“What’s actually going to happen?” The woman repeated, eying Kenox like she couldn’t comprehend what he was doing. “What in the world are you implying?”

“Oh, nothing much.” Kenox said calmly, his weak voice sweeping over the ears that were listening in shock more than anything else right now. He had to make sure the shock kept going, and that his words were impressive enough to hold their attention. If he lost it, his voice and appearance wouldn’t be able to draw back the upper hand.

Kenox cleared his throat and slammed a hand on the table as hard as he could, ignoring the stinging in his palm that resulted from the sudden movement. The financial reps around the table jumped in surprise, several of them exchanging nervous or baffled glances with each other before turning wide eyes back on Kenox. Even the woman looked rattled by the sudden aggression from Kenox – or Myronne Callimud, as they knew him – her icy eyes hesitating for the first time that entire meeting.

“I simply want you all to know that your plan won’t receive any financial backing from the palace.” Kenox continued with a smile, indulging slightly in the way the eyes locked on him managed to widen even further.

“What?!” One of the financial advisors cried, leaping angrily to his feet and glaring at Kenox. “Are you insane? This is clearly the best way to save our country from the downhill spiral it’s on!”

“It’s the only way.” Another advisor agreed hastily, nodding her head at the angry man. “We have no other options available.”

“Does the palace just want the country to spiral into complete ruin?” The first woman demanded, back in her false notions of power now as she pointed an accusing finger at Kenox. “You fools will drive the country to its destruction!”

“I’d say our financial advisors have already done a spectacular job of that.” Kenox responded as sharply as possible, glaring at every person sitting in the room.

His harsh insult had the effect he was hoping for. The more aggressive advisors flinched slightly or scowled and looked away, fully aware that the financial decline was at least in part a result of their incompetent back-up plans.

Kenox decided to monopolize on that feeling of shame for a little while.

“Our country clearly thrived on war and nothing else.” He called, trying to ignore the awkward cracks in his weak voice as he spoke. “To any thinking person, that would imply the need to create failsafes in case a war ended, wouldn’t it? But our incredible financial council,” He gestured at all of them as accusingly as possible, throwing in a deep scowl of disgust for good measure. “Somehow imagined that the world would be stuck in a state of war forever! You all believed we’d be able to leech off wartime profit for good. And so when the war ended, was Cannesia prepared to lose its primary source of income, live off financial stocks or kickstart back-up welfare programs?”

He slammed his hands on the table again, both of them this time, growling at all of the flinching advisors with the harshest glare his bony face could manage. “No! You fools let our country get blindsided! And in an era where most countries returned to prosperity in the face of peace, we fell into ruin. A pathetic country, one that lives only on war. You’ve made Cannesia a financial laughingstock.”

“We’re trying to fix that!” The woman manged to shout back, her voice wavering only slightly as she shot Kenox a hateful glare. “And we don’t exactly see the palace financial head coming up with any plans to fix it, do we?”

“On the contrary,” Kenox said smoothly, shooting her a look that matched every flame of her ire. “The palace has developed a new plan, one that we intend to pursue before we sell out our own population.”

The woman looked shocked by his response, and several of the reps around the table seemed equally perturbed by the news.

“A financial plan? The palace developed one?” One of the men at the far end of the table asked with disbelieving eyes. “It can’t be.”

“And yet it is.” Kenox said smoothly, stepping back from the table and turning away from it so they could only see his back.

This was usually a stance he took when giving his own speeches. After delivering a hook to catch the audience’s attention, he turned away so they couldn’t see his face, creating an automatic sense of intrigue in what he had to say. Plus, since the human instinct was generally to look at faces or eyes when speaking, more gazes would be riveted to him as he spoke, subconsciously waiting for him to turn around again.

It created build-up to a major point – the only disadvantage was that he had to speak louder so everyone could still hear him, even when he turned away from them.

Thankfully, this was a fairly small conference room, not a full auditorium that he’d have to project seriously into for his voice to be heard, but he definitely wouldn’t be able to hold the position long with the tinny voice of this body.

“You see, the palace has been looking at what made Cannesia such an influential trading power in the past.” Kenox began, internally cringing at the softness of his voice bouncing off the wall back at him. He’d need to step up the volume or he’d lose the crowd.

“Clearly!” He shouted, satisfied with the jumping sounds he heard from the seated advisors behind him. “It was war and our ability to create wartime products! That much is obvious.”

Kenox clasped his hands behind his back, straightening slightly and glaring firmly at the wall before him. Slight movements here and there were also necessary to maintain attention.

