Number 7

Who was this man?

Why was he here?

Why did he just KILL all those police officers?

"You know, Randov. I've made a number of investments... all around the world. And do you know what annoys me more than anything?"

Walking over to the couch, the man sat down with grace as he smiled in a discomforting manner.

"When one of those investments fails to live up to their full... potential."

"Who are-"

"Yes, yes. Who am I. Why am I here? The typical questions. Of course, I do owe you an answer. But before any of that, what are you doing with your life, Randov?"

Slowly standing up, Randov felt himself filled with rage.

Who was this man, to come into this place after Randov had experienced such sadness - such rage - such horrible emotions - and speak as if he knew everything?

"You wanted to become Number 1, didn't you?"

Stopping Randov in his tracks, the man probed his mind.

"You wanted to rule the factions at the head of this nation, and hold them within the palm of your hand. You wanted to own a business so grand that nobody could possibly go against you. And yet... what are you doing going after a woman, crying and raging at her death like this?"

"What do you know about-"

"What do I know about anything? Randov... do you know how many of my loved ones I have watched die with my own two eyes?"

At that moment, Randov felt chills down his very core.

The man glared at him with the eyes of death, as if he were staring into the face of the devil himself.

"I know that pain better than anyone... which is why I am here to redirect your life AWAY from such things... that create pain."

Pointing to the bodies of the policemen, the man motioned around the room.

"Look at this scene. Enough to make one puke. Soon enough, there will be more officers on the scene as soon as they realize that nobody is responding. You're in quite the predicament. Those friends of yours didn't seem too loyal either, turning tail as soon as they received the slightest threat. Do you think they'll cover for you if they are questioned?"

Fixing his cuffs with a carefree expression as if the situation he spoke of was not his problem, the man merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Randov. I am here to offer you a proposition."

"You killed all these men... just to make a proposition?"

Disgust evident in his voice, Randov was taken aback.

However what happened next was enough to make his heart leap.

"JUST a proposition, you say?"

Holding his hand to his face, the man began to laugh.

"Hah... hahaha... if you approach your life with such a mindset... then it is no wonder that you are in this position. And I can say one thing with confidence, Randov."

Shaking his head in disapproval, the man glanced at Randov with an immense glare.

"You will never become ANYTHING unless you redirect the way you think."

Standing up, the man began to rebuke the boy.

"You've lived 17 years, almost 18, and you've made nothing of yourself. I provided you with not one, but two of my most capable soldiers to watch over your growth, and yet you did nothing more than make mistake after mistake... until you eventually landed yourself in this position. Randov... it pains me to say this, but you are a complete FAILURE. However..."

With a grin, the man stood up as he tipped his cap.

"It is only through FAILURE that the ones who are thought of as GENIUSES are born."

The words cut at Randov as he failed to comprehend them.

What was this man saying?

What was he trying to say?

What was he trying to do?

"Randov... is there anyone in your life who you can say without question that you can truly trust?"

Glancing up to the ceiling with a depressed sigh, the man stepped off his haughty throne for just a moment as he thinned his eyes in remorse.

"Your mother and father... they loved you. Yes, they loved you. Perhaps Krovak did not tell you this, since he was guilty of their death."

Holding up a finger to silence Randov before he could say anything, the man continued as the boy stumbled up to stand.

"And yet, I myself am the one who TRULY killed them... for it was I who ORDERED their deaths. That man merely pulled the trigger."

Standing up from his seat, the man's expression became serious in an instant as he placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy.

"Ah... I suppose I've failed to introduce myself."

With a polite bow, the man grinned with elegance as he spoke in a proper manner.

"I am Martin von Speizer, Commander of the Royal Army of the Kingdom of Joraten."

"You... are the commander?"

At this, Randov was taken aback.

For just an instant, he forgot everything.

His rage. His anger. His self loathing. His insecurity. His despair.

For standing before him was his goal - the man who he had been trying to reach all his life.

"What... no... who were my parents?", the boy asked.

"Before any of that... you must understand one thing."

Gripping the chin of the boy, the man looked into the eyes of Randov.

They were filled with so many emotions that the Commander stared into them for a few moments, processing the boy as he nodded.

