It takes a special kind of arrogance to stand 30 feet above the crowd, in front of a six thousand cheering capitalists, and announce that you've just privatized a country's worth of forbidden land.
Lucien Vale does it as simply as ordering another round of designer cocktails
He stood on the main stage at the biggest business conference on the planet, covered in a tan that cost more than most people's mortgages and wielding the charm of a man that was unequivocally certain of three very simple facts.
Fact #1: He was obscenely rich.
Fact #2: He was dangerously attractive.
Fact #3: Morals, ethics and most laws simply didn't apply to him (for more information see facts 1 and 2)
He pulled straight his perfectly tailored obsidian suit, hand stitched by blind Mongolian monks. Or maybe it was Tibetan. He wasn't really listening when his assistant explained.
"Vordinia," He said, addressing the roaring crowd, voice dripping with confidence and the smell of champagne. "The forbidden land. Untouched by man for millennia. Sacred, magical, off-limits… until today. And now? It's mine."
Cameras flash, reporters gasp, a man faints as he watches the stock market react to the unexpected announcement.
Lucien barely noticed, much too enamoured with his own reflection in the crystal-clear teleprompter screen.
"While the rest of you tip-toed around legends and alleged curses, I saw opportunity. Where others saw ancient warnings, I saw potential for profit."
He paused for dramatic effect, something he was very good at. Then, he leaned in with his signature smirk, eyes gleaming, teeth beaming. Millions of hearts around the world skip a beat in unison.
"I expect at least 5 billion within the first quarter. But… you all know me… I wouldn't get out of bed for less."
The crowd exploded. People leapt to their feet, clapping, howling, cheering. Business cards flew through the air like some kind of twisted investor's Mardi Gras.
Backstage, a team of lawyers and legal advisors were already drafting PR statements to fend off human right groups, environmentalists and probably a few cults.
He strutted off the stage like a king returning from conquest. Microphones swarmed him, the questions came like a flood.
"Mr. Vale, is it true Vordinia is cursed—"
WHAM!
One of Lucien's private bodyguard clears out a row of journalists like a linebacker in heat.
"Lucien! What about the natives? Will they be compensated—"
BAM!
Another guard clears the way for his employer.
Lucien ignores the press, smiling smugly as he wraps his arms around two swaying hips wrapped in skin tight dresses. One Scandinavian. One Brazilian. He didn't remember their names… he never does, just that one had a magical tongue ring and the other purred when she climaxed.
"Ladies." he crooned as he led the women to a waiting stretch limo outside. "You're looking at the richest man in the world. I just unlocked the biggest magic deposit on the planet. I own magic now!"
"Oooooh." said the Brazilian, licking her lips. "Isn't that, like, really dangerous?"
"Not as dangerous as me!" he snorts, slapping them both on the ass.
"What are you gonna do with all that money?" the Scandinavian asks.
"What else?" Lucien grins. "Make more money. Maybe get a golden statue of myself. Always wanted to buy a country…"
He leads the women into the limo, his hands finding their every curve as he helps them settle in and they giggle with delight.
"But first…" he says, digging himself into the plush leather seats to make himself comfortable. "I need to unwind."
The air inside the limo grew thick with perfume, champagne and the kind of noises that would have even the best PR teams sweating bullets.
Lucien lounged across the limo seat. One hand tangled in blonde hair bobbing between his thighs, the other stroking a perfect pair of tanned tits. It was a mess of giggles, mouth maneuvers and barely-possible contortions.
Then the limo suddenly lurched to a stop.
Hard.
Lucien jerked forward. The blonde gagged as her teeth grazed places they had no business grazing.
"OW! Fucking hell?!" he snapped. "You trying to get my dick decommissioned?"
The girls collapsed into laughter as they helped each other wipe off their mouths.
Lucien tossed a high-heel against the raised partition. "Why the fuck are we stopping? Are we being robbed or something? I don't have time for this shit—"
"Car's dead, sir." the driver's voice croaked through the slightly lowered partition. "Power just cut out… I don't… I'm not sure, sir. I'll call—"
"Fuck!" Lucien groaned, checking his watch. "I have a meeting with three presidents and a drug lord in 47 minutes. Do you have any idea the kind of people I'm dealing with? One of them owes me a fuckin' country!"
He threw the door open and stepped into the street, buttoning his shirt like a pissed off runway model.
"Wait for me at the hotel." he croons to the women still pulling their clothes straight in the limo. He shoots them his signature smirk and they instantly swoon. "And invite some friends. I'm in the mood for a party."
"More like an orgy." one says with a giggle.
"Same thing." Lucien chuckles.
He flicks out his hand, waving a crisp 100 dollar bill. A yellow taxi screeches to a halt across the road a moment later.
"Perfect."
He slipped on his shades, smoothed his hair and strutted across the street like he owned the place… which he probably did, through one of his numerous shell companies.
But then came a sound.
A beep.
A screech.
Then the blinding flash of a chrome-plated truck grille shattering in his skull.
------------------
He woke up standing on a cloud.
The air smelled like ambrosia and tasted like guilt.
He blinked and looked down.
White mist curled at his feet as he stood bare chest, barefeet, family jewels flopping freely in the warm, heavenly breeze. He was happy to find he was still biologically blessed and perfectly groomed… like always.
He takes a moment to appreciate the more intimate parts of himself. "Beautiful." He nods proudly before looking up and scanning the area.
Before him stood a colossal golden podium, and behind it sat three giant, glowing figures of such immense beauty even Lucien felt a flash of envy fondle his soul.
Two were women. One with golden hair, and eyes like exploding stars. A blinding halo spiralled over her head. Her body was wrapped in a gown made of sunbeams. The other women had cool, silver eyes that glowed like the moon, silver hair that flowed like mercury and a dress made of starlight.
Lucien was already visualizing what they'd be like in bed. Together.
Between them lounged a bearded titan in celestial armour. Raw magical power radiated off him like a morning mist. He glared at Lucien through half-lidded eyes while sipping on a mug labeled Universe's #1 Creator.
"Well... fuck me." Lucien groans, adjusting his groin as he steps forward to face his fate. "I actually died?! Thought I had at least one more sex scandal in me…"