“And so, the palace began to think of how we could re-simulate such economic success for our country, without the use of complete war.” He continued, still keeping his voice at a near shouting level as the reps watched him.

“We need demand for our supplies, that is what it boils down to. We have an excess of wartime production equipment! We have a backlog of weapons and gear! And what would spur demand for such things, if not actual war and political conflict?”

Kenox held up one of his hands in the air, pointing at the ceiling confidently. “Simply put,” He began slyly, smirking over his shoulder at the crowd of reps ogling him with wide eyes. “Artificial political conflict.”

Shocked murmurs and whispers ran throughout the room, the reps muttering to each other and themselves, looking at Kenox like they were trying to figure out what he was saying.

“Artificial political conflict?” One of the women finally spoke up, her amber eyes looking at Kenox uncertainly. “What is that?”

“Glad you asked.” Kenox grinned, spinning around fully and planting his hands on the table again, leaning into them and looking at all of the reps with keen eyes. “It’s imaginary tension between countries. A sense of fear or paranoia hanging over them that there is danger abound, even if there actually isn’t anything to fear.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Kenox lifted a hand into the air, waving it around casually. “This sort of tension has spurred all kinds of problems in the past. Countries get wind of rumors that another country is building something big, or that they’ve moved a set of weapons to a location quite near themselves. The panic begins, the fear of invasion or attack, and the country that has imagined the threat feels the need to prepare itself.”

Kenox glanced at each of the financial advisors, looking deep into their eyes to ensure they got his point. “From baseless rumors spur a drastic and sudden urge to buy defenses. Weapons. Wartime equipment.” He said smoothly, dark eyes moving from one gaze to another. “And once one country starts buying and building, others take notice. And the paranoia spreads to them.”

Kenox’s eyes finally connected with the icy-eyes of the woman who’d been leading the meeting up until now, their gazes locked in a battle for power.

“Everyone suddenly wants wartime equipment, even if there’s no official war going on.” He told her, dark gaze unflinching. “In other words, what the palace is suggesting…”

Kenox finally looked away from the woman, folding his hands behind his back and throwing the room a confident smirk.

“Is that we start a cold war.” He said with finality.

The room fell into complete silence after Kenox spoke, each of the reps trying to take in the plan in pure astonishment. Kenox didn’t blame them for their shock and confusion. They were financial advisors, versed in the fields of the economy, of numbers and stocks and financial trends. They had never considered military strategy or political relationships beyond how it impacted national debt and expenditures or trade relationships. To use espionage to start a cold war, and through that to kickstart a failing economy, would never have occurred to them.

Essentially, they were just like Hidari. All about the economy, but ignorant of how other fields could impact it outside of spreadsheets and number charts.

Kenox felt the smirk on his face grow even wider at that thought.

After a few more seconds of silence passed by, the reps still shaking their heads in astonishment and thinking about the plan, Kenox continued his speech.

“We will develop an espionage task force that will propagate rumors towards some of our previously allied countries within the past war.” He said confidently, smiling at all of the reps whose gazes now turned to him once more. “The rumors will warn of their past enemies building up weapons and defenses in secret. We’ll build them slowly until our allies seem desperate, then we’ll openly offer our wartime products to them. Once they start buying,”

Kenox’s smile turned into a grin, his eyes glinting a bit with the next phase of his plan. “We go to the countries on the other side, and offer our services there, as well.” He said simply. “We make no formal alliances this time around. We only provide weapons to anyone who wants them. We’ll capitalize off the tensions of war that we’ll create between multiple sets of countries, spurring our country’s production levels and economy again.”

He held his hands up in the air, still grinning at all of the reps before him. “Through a cold war that freezes the rest of the world, Cannesia will begin to burn brightly again.” He crowed into the room, voice only cracking slightly on the country’s name. “As we rekindle our previous flames, it will be your jobs to figure out failsafes for once the cold war ends.”

Kenox gave each of the financial advisors a stern glare, making sure they all held his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. “We want back-ups this time for when war tensions de-escalate. Convince the people to start agricultural settlements. Offer programs with the money we make in the cold war to start small businesses. Create frameworks for economic success however you feel we can, while we have a successful economy.”

Kenox folded his arms across his chest, closing his eyes as he began to close out his speech. “Eventually, the cold war will end. Either by turning into a full-blown war which will only perpetuate our good fortune for longer, or by resolving itself into peace with negotiations and deals. No matter what, eventually the world will return to peace, and Cannesia needs to be prepared for that.”