Pulling his head back, the man spoke.

"Your parents truly loved you, Randov. And yet... you were never able to experience such love, for they had died before you were ever able to meet them."

Closing his eyes as he folded his arms behind his back, the man began to pace as he spoke.

"The students at your school never once stood up for you... perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of indifference... and perhaps out of hatred... not one time did anyone from that school ever put forth the effort to HELP you. Am I wrong?"

"What are you getting at?", the boy asked impatiently.

However, ignoring this, the man continued as he paced.

"Your teacher and the principal of that school... perhaps they WANTED to help you... yet were only able to do so in a miniscule manner. Never once did they truly sacrifice themselves in order to rid you of your torment. Am I wrong?"

"You... you're not wrong, but what's your point!?"

This time yelling out as tears formed in his eyes, Randov was getting tired of hearing this man.

"Your fellow colleagues left as soon as they were threatened with the loss of their jobs... and even the girl you loved... has betrayed you."

Stopping right before the boy, the man turned once more to look Randov in the eyes.

"Randov... if that girl truly believed in you, then would she have possibly faltered and even considered the temptations which that man offered her?"

He felt as if he were being choked.

He was being choked with reality.

It was suffocating.

Enough to crush him.

"Why...."

"Why indeed, Randov. Why indeed. Look at yourself. Surrounded by people... who are unwilling to suffer for you. However this is not a surprise, Randov."

With a smile, the man chuckled.

"This is human nature."

Placing his hand on the shoulder of the boy, the man nodded with satisfaction.

"It is human nature to desire to protect yourself. It is human nature to become angered when someone hurts you. It is human nature to abandon those around you in order that you may not be caught up in whatever trouble someone finds themselves in. This is all... natural. And you were unable to realize this... and instead deceived yourself into thinking that you had finally found a situation where everyone LOVED you."

Waving his hand for Randov to follow, the man spoke with sadness.

"That was your first mistake."

With each step, the man seemed to shake the very foundations of the boy's heart, who was unsure whether to follow or not.

"Trying to find love in a world which is based on hatred."

"So what should I do?", the boy asked.

Stopping in his tracks as he walked towards the exit, the man grinned.

"There is only one solution, Randov. In order to escape the hatred... one must become completely indifferent to everything... and everyone."

Reaching into his pocket, the man took something out, holding it in the air as he gleaned at it with pride.

"Like a chessmaster who moves his pieces... in order to escape this cycle of despair... one must become willing to see everyone around them..."

In his hand was a chess piece.

The weakest of all the pieces.

The one which could be sacrificed at any moment without hesitation, were it to save a more important piece.

"As a pawn."

----

"The police will no longer pursue you. The incident has been covered up and taken care of."

The two sat in the back of a limousine.

The driver in the front ignored the two in a professional manner, focusing completely on his task as the two spoke with one another.

"Why would you do this for me? What's in it for you?"

"Randov, how many times in your life have you been SAVED?"

Holding up his hand, the man showed three fingers.

"Three times."

"What are you talking about?", the boy questioned.

"The first... was when your parents were killed."

His parents.

Despite living his entire life without knowing them, the mere mention of them was enough to bring Randov on the edge of his seat, patiently waiting for this man to tell him more.

He could not trust him.

Yet even though he could not trust him, he desired more than anything to hear what he had to say.

"Your father shielded you from the bullet which was aimed at your head, as they tried to flee the border into a new nation. Now let me ask you. Do you blame us for doing our job in trying to prevent your parents from escaping?"

Presented with this question, Randov didn't know how to answer.

Could he blame this man?

Was this man worthy of blame?

"I... suppose not.", he admitted.

"Yet... while your father shielded you of the bullet... there was one particular man who I spoke with on that day who pledged his loyalty to me. And this was the man who took you away from that place... saving your life."

"There was... someone else?"

Who was this person?

Who saved his life on that day?

"Oh, you know him well. His name was Nerokov."

"Nerokov!?"

With a grin, the man laughed with nostalgia.

"Yes... we fought on that day. We almost killed one another... and yet, after speaking with him, I realized what your parents were trying to do... and I felt pity for them."

"So what happened?"

