The Vory

## Prologue

*Golden Coast, Moon Island, 2026*

“Where’s the money?!”

These four words, spoken with anger, were heard by Regius Mason as he was whacked in the face by one of the masked penguins. The hit added more bruises to his already fucked-up face. Another one of them pulled the restrained penguin’s hair so that he would be facing the third accomplice, who held a lupara to his beak.

“Open your fucking mouth!”, the thief with the sawn-off shotgun commanded.

“I-It’s called a beak,” Regius retorted, like the smartass he was.

What happened next was expected by Regius, but not exactly like he predicted. Instead of clubbing him with the handle like he thought the thief would, he heard a loud bang, followed by the sensation of a painful blow to his left foot. It was only then that he realised that the thief had shot his foot, which he would’ve grabbed in pain if it were not for the fact that his flippers were tied up.

The fourth accomplice returned to the room. He gestured to the rest to end Regius’s life. The third complied by shoving the barrel into his beak and launching yet another round. Mere seconds before he was terminated, he could taste the slug inside his mouth as it was launched at high velocity. Having left the mortal world, he thought that he had succeeded by keeping the secret safe. The second accomplice noticed that fragments of the victim’s skull and brains had landed on his jacket, which he proceeded to take off and dump on the floor. “Bloody hell,” he remarked.

“Well, no shit. Thank goodness that I managed to find the stash,” the fourth accomplice said. “Follow me.”

The fourth accomplice led his partners to a room which was filled with a sizeable portion of valuables. Said room happened to have no visible entrance since it was only accessible via an elevator from the house’s secret library. He only managed to find it when he detected something behind the wall that it was hidden behind, and got in by smashing the walls with a sledgehammer.

The thieves were astounded by the contents of the room. There were stacks of banknotes, Club Penguin Coins, gemstones, gold bars and artworks. “What the fuck?!”, the first thief exclaimed in surprise. As he turned to the back, he noticed that his accomplices had already started filling up their inventories with these goods.

“There’s no way that we can fill all of these into our player cards,” the second thief said. “Well, no shit.”

“Looks like we’ll have to fill up the lorry.”

Just then, the thieves spotted something extraordinary. It was a harp that was made of solid platinum.

“Oh gosh, I’ve an idea for this,” one of them claimed. “Let’s auction this off, hijack the money just as its being sent to us, claim that the buyer never paid and repeat the process. We’ll be really rich!”

The Manley Peak of Honk Gong was a distant world from the bustling metropolis. It resembled a secluded retreat more than a suburb near a city. Adding on to the city’s notoriously high property price per square foot, the Manley Peak is the city state’s priciest residential area. In the early years of Puffish rule, only Archipelagoans had the money to build houses in this exclusive area. Later on, the colonial government passed an ordinance which prevented non-Archipelagoans from becoming residents of the Peak (as it was commonly known among the Honk Gongese) unless they had the explicit permission of the governor himself.

8 Diana Road was one of the oldest and one of the most expensive residences on the Peak. It was a sprawling 8,800 square feet three-storey mansion that was built in a colonial style in 1927. While it was not large in comparison to other residences in foreign countries, it was essentially a palace in Honk Gong. The house alone was valued at around 501 million CPC, which is 57,000 CPC per square feet. This was roughly the per-square-feet price of commercial properties in the city-state’s central business district, if not higher. Therefore, the branch of the Mason family that lived in Honk Gong was very influential and had a lot of money even during the days of Puffish rule.

Henry Mason ate the plain congee and youtiao in the mansion’s main dining hall as he read the daily papers. Two of his children, Joanna Mason and Lucas Mason, were eating the same thing as the 64 year old patriarch. There were two jugs on the rotating tray, one filled with orange juice and the other with milk. There were also various fruits on a platter. Despite their wealth, Henry and his family ate like most Honk Gongers (with the exception of the fruit and the beverages) for breakfast, with fares like congee, cheong fun or macaroni soup with ham (a food that their relatives from overseas was unwilling to try) unless it was Sunday. While the children would be permitted to indulge in a full Monty or dim sum, Henry would usually stick to having congee on Sundays.

Just then, there was a yell. Joanna and Lucas looked at their father in shock. “Bloody hell!”, he exclaimed as his flippers, still holding the papers, trembled.

“What is it, papa?”, Joanna inquired. Something bad must have happened to warrant such a reaction from her usually cool and collected father.

“Your brother...h-he’s dead!”

Henry showed them the newspapers. There was an article detailing the destruction of their famed relative Emperor Slender’s house in Moon Island’s Golden Coast, which happened the day before. According to the article, it was blown up with military-grade explosives. 12 corpses were found, including their brother Regius’s. He had been sent there to safeguard the property in the midst of the Shops Civil War. He was only identified thanks to a bracelet that he was wearing at the time. Nothing was left of his head.

The two went and embraced their father as he sobbed over his deceased son. It was worse than the time that he lost over 400 million CPC from trading futures.

“I swear that I will take the lives of whoever responsible for his death before mine ends!”, Henry exclaimed.

## Chapter 1: Politicians Need Not Worry About Their Expenses

*10 years later*

“Sir, His Imperial Excellency the Emperor of Nexon gave this to you,” the aide said to the newly elected President of Moon Island, Penstubal, as he laid a black velvet gift box on his desk. “Thank you,” he replied before dismissing him.

Opening it, there was a black credit card and a letter from the Emperor. It was one that he had never seen before in his entire life. He started reading the letter.

*This credit card allows you to spend with unlimited credit. Since you are a friend of mine, I’m willing to pay off any debt that you may incur in this card, to a reasonable extent. As the leader of a country, you should live like a king without being constrained by your meagre emolument. Therefore, I believe that it’s more fitting for you to have an alternate source of income, but be careful not to spend too ridiculously.*

Could this be the legendary Black Card issued by the Avaritas Bank?, wondered the president. There was an urban legend that several public figures own a black credit card, which does not have a credit limit and provides various perks to them (most notably an exclusive concierge service). He decided to immediately put this to test.

After guessing what Slender would consider to be reasonable spending, Stubal ordered his aides to arrange for a trip to one of Dancing Penguin City’s best tailors. After getting his fittings measured, he ordered 8 bespoke suits, each at the cost of 4,000 CPC. He then bought 8 different silk ties and cuff links on the spot with the credit card. Even though the purchase for those accessories costed nearly 10,000 CPC, it was approved and he found out that the balance was clearly immediately after the purchase. Weeks later when the suits were finally finished and it was time to pay for them, the purchase was also approved.

This could be very useful, Penstubal thought.

Damian Axelrod suffered from the aftershock of the previous night’s party, in the form of a hangover, as he laid on the four-poster bed of his penthouse suite in the Piques (Spades) Tower. The Ace Tower, along with the Cœurs (Hearts) Tower, Carreaux (Diamonds) Tower and Trèfles (Clovers) Tower, was part of the integrated casino resort known as the Argent Resorts. Aside from casinos and hotels, it also consisted of a shopping mall, convention centre and an amusement park.

Axelrod did not have to worry about checking out from his suite, as he owned the Resorts. Despite being shown on the resort’s website as a suite that could be rented at a cost of 36,000 CPC per night, the 2 storied penthouse suite (also called the Ace of Spades Suite) was a de facto residence of the owner. Anytime someone inquired about the suite’s availability, they would be told that it was booked by someone else. It was more or less a public secret in the gambling industry of Golden Coast that Axelrod would be the only occupant of the prestigious Ace of Spades Suite unless ownership of Argent Resorts ever changed.

