Before a ball has been kicked, the Papua New Guinea franchise has made its mark on the NRL in a whirlwind of exciting signings and bilateral security agreements.

But it’s not just recruitment and soft power where it’s ahead of schedule, the Chiefs have also made headway where it’s least expected: as public enemy No.1.

When unveiled as the competition’s 19th licence, the PNG project was met with the same mix of goodwill and skepticism the Russians must’ve felt when they first launched a terrier in to space.

How far away is it? Will they come back? And what’s the WiFi like up there?

But despite the questions, we agreed that if this bold concept was to get off the ground, a PNG side was bound to be everyone’s second favourite team.

Not only out of empathy because of its own logistical challenges, but because giving them a cheer was the least we could do considering they were shielding us from China.

But if early developments are any indication, the only thing we’ll need shielding from is the Chiefs franchise itself.

In only a handful of months, the PNG franchise has done enough to earn a Death Star status in the game that took clubs like the Roosters and Storm decades of relentless success and chokeholds to earn.

While being backed by two governments and $645m of taxpayer funds was fairly anti-populist from the get-go, the rugby league public accepted the financial reality of bankrolling a team in an underdeveloped nation and thickening up our posse in case of communist aggression.

But while it’s one thing to foot the bill, it’s another to splash our tax dollars on two blokes as popular as a mouthful of soap.

Signings for the Chiefs like Alex Johnston and Connor Watson are two of the game’s most beloved guys, but with all due respect, Jarome Luai and Zac Lomax are not.

Unveiled as the Chiefs latest signature this week, nobody doubts Lomax’s CV for offering profile and X-factor, but he can also break a game as effortlessly as a contract.

As for Luai, it’s more a case these days of who he hasn’t rubbed the wrong way rather than the opposite.

In fact, he will arrive in Port Moresby in 2028 on the back of a year embellishing his brand by collecting three wages from two battling clubs and one that’s yet to kick off.

Despite declaring he was ‘Team First’ at the Tigers, Luai will not only be earning a huge wedge from his PNG third-party deal with Pepsi, he’ll also collect a wage from his gap year at Parramatta and the reported $500k the Tigers are paying him to go away.

Both hardly strengthen the Chiefs brand for affable pluckiness- but this is only the thin edge of the franchise’s villainy.

Thanks to a generous tax deal - aka the players paying none - PNG jeopardises any chance at battler status with a throbbing war chest.

In fact, its cash clout is so meaty it’s already scrambling the game’s financial compass and killing the Perth Bears so rapidly they should be renamed the PNG Northern Eagles.

Back in the good old days when the Chiefs were but a harmless bill in the senate, the parameters of the NRL’s financial ecosystem were clear:

The good players go to Melbourne for less, lesser players go to the Tigers for more, nobody went to Canberra for anything, and so on and so forth.

But once the new licence opened its recruitment drive by casually landing a four-time premier and the game’s greatest tryscorer, everything we knew was blown apart.

With struggling outfits like the Dragons already tabling inflated offers just to get a call back and the Bears battling to lure a big fish, the evil Chiefs offering the fattest deal on the table means they’ll either get the scant remains or force these malnourished rivals to pony-up dangerously inflated offers just to match their heft.

And with the franchise in talks with Cameron Munster and eyeing off a gaggle of Panthers seeking a final payday - that including Nathan Cleary and his partner of PNG heritage in Mary Fowler - who knows how bloated the Chiefs power will become.

In short, PNG will face unprecedented circumstances to make hay, but it’s already displaying the hallmarks of a classic NRL villain.

They pay their players double like Melbourne once did (except legally), boost players asking prices as a shadow gazumping threat like the Roosters, and with a former journalist as general manager in Michael Chammas, they’ll probably control the narrative like the Broncos too.

And with the licence largely answerable to nobody except the defence cabinet, soon we’ll be wishing it was granted to something less evil like a team in Moscow captained by John Hopoate.