PROJECT "CARABAS"

Jacques-Pierre was nobody. A miller's youngest son who inherited not the mill (assets) and not the donkey (transport/logistics), but his father's debts and a ginger cat rumored to be able to open the fridge with his paw.

Jacques sat on a worn sofa in a rented apartment on the outskirts, finishing a cheap beer.

— "So, what am I supposed to do with you?" he asked, looking at the cat. — "Turn you into a hat?" The cat, whose name was Felix, blinked slowly. Then he stood on his hind legs, adjusted a non-existent tie, and, to Jacques' horror, spoke. His voice was velvet, with the rasp of an experienced lobbyist.

— "Turning me into a hat is, monsieur, a one-time solution. Asset depreciation. I propose an investment. Buy me boots."

 — "What?" — Jacques choked.

— "Boots. Italian, handmade. And a good suit. Give me a month and a credit card, and I will make you the king of this city." "Or at least a marquis. Sounds good, eh? Marquis de Carabas." Jacques was stupid, but greedy. He took out a microloan.

STAGE 1. BRAND CREATION (HUNTING RABBITS)

Felix didn't catch mice. He caught insider info. The "rabbits" in his game were petty officials and journalists hungry for an "exclusive". Felix (in an impeccable suit and those very crocodile skin boots) walked into the right offices. He didn't bring bribes in envelopes. He brought information and services.

— "My master, the Marquis de Carabas, asked me to pass you this modest present," he purred, leaving a folder with compromising material on the opposition on the mayor's desk.

— "Who is this Carabas?" asked the mayor, examining the photo. — "Oh, he is a very influential, but modest philanthropist. He prefers to remain in the shadows. For now." The mayor was intrigued. A man who solves problems and asks for nothing in return is a rarity.

STAGE 2. THE SCENE BY THE RIVER (ENTERING THE ELITE)

— "Undress," commanded Felix.

— "Why?" — Jacques shivered in the wind. They were standing by the embankment where the mayor's motorcade was due to pass any minute.

— "You must be naked. Naked, you look defenseless and honest. The people love victims." When the mayor's limousine pulled up alongside them, Felix screamed frantically:

— "Help! My master, the Marquis de Carabas, has been robbed! They stole everything, even his clothes! This is a political hit job!" The mayor recognized the name. He saw a "victim of the regime." A minute later, Jacques was already sitting in the armored limousine, wrapped in a blanket, while the mayor personally promised to deal with the crime. Jacques smiled stupidly. Felix sat nearby, checking stock quotes on a smartphone. The first step was taken: a nobody had gained access to the body.

STAGE 3. THE OGRE (HOSTILE TAKEOVER)

The main obstacle was a local oligarch. He owned fields, factories, newspapers, and steamships. All those lands the motorcade drove past belonged to him. Felix worked with the local workers.

— "Whose fields are these?" asked the mayor's people. — "The Marquis de Carabas's!" answered the bribed unions in unison. Felix headed to the oligarch's headquarters. It was a skyscraper of black glass. The oligarch, a huge man with a bull neck, received the Cat with mockery.

— "I've heard about you, fuzzy." "You make princes out of dirt. But I can crush you. I can turn into a lion — buy the entire city police force."

— "Oh, I don't doubt it," — Felix lit a cigarette, flicking ash onto the Persian rug. — "You are a great man." "Turning into a lion is simple. Brawn over brains. But can you... become small?"

— "What?" — "Inconspicuous. Turn into a mouse. Disappear from tax databases, erase yourself from Interpol lists, go into the shadows when the SWAT team is here tomorrow morning?" The oligarch turned pale.

— "SWAT team?"

— "The Marquis de Carabas has already handed over evidence of your embezzlements to the mayor." "You have five minutes to rewrite assets to the 'Karabas' holding and disappear. Turn into a mouse." "Or you will be put in a cage." The oligarch broke and signed the papers. He "turned into a mouse" — fled through the back door, becoming a nobody.

Felix walked out of the office and dialed Jacques' number.

— "The castle is ours. Come over."

FINALE. KNOWS TOO MUCH

A year passed. Jacques-Pierre, now officially the Marquis de Carabas, sat in a leather chair in the former oligarch's office, drinking vintage cognac. He had married the mayor’s daughter. He was at the top.

Felix entered without knocking. The Cat had aged: his fur had grayed, and weariness appeared in his eyes.

— "We did excellent work, Jacques," said the Cat. — "But it's time to expand. There's an idea regarding the neighboring kingdom..."

Jacques put down his glass and looked at the Cat. Before, he looked at him with admiration. Now — with fear. This beast knew everything. He knew the Marquis was a miller's son. Knew how they deceived the mayor. He knew where the oligarch had disappeared. As long as the Cat was alive, Jacques would never be the true master. He would just be a puppet with a hand up his ass.

— "No, Felix," said the Marquis softly. — "Enough."

— "What do you mean enough?" — the Cat's ears twitched.

— "You are tired. You need rest. Eternal rest." Jacques pressed a button under the table. The doors opened and two sturdy guys from security entered. They were not carrying milk. They were carrying a sack.

— "Jacques?" — Felix backed away. — "What are you doing? I made you! You were nobody!"

— "Exactly," — Jacques stood up. Now he seemed huge, like that very Ogre. 

— "I was nobody. And now I am the Marquis. And Marquises aren't friends with animals that can talk. It's... unnatural."

Felix hissed, tried to jump, but a stun gun strike knocked him down in mid-flight. He was stuffed into the sack.

— "Drown in the river," the Marquis tossed indifferently, examining his nails. — "And find me a dog. A purebred." "And make sure it's mute."

When the guys left with the sack, the Marquis walked to the panoramic window. The city lay at his feet.

— "I made myself," he said to his reflection. And the most terrifying thing was that he sincerely believed it.