Taking the golden telephone, he began to order his staff to cook him a meal. “I’d like the usual Hangover Fry Up, along with a teapot of Darjeeling and a bottle of whiskey,” Axelrod said before hanging up. Moments later, several of his employees entered his room as they laid the enormous plate of 10 sausages, 15 bacons, 8 fried eggs, 5 hash browns, a large puddle of baked beans, 10 toasts and 4 black puddings on the dining table. They also put his desired beverages on the table.

“What the fuck?!”, exclaimed Axelrod all of a sudden as he drank from the tea. “I asked for Darjeeling, not fucking Puffish Breakfast!”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” one of the servers apologised profusely. Before more could be said, the enraged casino magnate punched him in the face. As a result, his nose was bleeding.

“Get out of this building, you shithead!”, he yelled again. This time he took a quick glance at the server’s name.

The sacked server ran off, crying, while the rest silently left the suite. After ensuring that all of them had left the floor, Axelrod began dialling another employee of his. “There’s a server that I had just fired for fucking up my breakfast. I want you to make an example of him,” he said to a Creature Resources manager of his before he hanged up again.

As he ate his breakfast, he turned on the television and switched to a particular channel. It showed the server being beaten up by some goons before they blinded his face with acid, permanently disfiguring him, and severed one of his flippers. They then dumped him at the poorest slums of San Anderrie. “Perfect treatment for a fuckhead who decided to screw with my breakfast,” he said to himself before he consumed 3 bacons with a single bite and drank an entire glass of whiskey in one gulp.

There’s paying hookers for sex, and there’s paying people to be fucked in front of their partners.

On the streets of San Anderrie, the standard 15 minutes-long fellatio and intercourse costs approximately 70 Luna, while it’s 140 Luna and 250 Luna for 30 minutes and 1 hour respectively for the same services. Escort services, which offer an experience on a whole new level, cost approximately 400-1000 Luna to hire. For those who are making the big bucks, there is a plethora of sophisticated ladies for them to choose from. They are usually hired for certain events or to deliver gratification to the needs of these clients. Professional escorts like these cost upwards of thousands of Luna to employ per night, or even per hour if their performance is exceptional. It is not unusual for clients to develop long-term relationships with them and offering them the chance to become their mistresses in exchange for a fixed sum of money per month, as well as any possible gifts that they might endow. Once they leave their agencies’ employment, they might even become their unofficial wives, if not their wives.

Chuck Ng, however, belonged to a higher level than any of these. It was habitual of him to barge into the house of a beautiful lady who’s not available with a swarm of goons, just like what he’s doing to Janice Prince’s house at the moment. He immediately caught sight of the beautiful Janice, who was a PengTuber with rather stunning looks, sitting in the living room with her boyfriend. The goons performed their duty by immediately restraining the PengTuber’s partner, with one of them pointing a gun at him.

“What do you want?!”, asked Janice as Chuck and some of his honchos surrounded her. It was then that he gave her the most creepy-looking smile she had ever laid her sight on in her entire life.

“How much do you cost?”, Chuck inquired.

“Excuse me?”, Janice replied with some confusion.

“How much does it cost for me to have sex with you, right now?”

The PengTuber was stunned by the intruder’s demand. She was lost for words for a brief moment before she mustered the courage to decline him.

“I’m afraid that’s simply not possible.”

“Well then, would 200,000 Luna do the job?”, Chuck asked before his honchos dumped stacks of Lunas on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. Janice and her boyfriend were even more shocked than before. They were simply too surprised to utter a word at this point.

“Of course 200 grand isn’t enough. I should’ve expected that,” the wealthy intruder said before he ordered his men to dump more stacks of banknotes on the table. “800,000 Luna.”

Chuck glanced at the boyfriend, who finally had the guts to say something.

“I mean, you could if you want,” he said nervously as he looked at the thugs. If this scumbag had come here by himself, he would’ve outright rejected him and tried to kick his ass. However, the circumstances were quite precarious at the moment as he had a gun pointed to his face. Some of the thugs appeared to be armed with submachine guns too.

“Alright,” Janice conceded before exhaling. “Just don’t hurt him, okay?”

“Well, it’s not simple as that. I’m going to offer you an additional 1.6 million if you are willing to let me impregnate you, as well as another 1 million to let some of my honchos have their way with you,” Chuck said.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, Janice screamed before the thugs gave her boyfriend a brutal beating. He was covered in bruises and blood.

“Look, you don’t want me to lose my patience. You can either take it, or don’t,” Chuck threatened.

By now, Janice was full of tears. She nodded hesitatingly. “Fine! Do whatever!”, she yelled at Chuck. This gave Chuck more gratification. His grin became even creepier.

Chuck proceeded to unclothe himself and the PengTuber in the living room, in front of his thugs and her boyfriend. They then engage in various sexual acts before Chuck was finally done with her. At some point, she even appeared to be enjoying it. After that, it was the honchos’ turn. 7 thugs had their way with her as some others filmed the act. If Janice and her boyfriend ever attempted to get an abortion or call Chuck out on his acts, the visual recording would be released to the public.

Chuck was a rather media-shy individual, in spite of his ownership of Mona Bank (one of Moon Island’s largest banks). Initially a loan shark around the time of the Shops Civil War, his business boomed as many borrowed money from him in order to reconstruct their homes (thanks to his comparatively generous interest rates). He would often offer payday loans. Chuck quickly expanded to opening pawn shops around the island, and also lent money to gamblers. For people who failed to pay back their debts as a result of having no income streams, he would offer them jobs to work in a stevedoring company that he jointly owned with several other partners. They would then work at discounted wages for the company for a considerable period of time at the container terminals and warehouses of another Moon Islander named Andrew Choi.

Later on, he founded Mona Bank, in which he held a 60% stake, followed by Andrew’s 10% and Damian’s 10%. Chuck also founded two joint ventures with these two individuals, with one of them dealing with real estate development and the other dealing with shipbuilding. By now, he estimated his own net worth to be around 7.8 billion CPC. Andrew was the wealthiest among the three, having an estimated 9.7 billion CPC, while Damian had 5.7 billion CPC for his net worth. Even then, the public knew little to nothing about their wealth, and they weren’t exactly the wealthiest individuals in the country. The religious leader Johannes Blanc, who’s the Chief Priest and High Prophet of the notorious Fire Guardian cult (which was popular in Golden Coast and said to have blessed the lands with its gold deposits, oil and natural gas), was worth around 23.3 billion CPC thanks to donations and his stakes in the real estate (as the largest landowner in the state, if not the country), finance, light manufacturing, mining, gambling and retail industries. In addition to them, Lucas Mason, who controlled and owned the Mason family’s interests in Moon Island (given to him by his cousin Slender in the aftermath of the Shops Civil War), was the second wealthiest individual with 17 billion CPC in net assets.

The security personnel scanned the queue of guests with their eyeballs before doing so with their metal detectors. There was a strange air of tension as some of the guests looked around in suspicion. Others were forced to hand in their firearms to the guards as they were admitted into the auditorium.

