June 1610 swept over Surat like a warm monsoon breeze, the beachfront plot at the city's edge now a hive of ambition. The Vora Trading Company's restaurant, its whitewashed walls aglow under the sun, had become Surat's beating heart, its tables packed with commoners savoring butter chicken and merchants vying for second-floor seats. Silver memberships (5 rupees a year) and gold memberships (15 rupees) sold like monsoon raindrops, each card—engraved with Vora's crest—unlocking discounts and exclusivity that drew nobles and traders alike. The influx of coin fueled Jai Vora's empire, and the nine-year-old prodigy, his mind a crucible of 2025 ingenuity, was on a roll. The Emperor System, his secret AI-spirit guide, crowed in his head: "Memberships flying, coffers filling, and that restaurant's the talk of the coast! You're a legend, Jai, but watch your back—guilds don't sleep, and the EIC's sniffing somewhere out there."
Jai, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, surveyed the bustling construction site from the restaurant's third-floor balcony, the sea's rhythm a backdrop to his plans. The blacksmithing workshop, its foundations laid weeks ago, rose steadily, Kofi's expertise shaping forges that promised unmatched blades. With Lord Vikram Singh's 1000-silver investment and the restaurant's profits, Jai had launched two new projects: a cloth shop for ready-made garments with on-site tailors and a medicine emporium for rare herbs and potions. Two hundred new workers—bringing the total to 500—swarmed the plot, their hammers and chisels singing under Jai's oversight and Anil's public command. Secrecy remained their shield, guarding against guild prying.
Jai, with Sarita and Leela, sifted through the workers, spotting talent like a jeweler finding gems. Sturdy men, their arms corded from labor, were sent to Kofi for blacksmithing, learning to hammer steel into swords and shields. Skilled girls, deft with needles or keen on herb-lore, were trained for the cloth and medicine shops. Sarita, her People Management a beacon, taught inventory and customer charm, while Leela, her Wisdom guiding like a gentle tide, shared herbal knowledge and tailoring finesse. Jai, weaving his modern insights, trained them in efficiency—stock rotation, customer flow—ideas alien to 1610 Surat but instinctive to Vihaan Roy's reborn mind. "Work smart, not just hard," he told a group of girls, their eyes wide as they practiced folding saris with precision. The system pinged: "You're building a machine, Jai! Quest progress: Establish Vora Trading Company, 65% complete. But those sneaky eyes on your site? Trouble's brewing."
The warning proved true. Amid the clatter of construction, Jai noticed shadows that didn't fit—workers who lingered too long near plans, their gazes sharp with intent. One man, lean and furtive, stood out. His name was Keshav, a laborer hired for the medicine shop's frame, but his movements betrayed him. Jai caught him slipping toward the restaurant's kitchen at dusk, his hands hovering near the spice racks where butter chicken's recipe—a guarded secret—lived. Keshav's eyes darted, seeking the blend of tomatoes, chilies, and butter that had captivated Surat. Jai, his instincts honed, whispered to Sarita, "Watch him. He's no worker—he's a spy."
Sarita nodded, her Perception catching Keshav's subtle glances toward the recipe ledger. "Other Merchants, maybe," she murmured. "Or a Jealous rival." Jai's mind raced, his hatred for the EIC a silent ember, though no evidence tied Keshav to them—yet. "Keep him busy," Jai instructed. "Assign him to hauling timber, away from the kitchen. We'll deal with him quietly." Sarita, her loyalty a steel thread, set a trap, tasking Keshav with heavy loads under Ravi's watchful eye, his Strength a deterrent.
Anil, overseeing the site, remained unaware of Jai's "Wings of Freedom" secrets, his suspicions locked behind a merchant's caution. But he noticed the tension, pulling Jai aside under the neem tree. "Beta, the workers are loyal, but I see eyes that don't belong. Your plans—the hotel, the shops—they're drawing attention. We must be careful." Jai nodded, his Charm steady. "We'll root them out, Papa. The restaurant's success buys us time, and the hotel's next. No one will stop Vora Trading Company."