The dawn sun of June 1610 bathed Ahmedabad in a golden haze, its rays glinting off the merchant's rooftop where Jai Vora and his team regrouped, the echo of Kofi's bomb still reverberating from Arjun Mala's estate. Jai, Amir, and Dhruv stood with satchels heavy with looted documents, 1,500 gold coins, and glittering jewelry, their black outfits dust-streaked but triumphant. Maya clutched her sister Mira, one of eight child trainees freed from the basement warren, while Nishil and the three 17-year-old boys—Arjun, Rahil, and Sanjay—guarded the group, their eyes scanning the waking streets. Ravi, Manoj, Sarita, and Sameer, and Kofi, reunited from their rooftop lookout, watched for pursuit. The Emperor System, Jai's secret AI-spirit guide, buzzed: "You've got a small army now, kid. Mala's dead, and you're rich. But those documents? They could draw eyes."
Jai turned to Dhruv, his voice low. "Is it safe to take the kids and assassins to Vikram Singh's haveli?" Dhruv, panther-like and scar-faced, paused, his gaze calculating. "Our mansion has a secret entrance to a basement warren, like Mala's. I'll lead them through there—quiet, hidden. You go meet the master first." Jai nodded, his Wisdom sharp. "No problem. Let's move." The group slipped through Ahmedabad's dawn streets, nearly empty save for early vendors. Their black-clad forms moved like shadows, silent as ghosts, to Vikram's sandstone haveli.
At the haveli's secret entrance—a stone slab concealed beneath a courtyard fountain—Dhruv lifted the slab, revealing a damp tunnel. Maya, holding Mira, whispered, "This place… it's like the warren." Nishil, carrying a 6-year-old boy, nodded. "Safe, for now. Stay close, children." Arjun, Rahil, and Sanjay guided the others, their blades ready but sheathed. Inside, the group changed into simple tunics, shedding their infiltration gear. Jai sent Dhruv to inform Vikram of their return. "Tell him I'm back, if he's awake." Dhruv returned swiftly, his voice steady. "Master's up, Jai. He's waiting for you in the garden for breakfast."
In the haveli's lush garden, jasmine vines draped over marble benches, and a table groaned with chai, parathas, and mango slices. Vikram Singh, broad and beaming, clasped Jai's shoulders. "Jai, you rogue! I trusted you'd come back safe, and here you are, with a blast that woke half Ahmedabad!" He laughed, eyes glinting with mischief. "I couldn't sleep a wink, waiting for news. Tell me, how'd it go?"
Jai's wit sparkled as he grinned. "Smooth as silk. Mala's dead—my blade, his chest. We rescued eight children, including Maya's sister, Mira. And we recruited five assassins: Nishil, the teacher; Maya, the girl; and three boys—Arjun, Rahil, Sanjay. Plus, we hit the jackpot." He opened a satchel, spilling gold coins, jewels, and scrolls onto the table. "Fifteen hundred coins, jewelry, and documents. If you'll allow, Vikram, I want to thank you. Take half the loot—your help made this possible."
Vikram's eyes widened, but he waved off the coins and jewels. "Keep your gold, Jai. These documents? They're worth more than any treasure. Trade ledgers, letters—they'll raise my standing in the Mughal court, pull more nobles to my side." Jai leaned in, voice conspiratorial. "If my backer rises, I rise. And you're my backer, so take the documents." Both laughed, a shared spark of ambition. Jai's system pinged: "Smart move, kid. Those papers are power—Vikram's your key to the court."
Jai pushed the jewelry forward. "Can you exchange these for coins? I need liquid wealth for Vora Trading Company." Vikram grinned, summoning a servant. "Done. My jeweler says this lot's worth 700 coins." He handed Jai a purse, bringing his total to 2,300 coins. "You're richer than half the local nobles now, Jai!" Vikram teased, sipping chai. Jai's eyes glinted. "Not enough. I'm building an empire to dwarf the Country. Speaking of them—can you keep your ear to the court? If the British or Mala's allies stir, I need to know."
Vikram nodded, his tone serious. "I'll report anything—British, nobles, rumors. Today's court will be chaos with Mala's death. You've stirred a hornet's nest." Jai leaned closer, voice low. "One more favor. I'm telling my father these kids and assassins are your people—guards and trainees you lent me. Nishil's their teacher, Maya and the boys are guards, and the eight kids are their wards. That fine?" Vikram clapped his shoulder. "No problem. And take Dhruv with you. He's taken a liking to you, and he's my most trusted. Send him with sensitive messages—he'll move fast."
Jai's face lit up. "Dhruv's a gem. I trust him." Dhruv, nearby, bowed slightly, his scar twitching with pride. "I'm yours, Jai. Vikram's orders." The system buzzed: "Dhruv's a keeper, kid. Loyal, fast, and sharp. Your crew's growing."
Vikram raised his cup. "Rest today, Jai. Don't leave tomorrow—court's hectic, and I'll need you here to plan our next move. Mala's allies won't sit quiet." Jai nodded, glancing at the children eating with Maya and Nishil. "Agreed. We rest, then we build."