Damian took huge risks by hosting this most unusual of auctions in his tropical resort, which he closed for the entire week to host this gathering of wealthy sexual perverts. In exchange for organising the auctioning of some girls’ virginities, he would be paid lucrative commission fees. The auction was very simple - a virgin girl would walk down a runway in various revealing outfits, before finally walking down the runway naked. The guests would then bid for the experience of taking her virginity. In past auctions, the bidding price shot up to as high as 1.7 million CPC.

The guests and their bodyguards took their seats as the technical staff prepared the girls for the big show. As it all happened, Damian and some of his bodyguards were watching the entire event from the control room of the auditorium.

“You know Jake, these guys are fucking hypocrites,” the boss mentioned while taking a smoke of his cigar.

“How so?”, the lieutenant asked.

“Some of them preach about morality and yet, here they are paying to take some girl’s virginity even though they are already married. Some cunts they are.”

“No shit, boss. What do you expect from guys who pay to take someone’s virginity?”

“Yeah, but some of them are prominent figures. Take a look,” Damian said as he gave Jake a pair of binoculars. “Look over there,” he guided his lieutenant to the seat in the middle row.

“That guy looked familiar. He has a triple-tiered crown, so is he the Nexonan Emperor Slender?”

“What?!”, Damian said as he took another pair of binoculars for himself to look at the individual. He was indeed wearing a triple-tiered crown, but he was wearing a bow tie, a rather eccentric-looking business suit, a bow tie and a ninja mask. The blue-feathered penguin also appeared to be holding a staff.

“That’s not Slender. That’s TurtleShroom Jones. He was the Dictator of the Club Penguin Weekee and he was known to be a staunch pro-morality figure. He serves as the Censor of Life in Mattress Village, which is probably the most socially conservative town in Antarctica. It’s really a joke for him to be paying huge amount of cash to take a girl’s virginity,” Damian explained to his lieutenant, showing off his knowledge of notable figures in the world.

“Hold up, didn’t he use to claim that he was celibate? Every fucking male can see through such a crappy lie.”

“Oh well, this is what people have to do for money and power. I personally don’t believe in paying to take a girl’s virginity, yet I’m hosting this hypocrisy because I can rake huge commissions from it,” Damian explained with a tone of regret as he took a drink from a glass of whiskey.

“Hold up, boss, is that the Deputy Governor of Golden Coast?”, Jake asked as he peered at someone else.

“Uh, yeah,” Damian replied as he took a better look. “Wait, this is some good ammunition.”

“For what?”

“As blackmail against the Governor. I fucking hate that guy.”

“Huh?”

“There were some personal problems between him and my pals.”

“Oh, we should’ve utilised everything we have in our disposal to prevent his election.”

“Well, that’s not as simple as you think. That guy, Jordan Tang, has mafia connections like we do.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Why yes. In fact, he’s the secret head of the largest criminal organisation in Golden Coast, if not Moon Island itself.”

“Oh, why does he not screw us with his political authority?”

“Well, our problems are more personal than business. Plus, he’s a man of honour. He won’t fuck our business up over our own private affairs.”

“Not true, boss. He rejected Andrew’s bid to purchase a gold mine.”

“At least he has not damaged any of our existing interests yet. If he does, we have good cannon fodder now,” said Damian with a smile as he ordered his men to take photos of the deputy governor.

“Oh, and he also happened to be buddies with Johannes Blanc and fucking Blanc’s twin sister Chloe. Gaining the favour of the region’s conservatives also gave him a lot of sway. Rumours had it that they were using some of Blanc’s temples to manufacture heroin and meth on a massive scale.”

“Wait, what the actual fuck?”

## Chapter 2: Mafia Presidency

It was the most unusual of dining spots, but as a wise man once put it, “a plate of well-prepared spaghetti carbonara is still palatable even if you have it in the junkyard”. Therefore, the location in which Philippe Tomas dines at is of no matter of concern to him. All he cared about is the food.

The savoury smell of the meat filled the room as it was grilled on an electronically-heated Joseanean marble stone grill. A plethora of banchan (Joseanese side dishes), including kimchi made from napa cabbage (the most usual type of kimchi), namul (steamed, marinated, or stir-fried vegetables usually seasoned with sesame oil, salt, vinegar, minced garlic, chopped green onions, dried chili peppers, and soy sauce), pajeon (thin pancakes with scallion) and gyeran-mari (rolled omelette), was laid out in various small bowls on a table at one side of the grill. Besides them was a plate of lettuces.

Philippe began wrapping a piece of freshly grilled meat with lettuce, followed by adding some ssamjang (a thick Joseonean spicy paste), some kimchi made from napa cabbage and some banchan (Korean side dishes). He then put it in his mouth and chewed the delicious lettuce wrap, relishing the explosion of flavours in his mouth, before he drank a bowl of makgeolli (a milky, off-white and lightly sparkling Joseonean rice wine has a slight viscosity that tastes slightly sweet, tangy, bitter, and astringent).

“Do you enjoy your meal?”, Philippe asked Terry Sean as he prepared another lettuce wrap.

“FUCK NO, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!”, screamed Terry in agony. He was crucified to a X-shaped cross made of wood, and his wrists were attached to the cross with barbed wire.

“If you don’t, then it’s a shame. This is a truly terrific dish, and you will be made to enjoy it,” Philippe said just as he finished making the wrap. He then forcibly stuffed it into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare spit it out,” the gourmet said as he held a gun to Sean’s forehead. “Chew it or die.”

Under the threat of death, Terry mustered all of his guts to not spit this apparently delicious wrap out. He began to slowly chew on it, and realised that it’s not as bad as he’d thought after all. Philippe was able to sense that he subtly enjoyed it just by reading his body language alone. He smiled and continued making more lettuce wraps.

He took one of the knives and sliced off yet another piece of Terry’s left flipper. Several pieces had already been sliced off from it to make the initial wraps. It was time for round two.

Two hours or so later, Philippe emerged from the presidential palace’s basement dining room that was also his private torture chamber. Several guards approached him.

“You know what to do with that body,” the President of New Delphis said.

“Will that be a stew of devil’s curry, Your Excellency?”

“Yes, tell that to Chef Lecter. He’ll understand,” explained Philippe as he walked to his office suite.

What did Terry do to warrant having his own flesh cut off of him and grilled in front of his very eyes as he’s still conscious and alive? He decided to stalk one of the President’s various mistresses, who lived in their own luxury apartment suites around Sunset City. The mistress was a notable social media influencer, which was how Terry knew about her in the first place. The 15 year old Terry was suffering from social anxiety and awkwardness as a result of puberty, and when he first caught sight of the 19 year old Chiara, she instantly became part of his masturbatory fantasies. This went beyond his usual infatuations, however, and he decided to start following her around town.

As for Philippe, he believed that he reacted appropriately. He paid them each a monthly cash allowance of 32,000 CPC, which was far more than what a cardiologist would be able to earn, as well as a 3 bedroom apartment in one of Sunset City’s most prestigious districts that cost 8,500 CPC per month to rent (paid for by the President) and a Porsche 982 (the expenses for which are also paid for). Seeing that his investments into these 20 or so women are quite costly, he did not want them to be stalked by creeps at all. Anyone who messed with his assets will pay deeply. That was not all, for he also enjoyed some fellow penguins every now and then.

