“Hey, old man,” Karta said, shooting a glance at Vremya from her spot on the couch. “I just thought of something.”

“Another way to exploit me to make money?”

“No, it’s not that,” the Labrador retriever said and rolled her eyes. “There’s been incidences of titans suddenly appearing out of nowhere in the middle of society, and no one’s been able to explain it. There’s no hints of teleportation or energy fluctuations; they just suddenly show up as if they were born there.”

“That’s not unreasonable,” Vremya said, nodding his head. “Creatures of darkness were all that existed, so it’d make sense if they left a few eggs or whatever behind when we cleared them out to make space for ourselves.”

Karta narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, it’s the accepted explanation, but isn’t there a much more obvious one? How many times have you used that banishing technique where you launch people into the future?”

Vremya scratched his head. “I’ve used it on quite a few titans back in the day.”

“Have you ever used it on a group of titans, like say, a thousand of them?”

“Perhaps.”

Karta blinked at Vremya. “…Red Monday was caused by you.”

“Hang on,” Vremya said, raising a hand to tap at his display. “Let me Poiskle that.”

“You don’t have to,” Karta said. “It’s the name of a massacre caused by a group of a thousand titans that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. All the primordial gods had to make a move to subdue them.”

Vremya nodded. “What about the other batches of titans? What days were named after them? I’ve launched over a thousand of them into the future more than once.”

Karta stared hard at Vremya. “I guess they just haven’t arrived yet.”

“Hmm.” Vremya shrugged. Well, if they did show up while he was around, all he had to do was banish them once more.

***

Paul stood atop a tree. It was the tallest tree on the peak of a mountain, and from his vantage point, he could see everything around for miles. Even though it seemed like he was nowhere near civilization, from his experience as an interdimensional mercenary, Paul knew this was the best place to find employees. Where would one find dozens of people desperate for money? A bandit hideout, of course! People turned to robbery when they couldn’t make a proper living due to whatever circumstance. If given the chance, regular people wouldn’t resort to murder and pillaging.

Paul whipped out a pair of binoculars and pressed them against his eyes. After scanning the surroundings, he finally found what he was looking for: smoke. Where there was smoke, there was people—or a tribe of really intelligent spirit beasts. Either way, it was a point of interest. Paul’s body vanished from where he was standing, and he reappeared a few miles away towards the direction of the smoke. As a mercenary, safety came first. No one would be there to patch him up if he died. He could only rely on himself; as such, most mercenaries chose to invest their all into their movement techniques rather than their offensive ones.

The group of bandits came into view pretty quickly. Paul was a little surprised at how fast he found them. If they were that easily located, they should’ve been eradicated a long time ago. Perhaps it was a newly formed gang. Honestly, he’d prefer a newer gang; the people in it would have less violent tendencies. Paul purposely stepped on a twig, and the men sitting around the fire stopped talking.

“What was that?” one of them asked.

“Probably just a boar.”

“Winkles, go check.”

“No need for that,” Paul said, stepping into view. If he wanted to employee these men, he needed to show them who was boss. During his time as a mercenary, he had entered quite a few eastern worlds, as he liked to call them, and there was one thing he found all the worlds had in common. The strongest was king—even if there was something wrong with him like having a huge personality defect unfit for a ruler or being beyond stupid. “I’m an entrepreneur, and I’m looking for ten employees. Does anyone want a job as a bodyguard?”

All of the bandits turned to face one person, their leader. He was a mean-looking fellow with tattoos and scars covering his face. His teeth were black, and his skin was tan, his veins wriggling on top of his bulging muscles. The leader exhaled through his nostrils and rose to his feet, drawing his sword. “If you want us to work under you, you have to defeat me in a battle.”

Paul nodded. It was a perfect time for him to test out the new business techniques the system had given him. He dashed forward, not bothering to equip himself with his sword and shield. The bandit leader harrumphed and swung his sword downwards at Paul, but the entrepreneur was like a ghost. His body was sliced in two, but it disappeared and reappeared behind the stunned leader. Paul’s arms wrapped around the bandit leader’s body like ropes, and the bandit leader screamed as his body was twisted into a pretzel—a result of Paul using all five techniques at once.

“Holy crap! He folded our boss like he was paper!”

“You’ve seen paper before?”

“I think we should follow him instead.”

Paul nodded as the number of employees under him increased. As expected, with Vremya’s Business Techniques, he could convince people to work under him without paying them. Perhaps they expected to be paid by following him, but that was what the second part of the reward was for.

[Middle-aged entrepreneur, great job! You’re well on your way to becoming an immortal CEO. Keep striving hard to expand your business.]

[Mission: Becoming a Tycoon Completed]

[Reward: Vremya’s Business Headquarters or Vremya’s Hypnotism Method]

“Hypnotism method,” Paul muttered, low enough to prevent the bandits from hearing. The relevant information flooded his mind, and Paul was left wondering whether or not he was joining the side of evil. The hypnotism method might as well have been a brainwashing method. It could erase memories, feelings, and common sense, and it could fabricate them as well. He could tell all these bandits that he was their father, and they’d believe it. Paul exhaled and gestured for one of the bandits to come towards him. As with any new technique, it had to be tested.

***

“The god of justice is going to kill Paul,” Karta said. Her head was leaning over to the side, and she was staring at Vremya’s display. “It might seem okay now, but if you keep giving him evil techniques, you’re going to regret it.”

“Oh?”

“You can Poiskle it if you don’t believe me,” Karta said. “Every time evil is eliminated, the god of justice grows in strength. She usually waits until the amount of evil done by the person surpasses a certain amount, kind of like waiting for a fruit to ripen.”

Vremya snorted. “Well, I’ll just send her into the future like I did with Dvizhen.”

Karta made a face. “If you send everyone into the future, who’s going to stick around to fight the titans?”

“I’ll send the titans into the future too. Then they can fight each other.”

“Old man, if you keep behaving like this, karma’s going to bite you in the butt.”

“Does she dare?” Vremya asked. “If she tries something funny, I’ll send her into the future as well.”

Karta shook her head. There was no reasoning with Vremya. He was more stubborn than the god of stubbornness. Just because he was a primordial god, he believed no one could do anything to him. He already offended Kosmos and Dvizhen, and now he was planning on going against the god of justice and the god of karma as well. Karta furrowed her brow. Maybe it was time for her to start taking some insurance measures in case things with Vremya went kaput.