The June 1610 dawn bathed Surat's beachfront in a golden sheen, the Tapti River's ripples catching the light as Jai Vora stood in the underground labyrinth beneath Vora Trading Company's growing complex. The network of caves, carved by his followers' Strength and bolstered by their knowledge of wooden braces and stone supports, hummed with potential. Rooms stored clothes and weapons for "Wings of Freedom" missions, empty cells awaited foes, and living quarters housed guards. A new chamber, its clay walls lined with fermentation tanks and crude shelves, served as Jai's secret lab. Here, his 2025 knowledge birthed three medicines: penicillin ("Surat's Elixir") from Penicillium mold fermented with sugar and local grains, statins ("Heart's Guardian") from fungi to strengthen blood, and aspirin ("Pain's Whisper") from boiled willow bark for pain and fever. The Emperor System, his AI-spirit guide, buzzed: "You're brewing miracles down here, kid. Keep that 'beggar' story tight—nobody needs to know you're the alchemist."
Jai grinned, sealing vials of powdered medicines. "Don't worry, system. I've got a tale to sell." He'd crafted a story to mask his modern ingenuity: a chance encounter in Ahmedabad with a frail beggar who gifted him a book of ancient recipes. The book, written in Jai's hand to look weathered, detailed his creations without revealing their true methods—fermentation, filtration, purification. He summoned Leela to the medicine shop's back room, a curtained space hiding the lab's entrance, its air thick with the scent of herbs and sea salt.
Leela arrived, her sari swaying, her Wisdom glowing in her gentle eyes. "Jai, beta, what's this urgency?" she asked, brushing flour from her hands. Jai hugged her, his Charm weaving sincerity. "Amma, in Ahmedabad, I met a beggar—weak, half-starved, barely able to stand. I gave him some bread, and he looked at me, strange-like, said he was an ancient mystic. Sounded like a fool, muttering about hidden knowledge, but he pressed this into my hand." He produced the book, its pages deliberately aged with tea stains. "Recipes, Amma. Medicines from forgotten times."
Leela's brow furrowed, flipping through the inked pages. "A beggar? Mystic? Jai, this sounds like a tale from the bazaar." Jai's voice steadied, his 2025 wit cloaked in earnestness. "I thought so too, but I tried the recipes—tested them on our guards. They work, Amma. This one—" he held up a vial of Surat's Elixir, "cures festering wounds, fevers. A pinch in water, twice daily. This, Heart's Guardian, eases chest pains, strengthens the blood—one spoonful with milk. And Willow's Whisper, for aches and fevers—a dose in tea. I tested them small, no side effects."
Leela's eyes widened, tracing the vials. "These could heal so many… but secret? How did you make them?" Jai shook his head, his tone firm. "The recipes stay with me, Amma. The mystic swore me to silence. We sell these in our medicine shop—exclusive, alongside common herbs. They'll set us apart from every apothecary in Surat." He handed her the samples. "Test them first, small doses, on people you trust—servants, maybe. Make sure they're safe before the shop opens. Then, give free samples to draw crowds. These are our edge."
Leela clutched the vials, her voice soft with pride. "You're a wonder, beta. These could save lives—change Vora's name forever." She paused, concern flickering. "But secrets like this… will attract attention, maybe even the British, will come asking." Jai's eyes glinted, his hatred for the EIC a quiet fire. "Let them try, Amma. Our lab's hidden, our guards are ready. Test these, and we'll make miracles." The system pinged: "Smooth, kid. Leela's hooked, and those meds are your trump card. Just don't let the EIC sniff out that lab."
Leela hugged him, vials in hand. "I'll start today, small tests. If these work, Jai, our shop will be a beacon." She smiled, her Wisdom alight. "Your beggar must've seen your heart." Jai chuckled, the lie seamless. "Maybe, Amma. Let's make it happen."