Philippe was by no means a dictator. While his presidency has been described as “authoritarian”, it was not truly tyrannical in the sense that it gave him virtually unlimited power. He was granted the power to declare a state of emergency or martial law, which would allow him to rule by decree as the absolute ruler. However, it would not be in his best interest to declare a state of emergency under normal circumstances. Even then, he was given the powers to draft, propose and sign legislative bills (in his capacity as Chief Legislator), preside over the Supreme Court as the Chief Justice (a position which could be delegated to someone else), head the Delphian Intelligence Agency (DIA, which is modelled after the Shopper Intelligence Agency), detain anyone believed to be instigating unrest without trial for up to 3 years (thanks to the Social Harmony Act), issue Executive Orders (that effectively act as law unless vetoed by the Supreme Court and the Legislature), preside over the National Economic Council (which oversees the government’s involvement in the national economy, such as the creation and management of state-owned companies and sovereign wealth funds) and appoint public officials. This made him even more powerful than his predecessor Philip Ricci.

Philippe had done great things as the President of New Delphis. Not only did its economy manage to recover to its pre-Shops Civil War rate of growth, it also reached new peaks as economic activity in Polaris was diverted to the country. The Polarian government ended up having almost one-third of its land purchased by the Delphian government. Nevertheless, the man had his own shortcomings too, especially since the republic’s crime rate skyrocketed under his administration. It might or might not have something to do with his role as the secret head of the Delphian Criminal Triads, which took part in racketeering, trafficking and other criminal activities. It was thanks to this that allowed him to rake in an astonishing 7.38 billion WB$ a year, which itself was topped up by the roughly 2 billion WB$ that he embezzled from state coffers every year.

As soon as Philippe reached his office suite, he saw two briefcases on his desk. Upon opening them, packages of pure cocaine from Latin Antarctica were revealed in the first briefcase, as well as packages of pure heroin in the second. He smiled with satisfaction before he put most of them into his vault. He took four packages of cocaine and heroin and went back to his dungeon. This time, he approached another penguin tied to a X-shaped cross.

“Hello there,” Philippe freeted with a smile as he loaded up a syringe with a mixture of cocaine and heroin. “So you are the guy who attempted to steal 10 kilos of my goods, huh?”

“Mr. President, it’s a misunderstanding-“, the victim explained before he was interrupted by a punch to his face. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll give them to you, plus some extra.”

The President started injecting the thief with the cocktail of narcotics. As they entered his blood stream, the victim’s heartbeat skyrocketed. After the first syringe was used up, Philippe continued the entire process all over again until the victim started foaming in his beak.

“YOU POOR SHIT, PAY THE FUCK UP!”, the muscular penguin demanded of the skinny penguin as he started holding him in a chokehold while three other thugs gang-raped his sister in front of him in their small one-bedroom apartment at one of Sunset City’s poorest suburbs.

“Sir, my sister is suffering from terminal cancer-“, the man attempted to clarify before the muscular penguin hit him in the crotch with an iron pipe.

“WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR SISTER UNLESS YOU DON’T PAY YOUR FUCKING INTEREST, IN WHICH CASE WE WILL FUCK YOUR SISTER MANY TIMES OVER!”, the head thug barked at the man as he continued to rough him out with the pipe.

“S-surely...t-there must be another way to pay...”

“Your kidneys are most useful. In fact, we’ll take that from you!”, the muscular penguin said as the thugs led the debtor to the apartment next door to his. When the door was opened, a man in a white coat that was splashed with some crimson red substance greeted the thugs and the debtor.

“Ah, another person who wants to pay by kidneys eh?”, the man in the white coat enquired.

“PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”

“SHUT UP!”, the head thug yelled as he shoved the man into the apartment. At the centre of the room was an operating table.

The terminally ill sister heard some bloody screams, most likely from her brother, as she herself was tormented by the thugs. Several hours later, the men walked back into the apartment. “Your brother lost too much blood. You are to pay off his debts to us now,” the head thug said rudely to the sister just as she was beginning to put her clothes back on.

“But I can barely work...”

“Hmm, how long do you have left?”

“About 4 months...”

“Boys, our money can’t be recouped back. Y’all know what to do,” the head thug commanded before some of the thugs grabbed her and threw her off the building.

To anyone who had ever been to a worship session in the Fire Guardian Cult’s Grand Temple, the experience was truly enthralling. Before entering the gargantuan neo-gothic main building, one would have to go through a metal detector to see if they are in possession of any forbidden weapons. After that, they would be greeted by the sight of multiple entrances on several floors leading into the preaching hall (which was the amphitheater). The amphitheater had a capacity of over 16,000 creatures.

“We should be grateful for the generous gifts that the Fire Guardian has endowed our lands,” Chief Priest Johannes Blanc would often preach during the sessions, referring to the Golden Coast’s vast mineral wealth. He was dressed in an ornate white robe and he was also wielding a platinum staff with an emerald mounted on top.

“Do you know why my Ancestor did such a noble thing? It is because he loves us all and he wants us to have the best,” he would also remind the audiences he was a descendant of the very deity that the cult worships. “PRAISE BE THE FIRE GUARDIAN!”

“PRAISE BE THE FIRE GUARDIAN!”, the crowd would chant.

“WE SHALL GIVE EVERYTHING WE HAVE TO YOU, OUR PROTECTOR!”, he would chant, followed by the audience.

“WHETHER IT’S OUR RESOURCES, OUR ENERGY, OUR BODIES OR OUR LIVES!”, Blanc would say, referring to the money, efforts, sex and occasionally lives that members of the cult had sacrificed to the following.

“NOW, I SHALL CHOOSE SOME OF YOU TO SERVE THE FIRE GUARDIAN”, the Chief Priest would say, before he announced the names of several physically attractive ladies in the audience and called them to the stage. He knew about them since his cronies had already screened through which woman would Johannes want to sleep with. As soon as they waddled to the stage, the Chief Priest would ask the audience to give the women a round of applause for their “noble contributions to the Guardian”.

After the session was over, Johannes pulled them into his secret bedchamber within the bedchamber and made love to them. When he’s done, he clothed himself, slapped them on their buttocks and waddled to the basement of the temple.

If anyone saw what he saw next, they would be in for a shock. There were dozens of machines that workers operated on to manufacture heroin and meth. There were also cargoes of raw materials to make the products, as well as cargoes of the finished product. A penguin who appeared to be the manager and another bespectacled penguin met Johannes.

Manager: “Sir, the Delphians ordered another 600 kilos of heroin.”

Blanc: “Alright, carry out the work within the allocated timeframe.”

Manager: “Yes sir! By the way, the accountant would like to speak to you.”

The bespectacled penguin adjusted his red tie and turned to his boss.

Accountant: “I’ve paid off the people in our payroll, sir.”

Blanc: “Excellent. Did you pay off Jordan Tang?”

Accountant: “Of course, sir. 3 boxes of cigars from Cuadra as you’ve instructed, along with the 3,000,000 Luna wortb of shares in Kramer Shipping Co.”

Blanc: “Well done.”

## Chapter 3: Neo-feudal Monarch

Several nude virgin ladies formed a line in front of one of the Emperor’s various country estates, which was built in a Palladian style. The chamberlain and several guards awaited the Emperor’s limousine, which soon appeared.

The Emperor, who was dressed in a tweed jacket and his usual four-tiered crown, stepped out of the car after a guard opened the door for him. He took a look at the girls, and then at the chamberlain. “Sir, the women are ready for your inspection,” the chamberlain said.

