“I’ve ironed out the defects, absolutely,” Dr. Crygor said as he chatted with Gomboss Jr. on the phone. “Yes, of course I can give you a sample unit. But you’ve got to act fast if you want a full order. My next batch is going to sell out by the end of the week.”

Yes, so maybe Dr. Crygor’s machines and robots lifted from Smithy Gang’s extra-dimensional factories had not been fully tested in combat, and maybe they had resulted in the death of one of the Grand Unity Army’s Generals and hadn’t accomplished much beyond the first wave of the attack. It didn’t matter though, because that was all a practice run, a demo to show off Crygor’s new research & development division, staffed solely by himself and his grandchild (but buyers didn’t need to know about that just now). The version two models for all these robots had gone much more smoothly in production; Crygor had even recreated the famous Axem Rangers that had been destroyed by Mario and his allies all those years ago!

Naturally, every country was investing in his product. And now that there were many dozen more countries than there were just a few years earlier, that meant business was absolutely booming.

Crygor stepped aside and allowed his robot Mike to take over for the rest of the phone calls of the day. He was very good at customer service, as robots were able to listen to angry rants without feeling any emotional connection because that was their nature, rather than having to be psychologically desensitized to it like poor organic beings.

He entered the break room to grab a Koopa Tea from his own vending machine, and noticed his grandchild reading a book with two shirtless men on the cover standing back to back and holding hands. Inspired by Bowsette’s grandstand against her biological father and growing reputation as a heroic legend, Penny had told Crygor to start calling them by the name Penn, and was wearing more loose clothing as they tried to figure out their own feelings on their identity. Crygor was glad that they were working this out, even if it likely hurt their dreams of becoming a pop star one day.

But Penn had a new dream, it seemed-- to use technology to create the ultimate combat suit, and to become a famous martial artist using the machinery. Crygor thought his own dream of making a lot of money and inventing new things was fine, and a path that his grandchild would be well-suited for. But he believed in his grandchild as much as he could.

Aside from Penn, though, Crygor’s life was on the up and up in almost every respect. After over a hundred years of life, he had finally begun to have a real success.

He ventured out into the test factory, where prototype models of his robot soldiers were being built.

It was glorious...

The voice inside his head gave a hearty laugh. “You’re doing excellently. You’re doing exactly what I wish.”

“Of course,” Dr. Crygor said aloud. “The Smithy Gang must rise again, and this is the way to achieve that.”

“Together, we’re accomplishing the impossible,” the voice said.

“Yes. Just you and me. Rather... just me and me.”

Dr. Crygor laughed.