"I called everything off. However... my words were too late. The shots had already been fired... and your parents were already dead."

Randov could not stop his arms from twitching as he listened.

Finally, he was learning about what had happened - from the mouth of the very Commander who seemed to be in control of everything in his life.

"Nerokov asked me to take you somewhere safe... after which I assigned him to care for you in this nation while working for me. Yet as a soldier, and as one who has no King nor country remaining to pledge allegiance to... it is quite a dangerous field. This is why he was killed."

With a gulp, the boy recalled the old man who had cared for him.

Nodding for the man to go on, Randov urged the Commander to continue.

"I then assigned Krovak to protect you. You might think that it was in bad taste. To have the very man who killed your parents to care for you... haha... and yet, why do you think I did that?"

Why?

Randov thought and he thought, but he had no clue.

Randov had not held any immense amount of hatred towards Krovak, for he never knew his parents - yet what if he had?

Why would this man do such a thing?

"It was because I knew that you would not hold such hatred - but more so than that, you were filled with curiosity. When one does not know a person, they do not hate someone for killing that person. Yet even so, when such a person is someone who they are tied to through some sort of bond... and especially through a bond of blood... they cannot help to seek out such a person with interest. Randov... that was my way of making you desire to meet me - as the one orchestrating everything."

"Why didn't you just come and meet me if you wanted that so much?", the boy questioned with a fierce glare.

Taken aback, the man merely laughed.

"Oh, that? Simple. Why would I want to meet someone who had no standing, no skills, no position, nothing to speak of? Randov, despite what you may think... you have been molded through your experiences. And now... I believe you have been properly prepared for the role that I have for you."

Suddenly, the limousine came to a halt.

The door was opened, at which the Commander stepped out, and then the door on the side of Randov was opened as well - at which he witnessed the place which they had arrived at.

"This is... the warehouse?"

"That man was quite a pain in my side, you know. He had many, many contacts... and going against him using legal or illegal matters was beyond troublesome. He always had hundreds of powerful people around him... though perhaps you yourself did not notice these things. And yet there was one single moment... on one single night... in which he was free of these guards. And that was when he wanted to make that girl his own."

With a delirious grin, the man tipped his hat so as to cover his eyes.

"How interesting people are... humans always let their guard down when it comes to matters of passion."

Looking up, the man walked forward as he entered the warehouse.

"Ah, but here I am speaking as if I am not one of them myself. Worry not, Randov. I AM human... I just happen to be very good at reading people."

----

"You want me to take over this business? After I killed the owner with my own two hands?"

"You see Randov... with that man eliminated, those who supported him have gone into hiding. A number of bigshots will be filled with fear at being targeted as well, and the entire industry can be easily shaken. So, what if some new kid were to take over a powerful company... and work in producing and testing foreign weapons?"

"Weapons?"

"Do you not know what is happening right now? The nation of Joraten is currently in a state of unity under their new dictators... and scientists all over the world are being taken in to develop the grandest weapon in the history of the world. There have even been rumors of such a thing that could destroy entire cities in an instant."

"We... we're going to be producing such a thing here?"

"Oh, goodness no. Such a thing is nothing more than a rumor, Randov. However... the fact of the matter is, those scientists are coming up with an immense number of newfound contraptions every day. And as a member of the Royal Army, I am considered to be nothing more than a rebel in my own nation - a traitor to the current regime. I was able to establish certain contacts within Stronvardia here on the condition that my people who are still hidden within Joraten act as spies... giving information on the latest military movements and advancements. And THAT is where you come in."

The two entered the warehouse, which was currently empty of people - however it was filled with all sorts of machinery and production lines.

"If I were to provide you with everything you need in order to produce such advanced weaponry... and you were to manage the production... then you could quite literally stand on top of this nation."

'Stand... on top?'

As Randov gazed around at this cursed warehouse, he saw something.

A vision.

Was it his imagination?

Such a thing felt unreal, and yet so grounded in reality.

He felt something emanating from the man in front of him - a confidence unlike any other, as if his words were truth without question.

As if everything he uttered would become reality.

"Yes... you could be the one to control the very direction of not only this nation... but this entire world, so long as you follow me."

