[The Abyssal Academy - The Grand Courtyard]
The muddy courtyard had been completely cleared of rubble by the indebted vampire students. Two thousand aspiring villains stood in perfectly straight, terrified rows. At the front of the assembly, the Class-A Chimera sat obediently in its high-vis yellow vest.
Victor Thorne stood on the elevated stone dais. The freezing morning wind whipped his midnight-blue suit, but his Tycoon's Aura pressed down on the crowd, suffocating any thoughts of rebellion.
"Students of the Abyssal Academy," Victor's voice echoed off the gothic walls. "For centuries, you have been taught inefficient, unprofitable methods of villainy. You study forbidden curses. You practice assassination. And as a result, the Heroes of Light constantly hunt you down, kill you, and loot your corpses."
A murmur of uneasy agreement rippled through the crowd of Orcs, Necromancers, and Dark Elves.
"That stops today," Victor announced, raising the golden-glowing Tycoon's Ledger. "Effective immediately, the 'Dark Arts' department is liquidated. Welcome to 'Applied Economics and Asset Extraction 101'."
Victor gestured to Seraphina, who stepped forward with her silver clipboard.
"In twenty-eight days, a demographic of five thousand Holy Paladins will enter our campus," Seraphina announced coldly. "Under the Principal's new directive, you are strictly forbidden from executing them."
"What?!" a towering Orc roared from the front row. "They're Crusaders! If we don't kill them, they'll slaughter us!"
Victor didn't raise his voice, but his cold glare forced the Orc to shrink back.
"A dead Paladin drops his sword once," Victor explained slowly, as if speaking to toddlers. "A living Paladin can be trapped, fined, forced to buy healing potions at a 500% markup, and released to gather more gold for us to extract next year. We are establishing a recurring revenue model."
Victor pointed his gold-nibbed pen at the massive, empty entrance hall of the castle.
"You will transform the first three floors of this academy into a labyrinth," Victor commanded. "But you will not build lethal spike pits. You will build Toll Booths. You will design magical traps that do not kill, but instead strip them of their armor and teleport their gold directly into our vaults."
Victor looked at the crowd of indebted students, knowing exactly how to motivate them.
"For every piece of blessed steel or holy potion you successfully extract from a Crusader," Victor smiled a ruthless, capitalist smile, "you will receive a ten percent commission, applied directly to the principal of your micro-loans."
The atmosphere in the courtyard shifted instantly.
The fear and starvation vanished. The eyes of two thousand hardened villains suddenly glowed with intense, rabid greed. The Orcs began whispering about setting up fake toll bridges. The Vampires started planning high-interest blood-bank traps.
"Elara," Victor looked at his Paladin intern, whose face was pale with horror. "You know their standard operating procedures. You will act as the Lead Consultant for trap placement. If you refuse, I double your debt."
"You are turning my holy brethren into livestock..." Elara whispered, her soul breaking a little more.
"I am turning them into a revenue stream," Victor corrected, checking his gold Rolex. "Class dismissed. Get to work."