“YOU DID WHAT?” screamed Gary.

  “What would you have me do? Back down?” Greg spluttered. “We can’t avoid high-stakes duels forever!”

  “WE COULD HAVE HELD OFF ON A HIGH-STAKES DUEL FOR LONGER THAN ONE FUCKING DAY! WE HAVEN’T EVEN LAUNCHED YET!”

  “I beat Rogan, didn’t I? And we can beat Thorne Oceanic too.”

  “This isn’t a drunken wrestling match. You’re talking about outselling an empire.”

  “And what happens if we can’t?” asked Gideon.

  “He gets Fish Direct?,” said Greg, “and I think maybe… to end our lives? There was a contract, but like… who even reads those?”

  “I’LL TELL YOU WHO FUCKING READS THEM! PEOPLE WHO ARE ABOUT TO GAMBLE THEIR LIVES ON AN INSANELY STUPID BET! I’m tempted to kill you myself—save Thorne the trouble.”

  “Try it!” roared Greg. “See what happens!”

  “We’re already in a high-stakes duel,” said Gideon. “Can we please not start another one?”

  “Two high-stakes duels is probably overkill,” said Gorbachev. “You wouldn’t put a hat on a hat.”

  “Fine,” said Gary, who really wasn’t. He was pacing like a maniac. “We need to scale up yesterday,” he muttered. “Move fast and break things!”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  At this stage, the thing most likely to be broken was Gary’s brain. How were they gonna do this? They’d need aggressive marketing, more locations, they’d probably need to go global.

  “Thorne may have the jump on us,” said Gary, trying his motivational best. “He has the boats, the money, the infrastructure. But what we have is… is… FUCK!”

  “What we have is total control of the ocean!” said Greg.

  “Then we have to use it!” declared Gary. “What if we move every fish in the sea—all at once? We could ferry them to a safe location.”

  “There are, uh… a few… minor limitations,” Gideon admitted.

  “Such as? SUCH AS?”

  “The 100-school rule.”

  “The 100-school rule?”

  “You wanna take this Greg?” asked Gideon.

  “The 100-school rule is a travesty!” Greg bellowed. “A nonsensical, arbitrary and entirely unbreakable decree! A madman’s attempt to curb our power for reasons only an author could understand. If you ask me, the 100-school rule… is total bullshit.”

  “Right,” said Gary. “But what does it mean?”

  “What it means is that each fishman may only control a number up to, and not exceeding, 100 schools of fish. I know—it’s ridiculous, but what are you gonna do?”

  “You could try not over-hyping your powers! We need to be realistic.”

  Being realistic didn’t come naturally to fishmen—so any hope for realism hinged exclusively on Gary.

  “How many hours a day can you spend summoning fish?” he asked.

  Gorbachev shrugged. They’d never been on the clock before.

  “What do you think?” said Gideon. “I mean, what’s reasonable?”

  “We could start you off on a 161-hour work week,” said Gary. “That leaves you at least an hour a day for sleeping—but you and I both know…” his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “that sleep is for the weak.”

  “Why not make it 162 hours?” said Greg, proving once and for all how mighty / predictable he was.

  “Perfect,” said Gary, swooping in for a firm, visionary handshake to seal the deal. “And we need a marketing team and fast. Got any leads?”

  “You do remember we’re fishmen.”

  “I’ll look online,” said Gary reaching for his phone.

  One frantic Google search later, salvation appeared. A classy marketing firm that guaranteed results. The name? Synergy & Sons.