Season 3 chapter 18
The Pocket Petrol
The two Managing Directors took the private elevator all the way down into the subterranean depths of the Kavilson Steel headquarters. The massive, heavily guarded corporate garage was filled with dozens of armored SUVs, stealth motorcycles, and incredibly expensive hyper-cars.
Kniya proudly walked past all the sensible, bulletproof corporate vehicles and stopped in front of a massive, heavily modified, absurdly oversized monster truck of a car. It had R-12 engines, military-grade tires, and absolutely terrible fuel efficiency.
"Okay," Kniya declared happily. "This is my car. We are going on this."
Malesh stared at the ridiculous vehicle, letting out a heavy sigh. "So yeah. Let's go."
Kniya opened the driver's side door, checked the digital dashboard, and immediately frowned.
"Ah, fuck," Kniya groaned. "No, we can't go. Because this massive thing has zero fuel. Malesh, can you give me some fuel? Because, you know, you are literally the Managing Director of an international fuel company. You must have access to gas."
"Okay," Malesh replied with absolute, robotic seriousness. "I have some fuel in my pocket."
Kniya stopped. He slowly turned around, staring at Malesh in pure disbelief.
Malesh calmly reached into the tailored inside pocket of his expensive designer suit jacket. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled out a perfectly sealed, clear one-liter plastic bottle filled with premium unleaded petrol.
"Here is exactly one liter of petrol," Malesh offered flatly.
"Oh, you fucking idiot!" Kniya shrieked, completely losing his mind. "Why do you have a loose liter of highly flammable liquid inside your thousand-credit suit jacket?! And do you honestly think that this car—this massive, twelve-cylinder monster—would run on one single liter of fucking petrol?!"
"Yeah, I think so," Malesh replied confidently. "It is high-octane."
"Do not talk idiotic to me!" Kniya yelled. "That is not how combustion engines work!"
Completely ignoring Kniya's screaming, Malesh casually walked over to the side of the monster car, unscrewed the gas cap, popped the seal on his pocket-bottle, and calmly poured the single liter of petrol into the massive, hundred-gallon fuel tank.
"There," Malesh said, screwing the cap back on.
"Don't you have more fuel?!" Kniya yelled, gesturing wildly at the massive car. "Because we need significantly more fucking energy, you idiot, to basically just get out of this fucking garage! It's going to stall on the ramp!"
"Yeah, I knew that for a very long period of time, Kniya," Malesh replied smoothly, completely unbothered by the physics of the situation. He pointed a finger deeper into the massive underground parking structure. "I have secretly built a massive, fully operational petrol pump inside the office garage. And we can easily fill up from there. We just need to drive the car till there."
Kniya stared at the direction Malesh was pointing. Sure enough, tucked away in the corner of the parking garage, was a fully branded, brightly lit Malesh Energy commercial gas station. Complete with digital price boards.
"Okay..." Kniya muttered, his brain struggling to process the sheer audacity of his business partner. "This car has very low fuel. With your stupid pocket bottle, it can only run approximately about 0.5 kilometers, or 500 meters. So we can make it. But let me ask you one major question."
Kniya pointed directly at the gas station.
"Why the fuck is there a commercial petrol pump inside my headquarters?!" Kniya screamed, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. "Do you think this is a corporate company or a national fucking highway?! And why is there a price board?! Are you charging us?!"
"It was constructed for fulfilling the logistical demands of the company's employees," Malesh stated defensively, crossing his arms. "And it is really useful for them."
"What the fuck?!" Kniya yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "You literally built a retail petrol pump inside a private building! It's really funny, but it is a massive fire hazard!"
"It is highly regulated," Malesh argued flatly, defending his capitalist vision. "And I will state that it is really useful. Now our employees are completely able to fill their tanks with this petrol pump before they drive home. And naturally, my company is earning some massive retail money from it by charging them premium prices. So it is a great, highly efficient corporate investment too. Now get in the car so we can buy the fart articles."
The Open-Air Refuel
Kniya fired up the massive, R-12 armored luxury sedan. The heavy engine roared so loudly it shook the concrete pillars of the underground garage. He slammed his foot on the gas, and the oversized car lurched forward, slowly climbing the steep ramp toward the surface.
To ensure they didn't completely detonate the corporate headquarters, Malesh had wisely positioned the commercial petrol pump just outside the main garage doors, completely out in the open air away from the main building.
Kniya parked the heavy sedan next to the brightly lit Malesh Energy pump. He hopped out, grabbed the heavy nozzle, and spent the next ten minutes pumping an ungodly amount of premium unleaded fuel into the massive tank. When it was finally full, Kniya marched up to the automated payment terminal and swiped his black corporate card, heavily annoyed that he was essentially paying his own business partner for gas.
"Okay, the beast is fed," Kniya announced, climbing back into the driver's seat. "Let's get out of here."
They hit the streets of Seistain. For the first hour, the drive was exactly what they needed. The loud, aggressive R-12 engine cleared Kniya's mind, and Malesh sat quietly in the passenger seat, watching the towering skyscrapers of the capital city blur past the tinted windows.
Eventually, Kniya took a series of random turns, driving away from the bustling commercial districts and crossing into a completely empty, highly abandoned sector of the city. There were no towering office buildings here, no luxury apartments, and absolutely zero traffic. It was just a long, cracked asphalt road lined with forgotten warehouses and overgrown weeds.
"Where exactly are we?" Malesh asked, looking around the desolate landscape.