The Emperor glared at the chamberlain for a moment. His anger-flushed face frightened the servant to the extent that he started sweating bullets. However, the monarch switched to a devilish smile. “It’s ‘Your Imperial Majesty’, but I’ll spare you from the guillotine this time,” he warned before he started inspecting the virgins. He pointed his flipper at several of them before they were led back into the estate, while the remaining women were led by the guards to somewhere else. After they were gone, the Emperor turned to the commander of the guards.

“Take him in for the game,” the Emperor commanded. The chamberlain’s face paled in an instant. He started sobbing alligator tears from his eyes. “Please don’t do this, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said repeatedly as the guards took him away to the same direction as the remaining women.

“Maybe you’ll learn your lesson when you are reincarnated to serve me again,” the Emperor muttered under his breath before he walked back into the estate.

After a while, the Emperor and several of his cronies boarded a jeep. All of them were wearing traditional shooing jackets and holding hunting rifles. There was a container on the jeep, in which contained more weapons. The jeep’s driver started steering it into the hunting grounds, which was basically a piece of flat grassland with some trees in between.

As the vehicle moved, naked penguins started running around the area. Some of them were the women that the Emperor had rejected to bed, while one of them was the chamberlain. The hunting party started shooting the penguins, who were unsuccessful in fleeing from the jeep. With a quick aim of his rifle, the Emperor shot the Chamberlain clean through the head. He then took out a rocket launcher from the container and started firing rockets at some of the prey. “GET FRIED”, “BOOM SHAKALAKA” and “fucked ‘em good” were among the words that the Emperor cried whenever he shot someone.

After the hunt, the gamekeepers collected the carcasses and brought them back into the estate, where they were cooked into multiple delicious dishes by the chefs. Meanwhile, the Emperor fucked the brains out of some of the virgins before he had dinner with some nobles.

There were appetisers of antipasti, made from penguin meat, along with lionfish salami. Following this was lobster bisque, and an avocado salad. The next course was penguin meat stewed in red wine, served alongside a side dish of rich mashed potato with even richer gravy. Fruits and cheese were served for pudding. The nobles were rather upset, as their children and even their wives were among the penguins who were hunted not long ago by the Emperor. Previously, they were found to be plotting to secede from the Nexonan empire. This was the Emperor’s punishment.

After the pudding course, the Emperor grinned and stood up. “So, how’s the meal?”, he asked while facing one of the aristocrats. “It’s good-“, the aristocrat said after sitting silent before the Emperor took out a pistol and shot him clean in the head. “I’m not really feeling your enthusiasm. What about you?”, he asked another aristocrat.

With tears trickling down from his eyes, he mustered a reply. “I-it’s fabulous, Your Imperial Majesty,” the aristocrat said. The Emperor smiled and proceeded to ask the same question to the rest of the diners, who managed to avoid being shot. “Let’s take a group photo, shall we?”, the ruler asked after he was satisfied by everyone’s answers. “Gather against the wall.”

After the nobles gathered there, a squadron of soldiers entered the room and shot all of the nobles dead with assault rifles. The Emperor took an assault rifle from one of the soldiers and emptied several more rounds into the corpses before he walked back into his bedchamber, gesturing for the nobles to dispose the bodies.

This story was not full of bad guys, however. There were some good guys, but it was important to note that they weren’t good guys in the conventional sense. It was ironic that the true protagonist of the story, SlenderXP, shared the same name as the ruthless Nexonan Emperor. The two penguins’ backgrounds couldn’t be more different. SlenderXP was born to middle-class parents in Austiceia, while Slender was a scion of the Nexonan royal family. Austiceia, which was a former Puffish colony, was rich in natural resources, thus allowing the colony to develop a powerful economy. As a result, the country had the ability to afford a high education level for its inhabitants. It was in the University of Millbourne that SlenderXP gained a Juris Doctorate at a young age (thanks to and became a lawyer specialising in real estate and taxation. After a mere few years, he became a partner in one of the country’s most prestigious law firms.

After raking in millions (and hundreds-fold of that for his firm), SlenderXP was betrayed by his fellow partners and voted out of partnership. They also convinced the Bar Association to disbar him, which caused him to lose the right to practice law. This incident made him so depressed to the extent that he contemplated suicide. However, he decided against it and began to train himself in the art of marksmanship, armed and unarmed combat. He then started killing off his main betrayers (either by murdering them or made it appear as if they died in accidents), eventually forcing the rest to concede to him by helping him to regain his license. However, peace was rejected, and SlenderXP convinced several of his friends in the firm to join his own law firm. Within a few years, the original law firm became bankrupt.

Nexon was a country around 3/4 the size of Eastshield located east of Eastshield. The absolute monarchy was abundant in various forms of mineral wealth, even more so than Austiceia (and some say the USA itself), making the royal family exceedingly wealthy. However, after the Shopppers’ rise to power in 2013, the country feared that it would be the next target of Shopper imperialism. It negotiated a deal to become an autonomous territory of Shops, in exchange for retaining the monarchy (which basically acted as a hereditary governor, albeit with constitutional safeguards), a distinct military force and autonomy. During the Shops Civil War, the Nexonans broke free from Shopper rule.

Emperor Slender decided to launch a violent coup, which effectively wiped out democracy in the country when many aristocrats and elected politicians were beheaded. He then conducted several lucrative trade deals with countries like the USA and Polaris in order to fill Shops’s gap as their trade partner. This led to a boom in the Nexonan economy, which in turn gave him the ability to build up Nexon’s military. By 2036, the country’s military had already surpassed Zhou’s and Snowzerland’s. These factors afforded him a lot of leverage to rule with an iron fist.

Our protagonist, the senior partner of Asiapelago’s largest law firm, returned back to his house in Sydden’s Pier Piper. Pier Piper was the city’s, and perhaps the country’s, most exclusive suburb. Despite the fact that it was quite small compared to the giga-mansions surrounding it, SlenderXP managed to calculate that his house had a market value of 25 million CPC. As his Jaguar E-Type reached the doorway, he could to hear the tunes of Moonlight Sonata. He entered the house and the first thing he saw was his wife playing the house’s piano. While he was dressed in a grey three-piece suit that was made of linen and brogues, she in turn was just wearing an orange sports bra and a pair of athletic shorts. This might have something to do with the fact that it’s summertime in Austiceia.

“You’re really early today, dear,” Queenie Everett commented as she continued to play the piano. “Yeah, I didn’t have to meet a client today,” the lawyer replied as he approached his wife and embraced her. “Did you just finish working out?”, he said when his nose, if penguins had noses, was struck by a rather sweaty smell emitting from Queenie.

“I gotta stay fit,” the former athlete replied after she stopped playing the piano. “I never became as fit as I used to be after Gavin hatched. Speaking of which, my grandparents decided to take Gavin out to Boondi Beach today,” she winked.

“That place is crowded as fuck at this time of the year. They should’ve taken him to Orca Beach.”

Queenie rolled her eyes. “Gavin’s not home, which means nobody else is home,” she winked again. Her husband looked at her blankly before he came to a realisation. “Ohhh, I get it now.”

SlenderXP pulled Queenie to the couch and started taking what’s left of her clothes off, revealing her athletic body-frame and a very slender waist. “By the way, you do know that you being not fit is a bloody lie, and I’m gonna punish you for being such a naughty girl,” he muttered as they kissed each other.

