The notification arrived at 3:02 AM.
A series of encrypted transfers, bouncing through Singapore and Zurich, finally landed in a dormant trust account PK had set up weeks ago. Thirty crores. Clean. Untraceable. The digital equivalent of a white flag.
Dustin stared at the screen, his reflection pale in the monitor. "He paid. PK... Leonard actually paid it. The money is here."
He waited for the "ghost" to celebrate. He expected PK to tell him the trace on the backer was successful. Instead, the line remained silent for a long, heavy minute.
"The trace failed," PK finally said. His voice wasn't frustrated; it was melodic, almost bored. "Leonard used a one-time satellite relay. He's smarter than he looks. His backer remains a ghost."
Dustin sighed, leaning back. "Well, at least it's over. We have the thirty crores for R&D, and Leonard is neutralized. He won't dare move against us now that he's paid the 'privacy fee.' We can finally bury the recordings."
"Bury them?"
The distortion in PK's voice shifted. It sounded like a low, metallic chuckle.
"Dustin, upload the hotel recordings to every major tech portal and the SEBI whistleblower tip-line. Use the 'Burner' protocol. Make sure the audio of them asking for fifteen crores is the first thing people hear when they wake up."
Dustin's chair nearly tipped over as he jumped up. "What?! PK, we took thirty crores from him! The deal was silence. If we release the tapes now, we're breaking the agreement!"
"I don't remember signing anything," PK remarked dryly. "Do you?"
"But... we asked for double the money to 'leave the problem'!" Dustin's voice went up an octave, his eyes wide with genuine shock. "We took his money, PK! If you release this, you're not just defeating him—you're destroying his entire life. He'll be blacklisted globally. His 'masters' will probably make him disappear!"
"Exactly," PK replied. "Efficiency."
Dustin stared at the blurred avatar on his screen. For the first time, he didn't see a partner. He saw something ancient and predatory.
"You're... you're a demon," Dustin whispered, a cold shiver running down his spine. "You took the money just to strip him of his resources before you executed him? You aren't even giving him a chance to retreat!"
"Dustin, you look at me like I'm a monster," PK's tone was almost hurt, though the wit remained sharp. "I'm just a gardener. Leonard is a weed. If you pull a weed but leave the roots, it grows back. If you take the weed's water—that's the thirty crores—and then salt the earth... well, that's just good landscaping."
"This is extortion followed by betrayal!" Dustin shouted, pacing the room. "I thought we were the good guys!"
"We are the good guys," PK said smoothly. "The good guys just won thirty crores and a scandal-free Monday. Also, I've edited the tapes. The part where we asked for thirty crores is... shall we say, 'mysteriously corrupted.' The world will only hear Leonard's men trying to shake us down."
Dustin stopped pacing. He looked at the "Send" button on the script PK had prepared. His finger trembled. He felt like he was selling his soul to a ghost who didn't even believe in souls.
"He's going to come for us, PK. Not with lawyers. With a hitman."
"He can try," PK replied, and Dustin could almost hear the invisible man smiling. "But it's hard to hire a hitman when your bank accounts are frozen and your reputation is a smoking crater. Now, press the button, Dustin. Don't be a saint. The halo doesn't suit your fashion sense anyway."
Dustin looked at the screen, then at the empty darkness of his office. He realized then that PK didn't just want to win the game. PK wanted to delete the other players.
With a numb finger, Dustin hit [ENTER].
"Good boy," PK whispered. "Now, go get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very loud day."
The Aftermath
Somewhere in a penthouse across the city, Leonard was pouring a celebratory drink, thinking he had bought his survival.
He didn't know that in PK's world, a "settlement" was just a way to fund the funeral of your enemy.