Morning at Aegis Base didn't start with a rooster's crow. It started with the weeping of a grown man.
"Look at it! Just look at it!" Gara fell to his knees beside the black Cadillac, stroking the bullet hole in the trunk like it was a wound on his own child. "It ruined the Feng Shui! It ruined the aerodynamics! Do you know how hard it is to find OEM parts for this model?"
Niko, the perpetrator, was sitting on a crate nearby, nursing an ice pack against his jaw. He shrugged, his voice muffled by the pain. "Insurance covers my exhaust pipe!. Don't be cheap."
"Insurance covers my ass!" Gara screamed, tears welling up. "I didn't buy comprehensive coverage! I only have mandatory liability insurance!"
I stepped out of the makeshift office, holding a cup of weak black coffee. I looked at the bullet hole, then at Gara, who was trying to patch it with black duct tape.
"Stop crying, Gara," I said, my voice cold. "That is not damage. That is Asset Depreciation due to occupational hazards. Take it to the cheapest body shop you know. The bill will be deducted—20%—from Niko's first paycheck."
Niko’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp jolt of pain shot through his skull, forcing him to groan and clutch his face instead.
"Fine," Niko mumbled. "But you promised to fix this damn tooth. It's killing me faster than Tommy ever could."
"Get ready," I checked my watch. "We leave in fifteen minutes. We need to perform some asset maintenance."
Scene 2: Refueling Heavy Machinery
In the other corner of the warehouse, Benny was engaged in a refueling protocol. And when I say "refueling," I mean an industrial process.
Five boxes of the cheapest pizza available (dough and tomato sauce, zero toppings) lay open on the table. Benny didn't eat them; he processed them. He rolled an entire pizza into a giant cylinder like a burrito and shoved it into his mouth. Chew twice. Swallow. Glup.
Next to the pizzas were two cartons of raw eggs. Benny cracked them directly into a mug, shells and all sometimes, and downed them in one go.
Yesterday, Benny had activated his Tier S strength to throw that crowbar. By my calculations, he had burned through about 6,000 calories in a single burst of kinetic energy. He wasn't gluttonous; he was obeying the laws of thermodynamics.
"Full?" I asked.
Benny looked up, tomato sauce smeared across his face. He nodded slowly.
I stepped closer, looking at the giant. Usually, I viewed my employees as lines of code or expense items. But Benny... Benny was a high-performance machine that required calibration.
"Benny," I said, my voice cutting through the chewing sounds. "Good work yesterday. You broke the structure, not the asset. And you didn't kill the recruit. That was... efficient."
Benny froze. His slow brain processed the words. A rare, goofy grin spread across his granite face, cracking the intimidating mask he usually wore.
"Boss... happy?" Benny rumbled, his eyes gleaming like a puppy being praised.
"The Internal Audit is satisfied with your performance. Carry on." I confirmed with a nod. "Sleep now."
"Good," Benny sighed contentedly.
He fell backward onto the old sofa. THUD. Five seconds later, his snoring started up like a diesel truck engine idling. He slept with a smile.
Scene 3: Noise Pollution & The Princess
"Oh my God, how am I supposed to survive in this zoo?!"
Daniel emerged from his personal hygiene zone. He was wearing sunglasses indoors. In his hand was a bottle of facial mist.
"Boss!" Daniel pointed a trembling finger at the snoring behemoth. "This noise pollution exceeds OSHA standards! I couldn't sleep last night because of the gunfire, and now I'm being tortured by this! Look at my dark circles! My skin is oxidizing from the stress! My cortisol levels are spiking!"
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
"You are an intern, Daniel," I ignored him, checking my wallet. "Interns don't sleep. Interns only recharge."
"I need a Spa day!" Daniel whined. "I need a cucumber mask and a quiet room!"
"You're going on a field trip," I tossed him the keys to Gara’s spare motorcycle. "You're coming with me and Niko."
Daniel grimaced, looking at the greasy bike with pure disgust. "Why do I have to go? I'm the Tank! I'm the Face of this organization! I am not a nurse for that tooth-decayed assassin!"
"Because you are large," I explained simply. "Niko is a killer, but he is afraid of dentists. If he tries to run, I need someone strong enough to hold him down."
Daniel’s face went pale. "I... I'm afraid of blood, you know."
Scene 4: The Platinum Dental Plan
The "Dr. Smile" dental clinic was tucked away in a dark alley in the South Bronx. The neon sign outside was flickering, half the letters burnt out, reading only ""D... R... S... ILE" (Doctor S-ile).
I chose this establishment for two reasons: One, they didn't ask for ID. Two, their pricing was flexible.
We walked in. The smell of antiseptic was thick, mixed with the scent of mold.