If you thought that paying 250 Luna for 1 hour of sex in San Anderrie is ridiculous, try paying 2.8 times of that at 700 CPC per hour on the island known as Yolkshire. This island republic nearby the Republic of Margate is known to be the most economically liberal and least affordable country in the world. As long as there’s a demand for something, said something would always be available provided that the consumer has enough money. After Margate introduced bank transparency laws and New Delphis effectively became a mafia state, high net worth individuals and corporations began to look elsewhere to launder their money. The disowned son of the Nexonan Emperor, Stanley Mason, took the opportunity and completely changed the country.

An investment banker in Dexter Bryan Langley, Stanley managed to make incomprehensible amounts of money for the bank per annum by trading various derivatives on commodities and foreign currencies. This allowed him to earn emoluments that amounted to tens of millions of CPC annually. However, when he was passed over for promotion to the company’s CEO role, he decided to leave the bulge-bracket bank and start his own boutique bank.

The over-qualified Stanley was also qualified as an attorney who specialised in taxation. The conversion of New Delphis into a mafia state made him realised that there was a need for a new tax shelter. In addition, the fact that the Zhouese government’s promise of preseving Honk Gong’s economic and political system for at least 50 years was about to expire, meant that people were looking for another financial hub in case the Zhouese government decided to regulate Honk Gong’s liberal finance sector. He decided to move his bank to Yolkshire and, with the help of several local lawyers, founded an offshore law firm that specialised in helping the wealthy to avoid taxes. Meanwhile, his bank was designed to help them hide and invest wealth. Needless to say, the local economy boomed and he made a lot of money.

The island’s services attracted lots of professionals in financial and legal services. With his achievement, Stanley ran for the Presidency and won by a huge margin. He lowered the country’s already low income tax rate to 0% and started giving out citizenship to wealthy creatures who used the country’s services. Seeing a need for vices among the professionals, he also legalised drugs, gambling and prostitution. The island’s most beautiful and most handsome, who were renowned for their natural beauty, joined the sex trade en masse. Those who didn’t wish to sell their bodies for a living either became professionals in finance or law, or they became involved in the country’s casinos or bars. Anyone else was basically subjected to a harsh life when living costs skyrocketed. This was a country where prices were 2.8 times that of South Pole City’s.

Due to the country’s neutral status, further augmented by the Yolkshirian President’s strained relationship with his father the Nexonan despot, many use the island as a neutral zone. A recent auction for a harp made of platinum, sold by Chuck Ng, resulted in speculations that Philippe Thomas, Slender and Jordan Tang were interested in acquiring it. It was decided that the auction would be held at Yolkshire, which also resulted in The Oligarch Trio of Moon Island traveling to the island.

As Andrew Choi’s DS420 limousine motored from Benedict International Airport to the Presidential Palace in the CBD, he was in a state of elation. The car was actually one of the Yolkshirian President’s official state cars, but he allowed Andrew to use it for the duration of his stay in the country. Pouring a glass of whiskey from the limo’s compartment, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it’s like to be a head of state.

When he entered the CBD, he began to see many luxury cars on the streets. Ferrari’s, Lamborghini’s, Aston Martin’s, Porsche’s, Bentley’s and Range Rover outnumbered ordinary cars on the street that was home to several bulge-bracket investment banks and law firms. “So this is the foundation of Yolkshire, eh?”, he asked himself. The modernist skyscrapers, most of which were over 100-storey tall, were an impressive sight to behold.

File:YolkshirePresidentPalace.jpeg
Taking a turn into Mason Avenue, more greenery could be seen. Several parks could be seen on the left, along with the Presidential Palace. It was a three-storey mansion built in colonial Puffish style. Two Presidential Guards in ceremonial uniforms were standing guard in front of the main entrance. Within the compound, there were some regular soldiers there who were wielding UMP submachine guns and M249 light machine guns. The chauffeur turned to the passenger. “Sir, the President just directed me to drive to his private residence instead. He sent his most sincere apologies,” he explained to Andrew.

“No worries.”

The limousine started driving towards the city’s Stanley Hills, which was the island’s most exclusive neighbourhood. As they entered the realm, the streets were completely filled with classic luxury cars, as well as modern ultra-luxury cars. All of the residences were mansions that had a classical design. The car went passed these houses and eventually found itself at a higher part of the suburb. There was a guard house in front of them, along with a rather ordinary gate. A penguin in suit, sunglasses and an earpiece took a look at them before allowing the car to enter.

The house was rather modest compared to the ones below it, yet it still had a classy aura. An aide opened the door for Andrew and led him into the house. It was furnished in a style that resembled a combination of Puffish country homes and Puffish colonial bungalows in Hindia, albeit with some modern additions. Oil paintings could also be seen on the walls. He eventually led Andrew to a gazebo outside, where Stanley Mason was having afternoon tea. There was a teapot made of fine Zhou, two tea cups, and a tiered stand filled with food. The highest tier consisted of finger sandwiches with curried chicken fillings, the middle tier consisted of scones with clotted cream and jam, and the lowest tier was composed of some eclairs and macarons.

“Good afternoon. Do help yourself over here. My wife made all of these,” the President greeted him as he poured a cup of tea for him. “Good afternoon to you too, Mr. President,” Andrew replied back while he slathered some cream and jam on the scone. “It is sumptuous, sir. By the way, you’ve got a really unique house,” he complimented.

“Why, thank you. It is indeed a comfortable home.”

“My partners would like to deposit a total of 20 million CPC in your bank, Mr. President.”

Adjusting his semi-framed glasses, the President stopped drinking from his cup and looked at him in surprise. “Mr. Choi, you do realise that I’m no longer responsible for managing ‘my’ bank, right?”

“Actually sir, I’ve no idea.”

“Well, I’m no longer the CEO. I’m just the non-executive chairman of all my companies now. My real job is to be the guardian of this island’s success,” Stanley said, hinting that he considered his presidency to be his sole focus for now.

Andrew was perplexed why he would give up on running his bank and his compensation as CEO. Just as he was about to talk, the President cut him off. “I already make a lot from my rental income and stock dividends.”

Seeing that Stanley owned nearly half of all of the CBD’s buildings and that he had a stake in all of the country’s banks, his annual income alone would’ve been enough to be 9 figure high.

“Thanks for the ride, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. I mostly use my state cars to fetch my guests nowadays.”

As they continued chatting, Andrew realised that there was something different about Stanley compared to other heads of state. He was rather faithful to his wife and he did not steal a single cent from the public treasury. Despite having the air of an aristocrat, he also appeared to be humble. Unlike his father, he was also not someone who would arbitrarily kill someone and eat their flesh.

It’s that time of the year again.

Stubal’s jet touched down in Shops City International Airport. As it entered the Shopper mainland’s airspace, he couldn’t help but remark how different it was politically compared to many years ago. Prior to the Shops Civil War, Shops Island was the second most powerful country in the Antarctic world. However, a series of confusing events meant that all of its non-mainland territories and protectorates have seceded. The most notable losses are New Delphis, Notron, Nexon (which used to be a Shopper protectorate), the Marmade Islands and the Frosian Islands.

