MR Krabs Neighbor. Hello Freind SpongeBob

Bikini Bottom no longer laughs.

A town once teeming with life is now plunged into fear, darkness, and silence. In place of bright signs are rusty lamps flickering in the murky waters.

Once upon a time, this was the Krusty Krab—a restaurant that became a symbol of taste, fun, and greed. But everything had changed. The formula was lost, the customers left, and debts mounted. And the moment the ocean turned its back on its beloved, something broke in Mr. Krabs's heart.

He vanished.

Months turned to years, and only whispers swirled through the town.

They said that Krabs was alive, but no longer human. That his gaze held nothing but the cold glint of coins. That he no longer sought profit—he now sought power. They said a new chain had opened beneath the old restaurant—not a diner, but an underground operation where money was traded like souls.

Where contracts were signed in blood, and customers left never to return.

No one knew how deep he'd sunk.

They said his business now spanned the entire ocean.

Trucks without license plates ply the streets at night, the rhythmic hum of machinery could be heard from basements, and strange symbols appeared on the walls.

The city lived in fear. Fish were disappearing. Houses were empty.

Anyone who spoke his name out loud looked back—as if the sea itself were listening.

Underwater, the darkness was thicker than anywhere else.

Sometimes it seemed alive.

All that remained of the old Krabs was a shadow wandering the corridors of the old restaurant. His office resembled a temple, where safes replaced icons, and the rustling of banknotes replaced prayers. With each passing day, the legend grows. No one saw him grow old. No one heard him laugh. They say he stopped sleeping and breathing, and money became part of his body.

The ocean became a reflection of his soul—cold, heavy, and dead.

At the bottom, among rotten planks and iron containers, he now rules.

Krabs has turned his fear into a weapon, and greed into law.

The city that once fed him is now his entirely.

Bikini Bottom is no longer a city, but a corporation steeped in corruption and death.

Every stone, every pipe, every glimmer of light is part of his system.

He controls everything that moves. Everything that breathes. Everything that can be sold.

Mr. Krabs has become a non-existent ruler, a master without a throne.

His legend is whispered, like a curse. They say that when the water turns red from the sunset, you can hear the clink of coins - this is him counting those who remain alive.