The smell of stale incense and cheap sandalwood was the first thing Arjun Singh registered. It was a smell that belonged to death, debt, and the heavy atmosphere of a house too small for its grief and the horde of opportunistic relatives. He was twenty years old, wearing clothes that felt too heavy, and standing in the humid, oppressive heat of his ancestral home in Patna, Bihar, in the year 2000. Two weeks had passed since the funeral of his father, Professor Anand Singh, the idealistic founder of the unrecognized and deeply indebted institution known as Nalanda University. Arjun, however, was not grieving like a typical twenty-year-old who had lost his father. He was processing a memory load of twenty years ahead of this moment—a complete life lived through the 2000s, 2010s, and 2020s, full of knowledge, regret, and the harsh lessons of the future. He was, quite simply, reborn. His new reality was overwhelming: a failing university, a ₹50 lakh debt, and a pack of vultures circling the property like it was carrion.
The vultures, represented by his uncle, Hari Singh, sat prominently in the living room, fanning themselves dramatically. Hari Singh was a man whose ambition vastly exceeded his business acumen, and he saw the university land—a dusty, single-story building on the outskirts of Patna—as his ticket to building a profitable wedding hall.
"Arjun," Hari Singh began, his tone dripping with false sympathy, "you're a good boy, but you're just a child. Your father, bless his soul, was a dreamer. But dreamers don't pay bills. The bank's lawyer is here."
The lawyer, Mr. Kapoor, a thin man in a starched white shirt, laid a sheaf of documents on the low table. "The promissory notes are clear, Mr. Arjun. Your father borrowed ₹40 lakhs against the land deed to keep the university running. Payments are two months overdue. The bank is ready to seize it next week. And then there are the creditors for the construction materials, the outstanding utility bills… it's a mess, son. A clean sale is the only way out."
"A clean sale," Hari Singh interjected quickly, "would cover the debt, and leave you and your mother with a little bit of cushion. I, as family, will help you manage the sale, of course. For a small fee."
Arjun felt the pressure mounting—the pressure of the year 2000's stagnant economy, the crushing weight of debt, and the complete lack of resources. The previous Arjun would have crumbled, signed the papers, and disappeared into a future of regret. But the reborn Arjun—the one who knew exactly how much that small plot of land would be worth in 2025, and who knew exactly which economic sectors were about to explode globally—refused to yield.
This is where I start. This place, the symbol of Nalanda, the university my father dreamed of—it will be mine.
Just as he reached for the pen, a blinding blue interface snapped into existence right in front of his eyes. Only he could see it.
[Strongest Principal System] Activated!
The holographic text was sharp, clean, and impossibly advanced, a technology out of a science fiction movie, utterly alien in the dusty room.
Initial Assessment:
Host: Arjun Singh (Age 20)
Goal: Establish the world's greatest academic institution, restoring the glory of the name 'Nalanda'.
Current Institution Status: F-Rank (Failing). Debt: ₹50,34,500. Students: 0. Teachers: 0.
Core Functions Initialized:
[100x Feedback]: Any knowledge or skill acquired by the host is processed with 100 times comprehension, efficiency, and retention.
[Aptitude Scanner]: Allows the host to view the potential (F to SS) of students and staff.
[Quests]: Provides objectives for university growth and rewards.
[System Funds]: Currency used for university development and emergency debt repayment.
Welcome Package Issued!
System Funds: ₹10,00,000 (Emergency Start-up Capital)
1x Aptitude Voucher (F-to-D): Can be used on any individual.
1x Skill Mastery Package (Basic Law & Accounting): Instantly grants host high proficiency in the subject.
Arjun felt a surge of cold, analytical data flood his brain. The [100x Feedback] mechanism was instantaneous. He didn't just know basic law and accounting; he knew the subtle loopholes in the promissory note, the obscure tax laws regarding inherited educational trusts, and the exact weaknesses in Hari Singh's flimsy case. His mind, previously foggy with grief, was now a razor-sharp financial instrument.
He pushed the papers away from the lawyer. His voice, steady and authoritative, silenced the room.
"Mr. Kapoor," Arjun said, picking up the promissory note. "Paragraph 4, subsection B. The interest rate is calculated on a daily compounding basis, which is correct. However, this is an inherited educational trust property. According to the 1999 Bihar State Education Trust Act, any loan against such an institution must cap the effective interest rate at 12% if the institution falls within the 'economically disadvantaged zone'—which this area was designated in June."
Kapoor blinked, startled. "That... that law is rarely cited, Mr. Arjun. It's not common knowledge."
"It is to me," Arjun replied coolly. "Furthermore, the loan states that the debt is on the property, not the institution. I will, however, pay the interest for the last two months today to stall the foreclosure."
He accessed the System Funds. [System]: Transferring ₹1,20,000 to the account of United Bank of India.
A few seconds later, his father's old Nokia 3310 vibrated with an SMS alert—a notification of a large incoming transfer, instantly verified by the confused lawyer's phone. The ₹10 lakhs was very real.