“My country itself is a clusterfuck, how am I supposed to deal with the mainland,” Stubal remarked about the Republic of Moon Island. The territory of Golden Coast was considered by many to be autonomous, if not *de facto* independent. Inside the territory, Governor Jordan Tang shared equal status with the President of Moon Island. Meanwhile, there was also a MI government-in-exile on the northern coast of Shops, which was known as the Moon Island Council Administration (or simply MIC Administration). The Administration, which was set up by Tom Saworton Jr. in the aftermath of the civil war, was deeply unpopular among Moon Islanders due to its xenophobic pro-Typhoonian policies and corruption scandals. As a result, the subregions of MI revolted against the MIC Administration and set up Dps04 as the first official President of the Republic of Moon Island. This was soon handed over to Penstubal. The MIC Administration, in the meantime, managed to hold on to the subregion of Moonover (including Moon Island City). Due to its control over Moon Island City, the MIC Administration was recognised by the UAN as a sovereign nation. So was the RoMI, which controlled the rest of the island. Nothing was done so far to regain control over Moonover, as Dps04 and Stubal believed in peaceful co-existence.

Meanwhile, all that was collectively known as the Shopper remnants were the city-state of Shops City (run by the lunatic President TCPS100), Southern Shops (run by Penquino), and the far larger rump states known as Western Shops (run by Bro, who faked his death during the civil war and emerged alive after), Eastern Shops (run by Brookelas), Freezestonia (run by Snowstormer) and Chill Island (run by Chill57181). While the last two countries didn’t wish to unify Shops Island, the rest of the remnants did. All of them were member states of the Shops Union, which was an intergovernmental organisation for all former Shopper territories. In reality, it was all but dead as only ex-Shopper territories not on the mainland had positive relations with each other. Said countries were Farleya, Moon Island, the Frosian Islands, Freezestonia, Chill Island and New Delphis. Nexon and Notron declined to join.

Despite the weird relations with each other, there was an annual “Rulers’ Conference” held by TCPS/Catali in Shops City for all “Rulers of Shopper territories under their provisional control”. In reality, it always turned into shouting matches as Shops City (which Catali proclaimed to be the Republic of Shops, or RoS) would attempt to assert its dominance over the mainland in vain. Despite that, everyone would go every year. This was why Penstubal landed in Shops City.

“I wonder why we attend this conference even if the outcome is clear,” he said to himself before he stepped out of the jet and entered a limousine. It then took him to a five-star hotel where the rest of the delegates were staying. Jordan Tang’s plane landed soon after. He wondered the same thing as Stubal did and went to the same hotel as he did.

Philippe Tomas was wearing a smoking jacket onboard his private jet. He was having a meal with his mistress. As he looked at her carving up the meatloaf and smearing the piece with some sauce, he smiled.

“What’s so funny, darling?”, the mistress questioned in curiosity.

“The fact that you called me ‘darling’ just now even though you fucked my bodyguard yesterday.”

“I-I am-“

“Shut up. I’ve already carved him up and served him to you. Your dad’s in there too.”

“Y-“

Philippe pointed a gun at her. “Look, I want you to take that parachute and jump out into the ocean,” he said as he gestured to the parachute on the seat. She did as she was told. She jumped out of the plane at its cargo bay. The Delphian President looked at her as she managed to open the parachute. The sharp-eyed penguin managed to see a look of relief on her face as she’d thought that the President would give her a rigged parachute that won’t work.

The President took out his smartphone and then typed something into it. When he looked out of the window again, there was a ball of flame.

“Fucking cheater.”

Damian muttered under his breath as he furiously walked to the roulette section of Argent Resorts. Wielding a revolver on his flipper, he was intoxicated due to the amount of cocaine that he had ingested earlier. He was having an orgy with some high-class escorts when an unlucky henchman interrupted the casino boss to inform him about a potential cheater. After splattering the man’s brains on the walls in a fit of cocaine-fuelled rage, he dressed himself up and started his journey to kill the scumbag bold enough to cheat the House.

His eyes were bloodshot red. When he saw the supposed cheater, who was playing along with other penguins, he ran towards him and smashed his head to the table. Damian then pointed his head at his head.

“SO YOU LIKE TO CHEAT IN ROULETTE HUH?!”, he screamed as he waved the gun at the poor penguin.

“N-no sir...”. The man’s reply was answered by a nasty pistol whip.

“LET’S PLAY RUSCAN ROULETTE. I’M GONNA POINT THIS AT YOU AND FIRE EVERY CHAMBER. IF YOU MANAGE TO SURVIVE 5 CHAMBERS, I’LL LET YOU GO.”

Giving the cylinder a spin before starting the game, he smiled in glee. He pulled the trigger, which luckily resulted in nothing happening.

Just as the cheater was beginning to pray, he felt as if something punched his face in multiple succession. Hard. Little did he know that his brains were all over the roulette table. It turned out that the revolver was on automatic fire, which resulted in the poor penguin being shot 5 times.

“MEN, TURN HIM INTO SALAMI!”, he yelled, to the bewilderment of the guests who had just frequented the resort’s buffet dinner. The buffet’s charcuterie and cheese section served smoked salami today.

## Chapter 4: Fallout

The arrival of the guests at Shops City’s Ritz Carlton Hotel marked the start of the Rulers’ Conference. The term, coined by TCPS, referred to the fact that he merely considered the respective leaders of the Shopper remnants to be in charge of the remnants’ governance, rather than being the leaders of sovereign countries. In turn, many of the rulers did not recognise each other to be leaders of sovereign countries either.

The Delphian President, Philippe Tomas, was a rather impressive figure in public. Donning a grey three-piece suit, a pair of half-framed semi-rimless glasses and a nice Snoss wristwatch, he looked like a well-dressed gentleman rather than the head of a criminal organisation. He passed along copies of the free-trade agreement to the leaders. The agreement, if signed by the members, would result in free trade among all of the member states. This would benefit New Delphis and increase the country’s exports.

“Gentlemen, this agreement will be a game changer for us. Not only will our economy flourish, but our countries can also be brought closer to each other via further economic integration.”

“I object,” TCPS said.

“Huh, why so?”

“You wrote that EVERYONE to leaders. MISTAKE! ME President, all YOU RULERS only!”

Many of the delegates face-palmed themselves when they heard that. “It is true. Each of us here is recognised by the UAN!”, Stubal said.

“Look who’s talking. Oh wait, the imposter!”, the leader of the MIC Administration exclaimed. The delegates stared at Tom Saworton in silence, as *he* was regarded by most to be the imposter.

“FUCK YOU!”, Jordan Tang yelled at him. The profanity uttered from his beak took everyone by surprise, especially since many thought of him as a conservative politician. “Why don’t you look at yourself in the mirror and realise that **you** are imposter, you delusional fuckface? If you don’t have one, then take a piss and look at your pathetic excuse of a face!”

“EVERYONE! MAKE TO ORDER! PRESIDENT ASKS YOU TO KINDLY SHUT IN!”, TCPS banged the conference table.

The Delphian President sighed. He took out a pistol from his jacket’s pocket and shot Catali straight on the forehead. “Fucktard, I’ve got better things to do than to win this futile argument,” Philippe sighed before he left the room for his home country. He had grander plans for his neighbouring state than this gathering of leaders who were clearly below his level.

“So those are the fuckers responsible for Regius’s death after all,” Slender thought in his mind for the next few days after the auction. It was completely unexpected to see the Delphian President going to the Rulers’ Conference instead of the auction. Since Philippe was considered by many to be the only figure who might potentially outbid him, the Nexonan Emperor managed to reclaim his platinum harp fairly easily at a price of 20 million CPC. It was when the three Moon Islander oligarchs walked on the stage that he recognised them.

For that reason, he decided to order their assassinations immediately. One of his agents reported that he would set a car bomb for Andrew Choi as he would be going to Sydden the week after the auction. The Nexonan Emperor quickly approved the attack. He had better plans in mind now.

