Chapter Text
Location: M.A.D. Corp., ???
Date: March 13, ???
Time: 07:24 AM
The annual tournament of fighters has begun. All around the world, spectators bear witness to their area's best fighter. It begins with a draw of fighters; with them battling it out to see who will move on and have an opportunity to win the cash prize of 10 trillion dollars in their country's currency.
The people running it is a corporation called "Mutated Arena Dueling" or M.A.D. for short. These businessmen are the rule makers of this tournament. They’re also in charge of monitoring the tournament and seeing out the orders of the boss. This corporation is ran by a tyrant named Arkole; a brolic monster of a man who crushes his foes and burns them in the sake of keeping all of his money and power safe. Occupying a skyscraper somewhere in the world, businessmen discuss the rules of this year's tournament.
Arkole was walking towards the boardroom. He had charcoal skin with a set of rings on each finger. He could be described as "The Man" and his actions were just but in a way to screw over anybody he deemed “unfit” for his business.
Arkole cracked his knuckles as he walked. "Are my mutated fighters ready?" Arkole asked with sophisticated impatience.
A scientist, trailing behind the big man, would look at his tablet. "Yes sir. We have two in the tubes, ready to do your bidding."
"Good. Now all I need is one small favor from you."
"What is it, boss?"
Arkole stopped walking and turned towards him. "I will need your P45 and for you to leave my presence. You're fired."
"Fired!" the scientist exclaimed while he clutched onto the tablet. "But I have been here since day 1! You can't just fire me now." the scientist scolded Arkole, not knowing he made the biggest mistake of his life.
Arkole's hands were then engulfed in flames. "I said," Arkole grabbed onto the scientist's collar, "YOU'RE FIRED!" Arkole then punched the scientist in the stomach, launching him through the boardroom doors.
Arkole then walked into the boardroom and ordered two of his security guards to take the now unemployed scientist away from his sight. Every businessman in the room would be huddled onto the other side of the boardroom table. Arkole put out his hands and slammed his fist onto the table. Every businessmen knew that this was the start of the meeting and began scurrying back to their original position.
"Gentlemen! The time has come for the beginning of this year's tournament."
The businessmen cheered and clapped. All of them were excited that it was another year to get even richer.
"Before we begin, I would like to address your missing business partner."
There was an empty chair in the meeting room. Everyone looked around at each other, expecting the worst possible outcome and another business member bit the dust.
"Don't worry. He's on a recruitment mission to Australia."
A sigh of relief can be heard as the heavy burden of a fellow comrade gone was lifted off of their shoulders.
"Now, you know how we run this corporation."
Arkole pulled out a briefcase with a paper taped to it that read "Betting Case". Every businessman in the room placed all of their cash on Arkole winning the entire tournament; as Arkole dominated the tournament every couple of years.
"Send out the fliers! I want to see who in their right minds are foolish enough to try and steal my power and our money!"
The businessmen popped champagne and partied in the meeting room, for it was another year of earning riches easily.