The elderly dentist, wearing thick glasses, peered into Niko’s mouth and clicked his tongue. "Acute pulpitis. Fracture of the number 6 molar. Needs a root canal and a Zirconia crown."
He looked at me, squinting to appraise my suit. "Total is $3,000."
Niko let out a whimper, unsure if it was from the pain or the price.
I stepped forward, placing my briefcase on the counter. "Let’s Audit that quote, shall we, Doctor?"
I gestured around the room. "Your dental chair is a 1990 model, the leather is torn—high infection risk. You're using incandescent bulbs instead of clinical LEDs, driving up your utility costs. And most importantly," I looked at the diploma on the wall, "I’m fairly certain the Medical Board doesn't issue degrees on a Sunday."
Sweat began to bead on the dentist's forehead.
"$1,200," I said firmly. "Cash. No receipt. Right now."
The doctor swallowed hard. He looked at the stack of cash I pulled out, then nodded rapidly. "Fine. Get in the chair."
But the real problem started when the drill began to whine. Eeeeee-eeee.
Niko—the man who, only twenty-four hours ago, stood on a crane 20 meters in the air—suddenly shrank into a ball.
"Wait!" Niko screamed, trying to bolt from the chair. "I changed my mind! I'll just take painkillers! No drilling! No drilling!"
"Daniel!" I commanded. "Hold him down!"
"Why is it always me?!" Daniel shrieked.
But then, something shifted.
Daniel lunged forward. He was terrified, yes. He was squeezing his eyes shut, yes. But his body moved with a newfound, instinctual precision. He didn't just flail. He dropped his weight, driving his shoulder into Niko’s chest and locking Niko’s flailing arm against the headrest. It was a crude variation of the side control pin Benny had used on the thugs yesterday.
"Stay still, you coward!" Daniel yelled, his grip iron-tight despite his trembling voice. "Don't make me break your clavicle! I know how to do it now!"
Niko struggled, but the "Princess" was effectively neutralizing him. The expensive gym muscles were finally being converted into functional strength.
"Open your mouth!" The dentist shouted, seizing the opportunity.
The sound of the drill drowned out the protests. I stood leaning against the wall, checking my watch calmly.
Risk control cost: $0 (thanks to Daniel’s manual labor).
Scene 5: Daily Closing
Two hours later.
Niko walked out of the clinic, one cheek swollen like a chipmunk, but his mood had completely shifted. He was checking his new tooth in the motorcycle's rearview mirror.
"Pain's gone," Niko mumbled. "And this tooth... looks legit."
"It is Zirconia," I noted, buttoning my jacket. "It has a flexural strength of 1200 MPa. It is virtually indestructible. Consider it a long-term capital investment. A sniper distracted by nerve pain misses shots. Missed shots cost me ammo. I don't like wasting ammo."
Niko tapped the tooth, grinning. "So you care about my accuracy, huh?"
"I care about my ROI," I corrected. "Now get on the bike."
Back at the warehouse, Gara had just returned with the Cadillac. The bullet hole was patched and painted. It looked slightly off-color if you squinted, but the Resale Value had been preserved.
Benny was still sleeping, his snoring steady and rhythmic, like a machine in idle mode.
I sat down in the only intact office chair and opened the ledger.
DAILY FINANCIAL REPORT:
- Asset Repair (Cadillac): $250.
- Personnel Fuel (Pizza + Eggs for Benny): $45.
- Employee Benefits (Dental for Niko): $1,200.
- Mental Damages (Daniel): $0 (Not tax-deductible).
Total Overhead: $1,495. Revenue: $0.
We were operating at a loss today. But I looked around the room.
Gara was polishing the car. Daniel was applying something green to his face to "restore his glow." Benny was fully recharged. And Niko, pain-free, was stripping down his sniper rifle for maintenance.
Fixed Assets were 100% maintained. Operational efficiency was optimized.
I closed the ledger. A faint smile touched my lips.
"Rest up, gentlemen," I whispered. "Because tomorrow, Tommy is going to pay this entire bill—plus interest."
End of Chapter 11.
1200 MPa Zirconia crowns aren't just for chewing; they are a long-term capital investment. Distracted snipers cost ammo, and in this warehouse, we don't do waste.
The Board Meeting is in session:
Follow button. We’re moving from the 'Acquisition Phase' to the 'Hostile Takeover' very soon.
?? Unlock the Executive Vault
Full Executive Clearance is waiting for you. Read every available advance chapter (currently 30+) on Patreon and stay weeks ahead of the market.
Copyright ? 2026 by Gats VII. All rights reserved. This story is officially published only on Royal Road and Patreon. If you are reading this elsewhere, it has been stolen