smiled. A reptilian curling of lips. "We outsource the risk."
He tapped a key on his desk. Holographic contact list flared to life.
He selected a name tagged with a red skull.
[CONTACT: WARLORD KUI]
[ORGANIZATION: IRON-BLOOD MERCENARIES]
[LOCATION: SECTOR 9]
"Get me Warlord Kui," Zhao ordered. "Tell him there is a pest in his territory. Tell him the Alchemist Consortium is offering a bounty. 50,000 Silver for the head of the man in Nether-Core Tower."
"And the building, sir?"
"Burn it," Zhao said. "If I can't have the assets, nobody can."
[LOCATION: NETHER-CORE TOWER — LOBBY]
[TIME: 11:30 PM]
Lobby was a riot.
Not employees. Customers.
A line of smugglers stood at the front desk. Rough men. Scarred faces, soul-knives, heavy crates of contraband. But waiting patiently.
Han was processing them.
"Transit Permit, Class B," Han said, stamping a paper. "That will be 500 Silver. Keep to the marked road. Step off the path, and the Golems won't protect you from the beasts."
The smuggler grunted. Slammed a bag of coins on the counter. "Worth it. Other road is full of bandits."
Ren watched from the mezzanine balcony.
"It's working," Han said, joining him a moment later. Exhausted. But excited. "We've sold 40 transit permits today. Plus subscription fees from the Potion Distillery. We're cash positive for the first time in... ever."
"It's a start," Ren said.
He looked out the window.
Down the street, the neon sign of Boss Ma's Central Warehouse flickered.
Shadows moved around the warehouse.
Rough shapes. Men with heavy weapons and red armbands.
Iron-Blood Gang.
"Sir," Han whispered. "They're surrounding Ma's warehouse. They know he refused us. They're going to make an example of him."
"Of course they are," Ren said. "Warlord Kui thinks I'm weak. He thinks killing Ma will scare me."
"Do we help Ma?"
Ren turned away from the window.
"Not yet."
"Sir?"
"Ma is still the owner," Ren said. Voice dead flat. "If I save him now, he learns nothing. We wait until he loses everything. When he is begging for his life... that is when the price is lowest."
Ren checked his watch.
"Prepare the acquisition contract, Han. We're expanding the business tomorrow."
Author's Note:
The Market is ruthless. Ren isn't saving people; he is acquiring them.
Next Chapter: The Iron-Blood Gang strikes, and Ren goes shopping for a "Distressed Asset."
If you like the Kingdom Building aspect, add to your Library! We are about to buy the whole block.