Season 2 chapter 2
The 100 Billion Intel
Mantouse waved his hand, dismissing their bickering about the 20,000 credit difference. "Fascinating. Two immortals created for the price of a luxury dinner. But that brings us to the present."
He stepped closer, his velvet shoes sinking slightly into the mud.
"You said the Royal Family failed to mass produce it. But they never throw anything away. Where is the rest?"
"We know exactly where it is," Malesh said, tapping his temple. "Not because we found a map in some archive, but because we lived there. The facility where they injected us... it's burned into my memory. The corridors, the ventilation, the security grid."
"Location?" Mantouse asked.
"It is in KDC," Kniya replied. "The Central Region. interior state. It is a bunker disguised as a geological survey station."
"KDC," Mantouse mused. "Central. Hard to access, easy to hide. And the inventory?"
"Approximately 20 bottles," Kniya confirmed. "The last of the Limitless. After that, the formula is gone forever. The scientists who made it are dead."
Mantouse went silent. He looked at the sky, then at the two young men. He wasn't a public billionaire; he didn't have a face on currency or a name in the newspapers. He was a shadow—a ghost with more wealth than the government that didn't even know he existed.
He did a mental calculation that would have burned out a lesser man's brain.
"I want them," Mantouse stated.
"We figured," Kniya said. "But we aren't going back in there. We are 'Architects' now, remember? We don't do the heavy lifting for this one. It's too personal."
"I don't need you to retrieve them," Mantouse said calmly. "I have my own... specialists for retrieval. Men who don't ask questions. What I need is the Map. I need the security codes. I need the layout of their KDC facility so my team doesn't walk into a fucking.. meat grinder."
"You want the keys to the kingdom," Malesh noted.
"I am prepared to offer you 100 Billion Credits," Mantouse said.
Malesh choked on air. Kniya stopped breathing for a second.
"100... Billion?" Malesh squeaked. "With a 'B'?"
"Yes," Mantouse nodded. "100 Billion for the intel. The map, the codes, the location. I take possession of the bottles, you take the cash."
Kniya stared at Mantouse. The shock faded, replaced by the sharp, calculating look of a high-stakes gambler.
"No," Kniya said.
Malesh looked at Kniya like he was insane. "Kniya, say yes. It's 100 billion."
"No," Kniya repeated, stepping forward. "We don't do a flat acquisition. That implies we are just informants. We are partners, Mantouse."
"I am listening," Mantouse said, intrigued.
"If we sell you the intel for 20 bottles at 100 Billion, that puts the valuation at roughly 5 Billion per bottle," Kniya calculated. "That's fair. But it's transactional."
Kniya held up his hand.
"Here is the counter-offer. We give you the intel to secure 25% of the stock—5 bottles—for free."
"Free?" Mantouse narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Goodwill," Kniya smiled. "To cement our partnership. You get 5 bottles to test, to use, to break... on the house. A gift from the 'prototypes'."
"And the rest?"
"The remaining 75%—15 bottles—you buy for the 100 Billion Credits."
Malesh did the math in his head instantly. 100 Billion divided by 15 bottles = 6.66 Billion per bottle.
Malesh's eyes widened. Kniya wasn't lowering the price; he was raising the per-unit value while making it look like a gift.
"You want me to pay the same total amount for fewer bottles?" Mantouse asked, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You are effectively charging me 133 Billion for the lot, but giving me a discount back down to 100."
"Exactly," Kniya nodded. "You stay within your 100 Billion budget. We get a higher valuation per unit. And you get 5 'free' samples to tell your private investors about. Everyone wins."
Mantouse stared at Kniya for a long moment. Then, he laughed—a genuine, loud laugh that startled a crow nearby.
"You are a terrifying negotiator, Mr. Anderson," Mantouse extended his hand. "Deal. 100 Billion. 15 paid, 5 free. Draw me the map."
The Side Effect and The Chit
The apartment looked like a tornado had hit a library. Malesh was lying upside down on the sofa, throwing a rubber ball at a stack of empty cup-noodle containers. Kniya was trying to balance a spoon on his nose while leaning back in a broken chair.
"So," Malesh said, throwing the ball. Thwack. It knocked over a noodle cup. "Are we actually doing this? Handing the keys to the kingdom to a guy who dresses like a vampire?"
