KATIKA-Treason is never far away (Part.1)

Chapter 6 | Shark

Accepting that his life had been guided by a misjudgment that could have destroyed him was the prerequisite for his transformation: yes, HE HAD BEEN WRONG IN HIS CONVICTIONS.

The duality between good and evil was nothing more than a fairy tale served from their earliest age, and only the most intelligent had the ability to stop believing in it.

What is "good"? Nothing more than a choice commonly accepted by all.

What is "evil"? Another choice, condemned, but leading to a quicker victory.

The feeble-minded would dare to attack his honor, calling him a traitor to the human race. He would then have to do whatever it takes to ensure that his vision prevails.

Eating or being eaten, that is the only path in this world: he had been foolish not to realize it sooner...

A few names. They were just a few names he had selected and erased from society. He didn't know them personally, so why should he have any remorse for strangers?

The greatest good he had achieved with his actions was optimizing the profits of his family's empire. This also meant he owed apologies to his father.

Certainly not! A true bastard doesn't bow down to another; he prioritizes his pride and ego above all else. Readjusting his tie, he went back to work and instantly felt liberated from his mental weakness.

Power took hold of his body like an electric surge, and everything around him that was not material seemed to become secondary.

Everything except for his loved ones and Rebecca. Friendship and love were obviously felt by an asshole, and it was foolish to think that Woodford felt otherwise!

Bursting into laughter, he detested the form of Woodford the moment it appeared: happy and still too human. The laughter of the new man he had become had to be icy and guttural, with cruelty perceptible in every sound that his vocal cords produced.

His demeanor had to be that of a proud and excessively powerful conqueror, his gaze disdainful, and his behavior ignoble. All pity was now prohibited. Pity? What did that term mean exactly?

John stood up and went to his personal bar reserved for executives. He filled his crystal glass with fiery whiskey and took a large sip. Emitting a sound of intense pleasure, he poured himself another glass and placed the bottle back in the bar. He needed to keep his wits about him to work; getting drunk would only be a possible amusement for him.

His phone notified him of a received text, and according to the screen, it was from Rebecca: "We need to talk. Come see me in my office as soon as you can."

No doubt, she was aware of what had happened. But John didn't care anymore. He would have plenty of time to corrupt her through his influence as she got to know the new him, in case she had summoned him for a sermon...

Almost simultaneously, the CEO burst into the room, startling John in the process. Another new emotion he had to banish from his memory: fear. It must not have any effect on him, not even in the face of a surprise, as any individual would identify that vulnerability and try to exploit it.

With a cigar in his mouth, Woodford settled into a comfortable armchair near the bar, where he poured himself a glass of the same drink John had chosen a minute before.

Finally deciding to speak, he said, "John, I am proud of you. You put your conscience on hold and listened to the dark side within you. I love it, my boy, and believe me, within a month, it'll be you advising me to commit even more immoral acts than this one. There are great projects ahead, and I had to eliminate the only obstacle on our path without delay."

The young COO remained silent for ten seconds, then replied, "Can you repeat that? Conscience? What's that? I've never heard of it."

Perplexed by John's sudden turn, faster than he had anticipated, Woodford flashed the same Joker-like smile that had internally terrorized the Katika heir.

"Ah, there you go!" he said, "That's the John I've always wanted to shape, the one sleeping deep within you: insensitive and oblivious to any notion of good."

"The good?" John replied, "What is that?"

Woodford was starting to find him a bit annoying; he was overdoing it.

"Don't push it, kid," he advised, "It's never good to test my patience. Anyway, I came here just to congratulate you and welcome you to the world of business."

With that, he got up and left the office but didn't have time to close the door; a man came rushing in, looking angry.

"Mr. Katika," he said, "My name is Jeremy Carter, and I'm the president of the company's employees' union. I have been informed about the order for massive layoffs you've given, and let me warn you (he raised a threatening finger towards John) that if you don't reverse it, all the newspapers in the country will know, and I'm not sure that will be good for the company."

Ignoring Carter's advice completely, John only focused on the threat he had dared to utter against him. Consumed by wild rage, he began to shout:

"KNOW THAT I TAKE NO ORDERS FROM A PATHETIC LITTLE UNIONIST LIKE YOU!!! YOU CAN ALERT THE PRESS, THE PEOPLE, EVEN POPE FRANCIS IF YOU WANT, BUT IT WON'T CHANGE A THING."

Gradually regaining his composure, he managed to display the demonic smile he desired and said:

"Congratulations, dear Mr. Carter, you've just added a new name to the list of those fired: yours. Wait a moment..."

John sat back down in front of his PC and opened a new termination order file. Selecting the name "Jeremy Carter," he then clicked "send."

Turning back to the dismissed employee, he said:

"And there you have it, it's done. You shouldn't have dared to provoke me. When you sow the wind, you reap the whirlwind. Now, get out of here and return your equipment before leaving."

Carter did nothing; he stood there with his mouth open, unable to process the news of his dismissal. Strangely, his physical appearance had changed a bit: his long light brown hair lost its harmony and hung pitifully over his shoulders, while his already surprisingly small stature seemed tiny under the shock.

John looked at him again, threateningly:

"Apparently, you didn't understand me well, so I'll use forceful methods."

He stood up and grabbed the former president of the Katika employees' union by the collar, forcibly dragging him out of the room and throwing him outside, even adding the luxury of delivering a violent kick to his rear, making him fall to the ground.

"And don't let me see you again, or you'll regret it," said John.

Slamming the door behind him, he went back to work, reveling in his violence and eager to move on to the next step.