He opened his eyes again and glared firmly at the financial advisors spread around the table. “Can you prepare us?” He asked firmly, dark eyes serious.

The reps looked at each other, a few murmurs and whispers being exchanged around again. None of them looked terribly certain, but the light of hope was sparked in their eyes again. He could see it. A second chance for them to prove themselves capable of handling this country’s economy.

Eventually, the icy-eyed woman faced him with resolution in her blue gaze. “We can.” She said confidently, nodding her head. “We’ll make sure Cannesia continues to burn strong, even in times of peace.”

“Good.” Kenox smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the others in the room began to nod their agreement, promising to begin work on potential programs immediately.

“I’ll need to have someone write up a draft of the financial plan to give to the palace.” Kenox said next, glancing around the room. “The cold war plan hasn’t been openly discussed because it wasn’t clear if it would receive financial backing. If the plan comes to our palace leaders by your very hands, it will certainly go through.”

“You want us to propose a cold war?” The amber-eyed woman asked in shock, leaning away from the table slightly. “Can’t you all just write it up and we sign off in agreeance?”

Kenox shook his head firmly, keeping his arms crossed. “No. It has to be from the financial representatives or the palace won’t be convinced that you’ve given your full support.” He declared. “A cold war is a drastic step, after all. It needs your complete backing.”

“I’ll write it.” One of the men at the end of the table offered, standing up and bowing to Kenox respectfully. “I used to be in the military as an operations specialist, so I’ve got a decent idea of how to word our intended operation.”

“Thank you.” Kenox smiled at the man, excitement buzzing in his chest as the other reps nodded respectfully towards the man. “Can you write it here and now, in this meeting? That way, we can all sign and it will be delivered to the palace heads by the end of the day.”

The man gave a simple nod and Kenox’s eyes darted around the room, trying to see if there was any paper or writing implements nearby. It didn’t look like the conference room had any, and unfortunately, Kenox couldn’t exactly pop into the hallway and shout for a servant to get him some.

He wasn’t the real Myronne Callimud, after all.

Thankfully, before the problem grew any larger, the military man himself took out a quill and an ink bottle from a satchel he’d brought to the meeting, setting a stack of yellowed paper beside the writing utensils.

“An appointed scribe.” Kenox thought with relief, closing his eyes briefly to thank whatever forces were in control of this simulation. “Thank goodness the meeting had an appointed scribe to take down a summary of it.”

“I’ll write the summary after we finish our policy proposal.” The man said aloud, looking up at Kenox for confirmation. “I feel like we should sort out the wording and details of our cold war plan first.”

“Agreed.” Kenox nodded at the man, finally allowing himself to sit back down in his chair at the head of the table. The eyes looking at him now as he sat weren’t full of the same condescending mirth as they’d held before. Now, there was a note of respect and even of admiration in some of them. Now, the eyes looked at him as if he belonged at the head of the table.

Kenox held back his triumphant grin as he ordered the man to begin writing, and the financial reps began a lively discussion of the details of the plan, shooting back ideas for wording back and forth as the man’s quill scribbled over paper. The ins and outs of the plan were heavily debated, with the advisors taking unique financial perspectives on each aspect of it and developing agreed failsafes as they went.

Kenox interjected occasionally now and again if he saw an idea of theirs that might interfere with other aspects of the country, but mostly, he let the advisors do their thing, only watching and nodding along.

Several hours passed, and Kenox was just beginning to worry about the surely-conscious-by-now man locked up in the closet when the military man declared the proposal finished.

A round of applause went up from the table and Kenox ordered the document to be passed around, pleased as each financial rep signed their name at its bottom. When it came to his turn to sign, at the very end, he could only guess at the real Callimud’s signature, scrawling a quick line along its bottom and standing up from the table once more.

“Thank you everyone for your support.” He smiled at them all, triumph rising like a bonfire in his stomach. “Let’s look towards the future together and revitalize Cannesia as we’ve never dreamed before.”

The representatives applauded to show their agreement, each standing up from the table and slowly drifting away out of the room. Kenox thanked them each and offered well wishes as they left, growing ever more conscious of the man in the closet as the seconds ticked by.

Callimud had to be awake by now.

It had been hours since Kenox had strangled the man into incapacitation. He should’ve woken up from unconsciousness right after Kenox had locked the closet door, and Kenox could see no feasible reason why the man would’ve remained silent after waking up.

Unless Kenox had severely underestimated Terence’s strength and had genuinely strangled the man to death.

…He was going to have to check on that, wasn’t he?