"I don't know," Kniya admitted, squinting through the windshield. "It's an unknown region. Probably some zone the government forgot to tax. But look over there!"
Kniya pointed a finger toward a tiny, incredibly run-down building sitting entirely alone on the side of the empty street. A flickering neon sign buzzed above the door, reading: BOOKS.
The Abandoned Bookstore
Kniya aggressively slammed the brakes, drifting the heavy sedan onto the gravel shoulder and kicking up a massive cloud of dust.
"Here is a bookstore!" Kniya cheered, putting the car in park. "I think so we should basically check for the books we need here!"
Malesh stared out the window at the dilapidated, sketchy-looking shack. The roof was sagging, the windows were covered in grime, and the wooden door looked like it was going to fall off its hinges.
"I don't think so," Malesh rejected bluntly, crossing his arms. "They would not have the books we want. It is looking like such a cheap, pathetic bookstore. I don't think they would even have basic literacy in there, let alone premium literature."
"Malesh, you are always strictly criticizing everything before you are even visiting it!" Kniya argued, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's just give it a chance. Come on!"
Grumbling under his breath, Malesh stepped out of the luxury sedan. They walked up to the creaky wooden door and pushed it open. A tiny bell jingled above them.
The inside of the shop smelled like old paper and dust. Massive, towering shelves were crammed with thousands of random books. Sitting behind a small wooden counter was an older, very tired-looking man with a thick beard and thick glasses.
Malesh leaned close to Kniya and whispered, but he didn't lower his voice nearly enough.
"Do you honestly think this poor bastard working here would have anything of value in his fucking tiny shop?" Malesh complained loudly.
The shopkeeper immediately looked up from his newspaper, his eyes narrowing into furious slits.
"Who the fuck are you calling a bastard?!" the shopkeeper yelled, slamming his hand on the counter. "Just get the fuck out of my shop right now if you are going to say that, you entitled corporate idiots!"
Kniya panicked, immediately reaching out and violently pinching the back of Malesh's arm to shut him up.
"Ow! What the fuck, Kniya?!" Malesh hissed, rubbing his arm. The shopkeeper was literally a pain in the ass.
"I am so sorry for the inconvenience my friend just caused!" Kniya apologized rapidly, putting on his best fake-friendly smile. "He is just an absolute idiot. He has no social skills. Please excuse him. We actually came here because we want to buy some specific comic books and novels."
The Literary Argument
The shopkeeper glared at them for a few seconds, still highly suspicious, but he slowly sat back down on his stool.
"There are a ton of novels in this shop," the owner grumbled, adjusting his glasses. "Which one do you want? Be specific."
Kniya stepped up to the counter, his eyes shining with pure nerd excitement.
"Okay, I am actively looking for a very specific political fantasy series," Kniya declared proudly. "I need That Time the Demon Lord Became President of the Country by Winning the Elections Democratically. And I need absolutely all the editions of this book."
Malesh let out a slow, exhausted sigh. "That is the stupidest title I have ever heard in my entire life."
The shopkeeper didn't even blink. He simply turned around, ducked under the counter, and pulled out three massive, heavily bundled stacks of perfectly wrapped light novels. He slammed them onto the counter.
"Volumes one through forty," the shopkeeper stated blankly. "Complete set."
Kniya's jaw completely dropped. He was absolutely astonished. This tiny, forgotten shack in the middle of nowhere somehow contained the exact, highly obscure comic series he had been searching for.
"Holy shit," Kniya whispered in awe.
Malesh, completely refusing to be outdone by a rundown bookstore, stepped up to the counter next to Kniya.
"I also want a novel," Malesh demanded, his voice entirely deadpan. "And it is about a highly specialized topic that you definitely won't have in your cheap shop. I require the instructional manual titled: Five Best Ways to Fart. I specifically need the Rare Edition 6969."
Kniya slowly turned his head, staring at Malesh with absolute, unfiltered disgust.
"Bro, what the actual fuck?" Kniya groaned, visibly cringing. "You are literally buying a fart novel?! I literally hate you so much. You are a trillionaire Managing Director, and you are buying ancient scrolls about flatulence!"
"Did I ever say that to you, you fucking Demon Lord lover?!" Malesh shot back instantly, turning to face Kniya. "Do not judge my highly specialized biological reading material! It is far superior to your delusional fictional comic about a Demon Lord winning a democratic election!"
"It is literature!" Kniya yelled, pointing at the bundles on the counter. "It explores the sociopolitical dynamics of the underworld! It has deep character development!"
"The premise is inherently flawed!" Malesh argued loudly, using his cold logic to tear apart the comic. "Demons do not participate in electoral colleges! They operate under a strict authoritarian monarchy! Your novel makes absolutely zero geopolitical sense!"
"And your novel is about pushing methane out of your ass!" Kniya shrieked, throwing his hands in the air. "It explores the delusions of a complete degenerate! Okay, buy whatever you want! I am not interrupting in this anymore! You are a fucking fart lover!"
"I am an academic!" Malesh insisted angrily.
While the two Managing Directors were brutally arguing with each other in the middle of the store, the shopkeeper silently walked to the very back of the room. He reached behind a dusty shelf, pulled out a thick, leather-bound, incredibly ancient-looking book, and walked back to the front.
He slammed the massive book onto the counter right next to Kniya's bundle. Stamped in fading gold foil on the cover were the words: Five Best Ways to Fart - Rare Edition 6969.
Malesh stopped arguing immediately. His eyes widened in absolute shock. The book actually existed, and this random guy had it.