Corporate Villainy: Trampling Protagonists as a Business Dad

After another intense session with Helena, Vincent rolled out of bed and headed to the shower. The hot water helped clear his mind as he thought about the day ahead. Once dressed, he joined the others for breakfast in the mansion's dining room.

Emily was already at the table, scrolling through her phone while picking at her eggs. Vincent remembered Olivia's comment from the previous night about Emily's newfound passion for recording videos and her ambitions to become an "influencer." The term had been nagging at him ever since.

Influencer.

Perhaps it was his comfortable position as a billionaire, or maybe his focus on the corporate war he'd been orchestrating, but Vincent realized he might have been blind to an emerging era of opportunities. This world had always fascinated him with its parallels to Earth—similar traditions, cultures, people, even names. But there was one crucial difference that changed everything.

Spiritual energy.

This mystical force hadn't always existed here. It emerged after the Great War, when democracy was starting to spread across nations. For three straight days, the skies turned golden with red streaks, and people swore they saw giant figures moving through the clouds. The whole thing left the world in chaos, though skeptics dismissed it when no aliens showed up.

But then spiritual energy became real. Ancient ruins were discovered worldwide, proving this power had existed ages ago and was simply returning. The combination of newfound energy, archaeological discoveries, and the cultivation abilities that followed threw civilization into complete upheaval.

In the chaotic decade that followed, military forces tried to weaponize cultivators, but some merchants offered better pay. Governments sold off assets desperately. Legal systems crumbled. Order became something you could buy and patent.

There had been efforts to crush the democratic movements, but people had already gotten a taste of freedom and weren't giving up without a fight. After years of conflict and backroom deals, the world settled into its current state. Religion lost most of its influence. Old noble houses and royal families slowly transformed into corporate dynasties, still ruling but indirectly through bank accounts instead. Meanwhile, traditional governments stuck around like hollow shells—holding theoretical power at corporate discretion, yet still able to influence the masses when needed.

So why was Vincent suddenly thinking about world history?

The new era of business had already begun for this world, and any corporation that didn't evolve would get left behind like the old nobility who couldn't adapt. Some industry leaders had probably already figured this out, which meant he needed to act quickly.

Damn, it always comes back to money, Vincent thought. I need to find ways to squeeze every penny from my two cash cows.

His gaze drifted to Helena, who was lecturing Emily about something. Vincent's eyes lit up with inspiration, then dimmed with uncertainty, then narrowed with concentration.

A plan was forming in his mind, though he wasn't sure about the risks involved. Vincent finished his meal in thoughtful silence, making Helena and Olivia exchange glances and quickly signal Emily to contain her usual barrage of questions.

They traveled to the office in comfortable quiet, the city's morning bustle providing background to Vincent's strategic thinking. Just as they were preparing to exit the vehicle, Vincent turned to Helena with sudden decisiveness.

"Helena, what do you think about starting your own company?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A group of men were sprawled around a dingy living room. Despite it being afternoon, the space remained dimly lit with heavy curtains blocking most of the sunlight. Empty bottles, cigarette butts, and takeout containers littered the floor as they sat in a loose circle, eating and talking.

"Hey, I'm telling the truth. There's really a ghost in this damn house. I swear on my mother's grave," a bronze-skinned man said between bites of fried chicken.

"Bullshit. You're just drunk as usual," scoffed a middle-aged, red-haired man, waving dismissively.

"No, I'm dead serious about this," the bronze-skinned man continued, his expression growing genuinely solemn as he swallowed. "I got up to take a piss in the middle of the night yesterday. When I opened the bathroom door, I felt this chill run down my spine. The lights flickered on by themselves, and cold air swept right through me like... like something was watching me."

The casual atmosphere shifted as everyone finally showed genuine interest and wariness. A few of them exchanged uneasy glances, the laughter dying completely. They could tell that he was serious.

"The temperature just dropped, man. I could see my own breath in there. And I swear I heard this soft whispering, like someone was right behind me but when I turned around..."

Just as he was about to elaborate, a loud voice echoed from deeper in the house.

"AHH, FUCK!"

Everyone instantly went on high alert, scrambling for their weapons scattered around the room. But before they could even stand up properly, the same voice continued.

"Fuck, which idiot actually pissed in the fridge? This is so disgusting! Blurg!"

Sound of vomiting continued as all stood stunned frozen mid motion.

.….

The bronze-skinned man started sweating profusely.

"Damn it, I told you this moron should've been sent with Ron and Rick," muttered someone under their breath.

Suddenly, the red-haired man's phone rang. He answered immediately, gesturing for the others to shut up.

"Big Brother, what are your orders?"

A deep, authoritative voice came through the speaker. "Have you found the information I asked for about Vincent Cornelius?"

The red-haired man scratched his head, looking uncomfortable. "This... Big Brother, Ron and Rick have been gone for two days now and haven't returned yet. So we couldn't gather more intel."

"What? They haven't returned for two days and you didn't think to investigate? What about the rest of you? There are almost a dozen men there. Can't anyone handle a simple information gathering task?"

"I... yes, I'll send someone right away."

He didn't dare mention that those two had gone to collect debts and were likely enjoying themselves playing with some woman who sold herself to pay her family debts. The line went dead abruptly.

A blue-haired man sighed heavily. "I really don't belong in this setup. Those days when we worked as mercenaries with Big Brother were the best. You could eliminate targets without all this bureaucratic bullshit. Sometimes I just want to go back to those times."

"Don't talk like that," a green-haired guy interjected. "Big Brother and all our brothers are here now. Where would you go? Who could you trust if you went back to that mercenary world?"

"But haven't you noticed Big Brother's been irritable for the past two days?" countered a white-haired man. "I think he's having the same thoughts."

A yellow-haired guy who had been quietly listening finally spoke up. "Half of our brothers are now bodyguards in some big corporation. Relax while you can, later you might also need to protect Big Brother's woman."

"Forget it. Let's go find those two idiots and get the information he wants," the red-haired man said, pushing himself to his feet.

P.S.— Thank you @Bluevirus for the golden ticket and your constant support.