OLD-WORLD EXTRA

Chapter 377: Corp Plaza

Chapter 377: Corp Plaza

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***

In known history, two Cold Wars have taken place.

The first was beyond ancient, suspected to have happened before Earth's technological singularity.

A time before the old world even existed. Many tens of millennia ago.

It might be more than that, by much, no Earthener knew.

That information wasn't shared by the Order.

This estimate they had was based on scientific evidence that the UEF managed to gather, so like the history books that filled the Archives shelves, it wasn't something completely reliable.

But even though this information had to be taken with a mountain of salt, it could still be trusted... somewhat.

Anyhow, the first Cold War saw the Soviet Union and its allies, the Eastern Bloc, fight proxy wars with the United States and their own allies, the Western Bloc.

The date wasn't specified, but it must've begun after the Second World War and ended with the fall of the Soviet Union.

Communism had collapsed, and Capitalism thrived.

The consequences of that were still present to the current day, but not many complained, the commies were still unpopular.

Everyone hated the Liberation Army and their brotherhood.

While they weren't exactly communists, they gained that label simply because they were enemies of the UEF and the Big Eight.

Such was the battle of minds, make your enemy inhuman to justify their annihilation.

Was it the first time?... Certainly not.

An unarguable example of this trick occurred in the Second Cold War.

A war that was known more about.

After all, it was the Cold War that turned hot, erupting into nuclear Armageddon instead of a cute little arms race that culminated in the deaths of relatively few Japanese.

Many things happened, and it would be too long to list but the summary of that was this: "The black plague, white death, and that undying COVID strain combined had nothing on that day. Not even if all wars combined into one would they prove to be adequate competition." In a single day, Earth ceased to exist.

Life on the surface was extinguished.

Human idiocy wasn't to be underestimated.

Thankfully, world leaders learned their lesson after that day.

Well... at least on the surface.

That was an improvement, no?

Probably not.

Actually, they didn't learn their lesson at all.

Instead of fighting with weapons, they fought with credits, only ending lives if there was no other option.

That wasn't because they felt merciful, but because they knew that it'd be used against them by the rest,

The question was... When did this new one start?

It was recent-seventy-six years back.

Once corporations fully established themselves, this new Cold War brewed behind the scenes. Though it was secret, it had affected the lives of many, forcing the UEF to intervene.

They had built Corp Plaza for them, an arena that became the melting pot where the war slowly cooked.

Spies and espionage between corporations were commonplace. Treachery was expected. Most would even call it the bare minimum, for the battle highly depended on information. This new Cold War was more than just a shadow conflict; it was a maze of double-dealing. The Big Eight, each with their own agendas, engaged in a never-ending waltz.

It wasn't just about who had the best products or the most innovative technology-it was about who could outmaneuver, outwit, and outlast their rivals in the game of corporate espionage.

In the corridors of high floors, CEOS and executives whispered plans in soundproof rooms, their words veiled in layers of subtext and innuendo.

Every handshake concealed a hidden dagger, every smile masked a sinister intent.

Corporate espionage became an industry unto itself, with specialists, netweavers, and spies all playing their part.

Information was the currency of this war, and everyone had a price.

They infiltrated each other's ranks, planted moles and sleeper agents deep within their competitors.

Blackmail, bribery, and extortion were just tools of the trade.

It was a place where alliances were made and broken in the blink of an eye, where yesterday's

ally could become today's enemy.

Loyalty did not exist in their vocabulary.

Employees were often caught in the crossfire, their careers and lives jeopardized by the

machinations of their superiors.

Whistleblowers and defectors faced dire consequences-disappearances, 'accidents,' or

worse.

Public trust in the corporations had long since eroded, but the web of corruption ensured that no one could challenge their dominance without becoming entangled in the same dirty game, making them no different than the Goliath they claim to be the David of.

Projects were sabotaged, innovations stolen, and reputations destroyed, and that was an everyday occurrence.