"Why not?" Kniya mumbled, the spoon falling off his nose. "It's 100 Billion, bro. Do you know how many rubber balls you can buy with that? At least twelve."
"I'm serious," Malesh laughed, rolling off the sofa. "We are giving him the map to your grandfather's secret stash. That's biological immortality. If Mantouse decides to use it to, I don't know, create an army of unkillable super-soldiers or just act like a jerk forever, that's on us."
"Bro, please," Kniya scoffed, picking up the spoon. "You act like my family is using it for charity. My grandfather literally injected us with glowing sludge just to see if we'd explode. If Mantouse wants to steal their stash, I say let him. It's not betrayal; it's just... aggressive inheritance."
"True," Malesh grinned. "Your grandpa is a menace. Screwing him over is basically a public service."
"Exactly," Kniya leaned back, putting his feet on the table. "Besides, we are forgetting the best part. The side effect."
Malesh froze. A wicked, knowing smile spread across his face.
"Oh right," Malesh chuckled. "The 'Glitch'."
"Grandpa told us, remember?" Kniya laughed, tapping his temple. "If you take the Limitless badly—like, if you try to modify the dosage, or mix it with other agents to boost the power, or just use it with 'impure intent' whatever the hell that means biologically—it doesn't make you immortal."
"It turns you into a biological puddle of agony," Malesh finished, wiping a tear from his eye. "Eternal life, but you feel every single second of it like you're on fire. It's the ultimate trap card."
"So," Kniya shrugged. "If Mantouse uses it the right way—you know, just stays young and chills—he's fine. But if he tries to use it in the wrong way... well, he's going to have a very bad millennium."
"Should we tell him?" Malesh asked, picking up a pen. "I mean, he is paying us a lot."
"Nah," Kniya waved his hand. "That ruins the surprise. And it's too much explanation. He's a smart guy; he'll figure it out."
"We should give him a hint though," Malesh argued. "Basic consumer safety regulations. We don't want a lawsuit from an immortal lava-monster."
"Fine," Kniya grabbed a small, crumpled piece of paper—a 'chit'—from the floor. He scribbled something on it with a dull pencil.
He held it up.
NOTE: DON'T USE IT IN THE WRONG WAY. OR ELSE... LUL.
"Perfect," Malesh laughed, looking at the scribbled note. "Legal liability covered. 'Or else... lul.' That holds up in court."
"Stick it in the map tube," Kniya ordered, tossing the chit to Malesh. "Now, draw the damn map. I'm hungry. Does 100 Billion credits buy us a dam to this dimension?"
"I think it buys the dam along with the reservoir !," Malesh said, uncapping the marker.
They laughed, treating the fate of humanity and the secret of immortality with the same seriousness as a prank call.
The Tax Man Returns
Two Days Later, Location: Behind the Seistain University Library.
Malesh and Kniya stood in the shadow of the brick building. A familiar black sedan rolled up. The window didn't roll down; the door opened, and the same man from six years ago stepped out.
Black suit. Dark sunglasses (even though it was raining lightly). Posture like a steel beam.
Malesh groaned audibly.
"Bro," Malesh whispered to Kniya. "It's him again. The Tax Officer."
The agent walked up to them, extending a gloved hand. He didn't say hello. He just waited for the package.
"You are serious this time again," Kniya noted, looking the man up and down with genuine concern. "Does your face hurt? From frowning? I think I should tell Mantouse to ask his employees to be casual. To be lenient. You know, wear a Hawaiian shirt once in a while. Loosen the tie. It cuts off circulation to the joy centers of the brain."
The agent's jaw tightened. A vein popped in his forehead.
"The package," the agent growled, his voice like gravel.
"See?" Malesh pointed. "He is angry again. So inefficient. Stress kills, my friend."
"We should just provide him what he wants, the fucking shit," Malesh sighed, pulling a sealed tube from his bag.
Inside was the hand-drawn map of their KDC facility, the security codes for the ventilation system, and the exact location of the chemical storage.
Malesh slapped the tube into the agent's hand. "Here. The keys to the kingdom. Try not to smile on the way back, you might crack a lip."
The agent snatched the tube, glared at them one last time, and got back in the car without a word.
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