"This payment buys me thirty days, Mr. Kapoor," Arjun stated. "The bank will have to re-evaluate the compounding interest based on the 12% cap. That should drastically reduce the overall principal due. Come back in a month."
The lawyer, now deeply unsettled, gathered his documents. He looked from the calm, sharp-eyed Arjun to the fuming Hari Singh, and decided retreat was the best option. "Very well, Mr. Arjun. Thirty days."
Hari Singh was livid. "What is this nonsense, Arjun? You have a few lakhs, and you waste it on paying off a small part of the debt? You should be selling now before the interest eats you alive!"
"Uncle," Arjun said, standing up, his 6-foot frame suddenly seeming to fill the room, "the university is not for sale. Not now, not ever. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find staff and students. My office is closed to unauthorized visitors."
The change was total. The weak, indecisive young man was gone, replaced by a Principal with the cold, hard ambition of a CEO and the intellectual capacity of a seasoned professor. Hari Singh stumbled out, sputtering threats, but the immediate crisis was averted.
Arjun finally allowed himself to breathe, leaning against the wall. The sheer exhaustion of processing twenty years of future knowledge, paired with the instant mastery of complex legal texts, hit him.
[System]: "Initial Crisis Averted. Host demonstrated decisive action and utilized [100x Feedback] effectively."
[System]: "New Quest Issued: [First Step]."
Objective: Recruit 10 students and 1 full-time faculty member within 30 days.
Reward: ₹20,00,000 System Funds, 2x Aptitude Voucher (D-to-C), [University Aura] unlocked (Passive ability: all enrolled students and staff receive minor, daily skill/aptitude boosts).
This is perfect, Arjun thought. The system was giving him the capital and the incentives he needed to rebuild. But he couldn't do it alone.
A moment later, a familiar, sensible voice cut through the silence.
"You know, for a person who just saved a business, you look like you're about to pass out."
It was Shraddha Singh, his father's best friend's daughter. She stood in the doorway, a simple cotton saree draped elegantly, her dark eyes sharp with intelligence and concern. She had been taking care of Arjun's mother during the worst of the funeral.
"Shraddha," Arjun greeted her. He trusted her completely. In his past life, he knew she had gone on to become a highly successful corporate strategist. She had the pragmatic, grounded common sense he lacked.
"What was that, Arjun?" she asked, walking into the room. "I was outside. You looked like you were possessed. You just quoted a minor statute from last year's legislative appendix. The Arjun I knew couldn't find his car keys, let alone a legal loophole."
Arjun knew he couldn't tell her about the System—the rule of keeping his golden finger a secret was implicit. He had to spin a convincing story.
"Losing Baba… it was a wake-up call," he said, letting sincerity infuse his voice. "I sat up for days, reading his old notes, reading the documents. I realized his vision wasn't crazy—it was just undercapitalized and premature. I suddenly saw the patterns, the data. It was like… a download."
Shraddha tilted her head, observing him critically. She saw the calm authority in his posture, the lack of the usual youthful anxiety. "A download, huh? Well, 'The Principal's Inheritance' now has a thirty-day grace period. You've bought time, but you still have a building, no students, and the only professor is a retired history lecturer who's half-blind."
She was right. He needed a pragmatist.
"Shraddha, I need your help," he said, looking her straight in the eye. "I need an Administrator. Someone sharp, organized, and ruthless enough to handle the finances and logistics. My knowledge is in the future and the strategy; your skill is in the now. The salary will be low to start, but if this works, you'll be the Vice-Principal of a global institution."
She was silent for a long minute. She had a safe, low-paying job at a local bank. Stepping into this mess, this debt-ridden dream, was professional suicide. Yet, the look in Arjun's eyes—it wasn't the look of a desperate boy. It was the look of a man who held the blueprint to the future.
"You're mad, Arjun," she finally said, a faint smile touching her lips. "But your madness just saved this place from Hari Uncle. Fine. I quit the bank tomorrow. But you owe me proper books and a working computer. And tell me what Nalanda University is going to specialize in, because 'general studies' is a path to the poor house."
"Computer Science, Data Analytics, and specialized research," Arjun said immediately, using his future knowledge. "And we start with our first student."
"Who is that?"
Arjun smiled, activating the [Aptitude Scanner] and focusing it on Shraddha, purely out of curiosity.
[System]: "Scanning Subject: Shraddha Singh."
Aptitude - Academics (General): B+
Aptitude - Management: A
Aptitude - Loyalty: S
Aptitude - Future Partner: SS (Locked)
Arjun quickly closed the window, ignoring the last, confusing metric. An A-rank Manager with S-rank loyalty. He had the perfect partner.
"Our first student," Arjun repeated, looking past her, out the window at the dusty, quiet courtyard of the failing university, "is a boy named Rajesh. I saw him in the newspaper this morning. He failed his 12th board exams and is being called a complete failure by his community. We're going to find him, and we're going to make him a star."
The [First Step] Quest had begun. Arjun Singh, the new Principal, stood at the threshold of a revolution, clutching a secret system and ten lakhs in seed capital. The old Nalanda was rubble, but the new one was about to be built, brick by brick, with the aid of his golden finger.