Of course, this war wouldn't have continued to this day if not for who the average man called

Fixers.

Every corporation had them-men and women-whose job was to clean up the messes, to bury the scandals, and silence the inconvenient truths.

These fixers operated in the underbelly of all sectors, alongside the gangs, their work unseen but vital to maintaining the facade of legitimacy.

They bribed officials, doctored documents, and occasionally, made people disappear, usually

by assassination.

The Academy could be considered one of them, as Emir and Co had to do the dirty work that guaranteed its existence, only instead of killing people, they killed constructs and monsters.

But... no matter what was said, at the end of the day, the UEF had contained the war.

That was enough.

While seeing the rotting chaos and instability their decision brought almost made them

regret their decision, they would still do it again if given the chance.

After all, the Order was involved, and if the Big Eight were concentrated in a single place, their influence would spread slower.

In the Third Cold War, there were no clear winners or losers, only survivors.

And the war continued to brew, each side waiting for the moment to strike, to tip the balance

of power in their favor.

Unfortunately, this balance was soon going to tip.

The UEF had no idea, nor did seven of the other corporations, leaving only one.

For all their schemes, they never expected the one to light the war on fire to be an unknown

employee, an impure.

But Emir knew that.

He had come to steal his invention like he did Arthur's Aether Core.

How did he know?

The 'novel' was a great teacher.

His and Laura's company, Prince Emporium had reached the limit.

Mariana's company, Hunters Den, did so as well.

There was no more room for growth.

The demand was too little, so no matter how much they increased their supply, their margins

wouldn't change by much.

Now, even though they were almost trillionaires, only if Emir's personal Valora was added of course, they still needed more, it wasn't even close to being enough.

Investing and the like wasn't going to cut it, not that they could do so in the first place, there

was no stock market.

The last time such a term was used was during the Old World, not so much after it.

If one wanted to buy 'interest' in a company or corporation, they had to transact directly with them, requiring an attorney, banker, and other professionals.

It was too much of a hassle, and there was a high chance that they wouldn't accept his credits,

they might even be dumb enough to try to spy on him or leak his information.

So with all that in mind, Emir decided to find a problem and create a solution.

That was the fastest way to make credits.

And what was faster than stealing both the problem and solution from someone who had

already worked on it for many years?

The poor man was employed at Apex Dynamics, his neck caught in their chains. Usually, in scenarios like these, emotion would influence the 'protagonist's' decision to either make them help the pitiful genius inventor or add them to their team.

But Emir's plan was far simpler than that much easier.

The patent about Gravbikes he spent so many years designing?

He would steal it, but not before killing the guy, extracting everything out of him, and

breaking his mind.

Gravbikes were already a thing, but their speed was slow since the systems installed on other magnetic repulsion-equipped vehicles weren't able to fit in their compact frames.

So only the Elite used them, and it was for fun. Not in combat, and definitely not in the

wasteland.

There was the want, the 'problem,' now they had to fulfill it, provide a 'solution,' something

different, better.

Emir thought of many names on the way but eventually settled on Sparrow.

Wasn't that a good name?

The name wasn't the only thing he would change.

He also planned to attach a massive rocket booster to the back.

When asked by his cohort for what reason he wanted that, his answer came simple.

"It'd be fun."

***

'Mhmm...'

A man sat at a corner table in a Luna Noir Café, savoring the rich, aromatic blend that the

establishment was renowned for.

It was a café commonly frequented by men like himself for the privacy it provided, a quaint retreat amidst the hubbub of Corp Plaza.

He rarely allowed himself such moments of peace, but today was an exception.

The world hadn't rained in so long, he wanted to enjoy it.

Corrosive droplets drummed a steady rhythm against the café's windows, creating a soothing

backdrop to the muted conversations within.

But that soothing mood was interrupted as someone neared his table.

"Would you like anything else, Sir Richard?"