With a grin, the man held out a hand to the boy - who was reluctant to take it.

"What will you do, Randov?"

"I... will do it."

With a fierce resolve, the boy bolstered himself as he looked forward with an intense dedication.

"Even if all those promises were broken... even if all that love which was given to me was for nothing... even if everything in this world is false... I will make that one thing true."

Shaking the man's hand, the boy spoke no longer with the tone of a boy, but with the grin of a businessman.

"I will take this entire world... and redirect its path as I please."

----

Years passed.

Decades passed.

And over the course of decades, Randov built his business.

"Of course, having the production of such dangerous weapons within an open warehouse like this would be... ill advised, at best. In order to protect the secrecy of the operation, the warehouse must be expanded. A lower level must be built in which all illegal activity will occur."

These were the instructions which the Commander had given to Randov at that time, which he had followed to a tee.

"But even better than that... if you were to expand the entire facility so as to redirect the attention of the populace elsewhere, then this would be for the best. Perhaps if you were to build a department store in which the warehouse would be used for... then nobody would pay any mind to such a place."

Randov had done exactly this.

A department store was built to hide the intentions of the warehouse. An underground sector was built within the warehouse, in which all illegal activities were performed.

All weaponry and dangerous items were stored in this place, and hidden away from the public eye.

That was where the nightmare had begun.

Over the years, the Commander would approach Randov whenever there was a new project, and his warehouse expanded to a point where it became one of the largest centers of weapons production in the entire nation of Stronvardia.

However with the introduction of the nuclear bomb, this all changed for Randov.

Unable to conduct the mining operations which were necessary in order to produce such weaponry, competition began to spring up - competition which had the capabilities to produce such things.

Randov found himself at a loss.

At this point, Randov decided to enter another field - the field of drug production.

While the competition was just as harsh due to the existence of the mafia branches within the area, the production capabilities which he had within the warehouse and the connections he had with the government were stable, and he was able to easily surpass most - thus becoming a target of the ones who were in control of the business.

After receiving a number of threats, he considered retiring with the vast sum of money he had acquired over his years. After all, even though he did have the power and contacts to fight back, there was no need to do so.

However it was on that day that Randov met a particular man.

"Why don't you become an honorary member of our family?"

Presented with this offer, Randov would be able to continue his activities with the protection offered by a certain man.

The profits would be split between him and this organization, and he would no longer have to do anything - save watching from his camera room as his employees worked into the ground.

Thus, he accepted.

Not only did he accept, but he increased production tenfold.

With the bodyguards provided by the gang, he was able to work his employees to ruin, trapping them within this place until the day they died.

This, combined with the horrible technology which he had once researched for the Commander, made this warehouse a place of destruction.

Yet there was one particular day in which all of that... ceased.

"Gooooooood MORNING, employees!!! How are we all doing today!? I see all of you have such... lovely expressions, and I'm CERTAIN that you're all EXCITED to get to work again on this beautiful day!"

Taking a stroll through the warehouse, the hairless man inspected the conveyor belts which had lines upon lines of workers producing drugs and other illegal products.

"Now then... I suppose it's time to end the night shift. After all, our customers are waiting outside at this very moment for the department store to open! And what is the most important thing in the world?"

Placing his hand to his ear, each and every worker seemed to perk up as they all spoke in unison, responding to the question of the man.

"The satisfaction of the customer... and the sale of a quality product."

Devoid of any sense of self and without a single bit of emotion, the workers droned like zombies, who had been perfectly trained in such a way.

"Not enough enthusiasm.... you all should know well that the customers don't like it when you seem TIRED. Come now! Once again! What is the most important thing?"

At that moment, each of the workers plastered a fake smile.

And in a disturbing manner with forced cheerfulness, they all spoke this time with a grotesque enthusiasm.

"The satisfaction of the customers, and the sale of a quality product!"

With a grand smile, the man closed his eyes as he nodded, waving his hand for the plethora of workers to get a move on as he headed to the rear of the facility - to the camera room.

There, he would view everything that happened from afar - always watching as his workers droned on.

"Very good! Now then... let's up those sales again today, shall we? And make sure that you keep a proper count."