After a few years of planning, Slender decided to invade the former Shopper Dominion of Notron. In anticipation of this invasion, the Nexonan Empire manufactured an armada of warships and trained its soldiers at space warfare. As the Nexonans didn’t have enough soldiers, they decided to create a gaseous form of neurotoxin similar to that used by the Kingdom of Verpomia to control its citizens. The gas would be released en masse around the planet in order to ensure an easy takeover.

When it was time for the invasion to happen, however, the gas only worked on approximately 45% of the population. The others fought back hard against the Nexonan invaders, who used rather barbaric methods. Biochemical weapons were deployed at an alarming rate, murdering hundreds of millions of Notroneans. Conventional bombs were dropp en masse, levelling entire cities. The frequent usage of explosives even altered the geographic landscape in some areas. Meanwhile, the Nexonan infantry itself was also ruthless in its tactics. The Imperial Nexonan Armies kept no POWs, as any hostile individual caught would be decapitated.

The ensuing occupation was even more brutal. General Omar Pereira, who was one of the main Nexonan military commanders leading the invasion, committed some of the worst war crimes in the occupation. Having occupied the City of Peace, he decided to turn it into a City of Death. The inhabitants were divided into groups of tens, in which nine out of ten Notroneans were executed via gassing or guillotine. Their remains were subsequently harvested for flesh and offals. For every meal, the survivors were forced-fed the victims’ flesh and offals. The most common of these cannibalistic meals was to cook their minced flesh into a stew. They would have to bear the burden of having ate at least one of their friends or relatives.

The survivors would then be implanted with an ID chip, which could be remotely detonated in order to execute them. Every day, Nexonan troops would randomly detonate a Notronean’s ID chip or behead them for the sake of fun. Their heads were often used as soccer balls, and some Notroneans (especially their relatives) would be forced to play a game of football. The winning team would then be forced to execute the losers by beating them to death. If they refused to do so, they themselves would be executed by the Nexonans. The occupiers would also throw landmines onto a grass field and force Notroneans to run across it, often to their own demise.

Rape was utilised to torture Notroneans, but not in a way that anyone has ever seen in history. “Rape machines” were constructed, which would then penetrate the orifices of the victim with metal rods of varying sizes and lengths. The frequency at which they penetrate the victims could also be adjusted, which could kill them if it was too high. These machines were also installed with needles that could inject STDs into the victims. Both males and females were subject to this most horrible of punishment.

In an effort to commit ethnic genocide, all male survivors of those who rebelled were also forced to undergo physical castration. Female survivors would be impregnated by Nexonan soldiers, in an attempt to “cleanse their bloodlines with something purer”. Female loyalists who accepted the Nexonans’ rule at first would also be impregnated by samples of the Nexonan Emperor’s semen, but Slender himself did not directly have sex with any Notronean woman. Since their brains were too wired by neurotoxins, nobody on the planet objected to such a degrading treatment. It was estimated at at least 1 million of all new chicks hatched in the subsequent year belonged to the Emperor.

Notroneans were then enlisted as slaves of the Emperor, whose corporations took over the planet’s economy. Their work ranged from menial labour to white-collar jobs, although they were considered to be personal possessions of Slender. In an effort to enrich the Nexonan mainland, the Nexonans began to strip the planet of its minerals. An estimated 1.2 billion Notroneans perished as a consequence of Slender’s lust for blood.

SlenderXP took yet another mouthful of whiskey as he tried to kill the hurricane of emotions flooding him for the past few weeks. He had yet to overcome the fact that his wife Queenie was brutally murdered in a car bombing at Sydden. Someone ordered for notorious Moon Islander oligarch Andrew Choi to be assassinated in the form of a car bombing, which also resulted in some innocent bystanders dying. As fragments of explosives originating from Nexon were found, SlenderXP deduced that the Nexonan government, and thus Emperor Slender, was responsible. He wanted to kill the Emperor.

SlenderXP waddled into his friend Harvey Bing’s office. Harvey happened to be the managing partner of their law firm, Harvey Oliveira Shepherd. Despite listening to blues music on his headphones and closing his eyes, Bing managed to sense someone coming into his office. “How can I help you?”, he said while putting his legs up on his desk.

“I’ve decided to sacrifice my career for something that you won’t understand, Harvey,” SlenderXP announced after he removed his friend’s headphones.

“Stupid move, mate. You are going to give up 5 million CPC per annum and possibly your life to enact revenge?”

“I have to. I’ve already made my decision two days ago and sent my chicks to live with Queenie’s parents, along with a sizeable fortune that would fund their upbringing until adulthood.”

“Your chicks have already lost their mother. Do you want them to lose their father as well?”

SlenderXP hesitated for a moment. He walked towards the window that prominently showed Sydden’s skyline and lit up a cigarette, knowing that his friend wouldn’t mind him taking a puff. “I’m barely there for them anyway. It won’t make a difference.”

“So just resign and then devote all of your energy to taking care of them.”

“It’s either my career or avenging Queenie. Besides, I’ve always hated chicks, no offence. Only had them because Queenie insisted,” he said coldly.

Bing laughed along. “Yeah, right? That’s why I don’t get married. Having kids is a burden.”

“Not financially. You can still afford to maintain your huge ass Pier Piper mansion even if you have 5 kids and mistresses.”

“Are you implying that I don’t?”, Harvey joked. “Mistress support is expensive yo.”

“When you pay them more than you do with our firm’s first year associate, of course it is,” SlenderXP laughed for the first time since Queenie’s murder.

“Want a drink?”, Bing asked as he took out a bottle of 25 year old Japalandese whiskey from his cabinet and poured one for himself.

“I’m good mate, just had a few glasses.”

After a while, the managing partner joined his friend in observing the skyline. “Are you sure you are going to do the job?”

“Yes, mate. I’m not returning to the firm even if the job is successful.”

“So I take that you’ll be withdrawing equity?”

“Eh you can have it. Matthew Ross can also have some of my equity. I think he’ll be a damn good senior partner.”

“I’m waiting for you to say that to be honest. I personally think that he’s ready to make the leap from being a mere salaried partner and Shepherd agreed with me. I couldn’t ask for your opinion since you were on leave, but I forgot to ask you when you did return to the firm today.”

“Just go ahead and give him my equity. Let’s not trouble him with having to take a buy-in loan like your predecessor did with me.”

“Geez, let’s not remind me of him. That guy is an absolute cunt.”

“Oh right, I’m sorry. By the way, there’s a mosquito in your office.”

“There isn’t.”

“I swear there is. I got bitten just now-“. Be fore SlenderXP completed his sentence, he collapsed to the floor. Bing looked at him nonchalantly and stomped out the cigarette with his shoes.

“That’s not a mosquito bite. That’s me pricking you with a poisonous needle,” Bing remarked before he called a potential client.

“Did he agree to back down?”

“Nope, he’s dead now.”

“Excellent. I’ll be exclusively hiring your firm to help my holdings in foreign mergers and acquisitions from now on.”

“Wonderful.”

“My fund’s manager told me that he will be acquiring several corporate assets in Zhou, Polaris, Freezeland, Moon Island and Chavezuela. You’ll be advising on Zhou, Moon Island and Chavezuela, along with Cooper & Co, on the transactions, which will be worth a total of 83 billion CPC if I’m not mistaken.”

“Alright.”