The June 1610 dawn painted Surat's beachfront in hues of amber, the Tapti River's gentle lapping a backdrop to the bustling Vora Trading Company complex. Jai Vora stood in the courtyard, the salty breeze ruffling his kurta as he surveyed the progress of the medicine shop, restaurant, and the skeletal frame of the Vora Grand Hotel. His underground labyrinth, fortified by his followers' Strength and their knowledge of cave supports, hummed below—its lab churning out Surat's Elixir, Heart's Guardian, and Pain's Whisper in glass bottles and leaf packets. Today, Jai's vision turned to a new venture: a clothing store to redefine how Surat dressed. The Emperor System, his secret AI-spirit guide, buzzed: "Clothes now, kid? From bombs to breeches, you're rewriting the Mughal playbook."
Jai gathered his followers in the compound, the morning sun glinting off Kofi's forge and the medicine shop's sign. Ravi and Manoj, loyal and quick-witted, stepped forward as Jai addressed them, his nine-year-old frame radiating authority. "You two are running our new clothing store," he said, his Charm weaving confidence. "I've got designs—new, simple, for everyone. We're standardizing sizes: Small, Medium, Large, Extra Large, Double Extra Large—S, M, L, XL, XXL. No more guessing fits. Our tailors will make samples in these sizes, let customers try them to know their size, then buy what fits."
Ravi's eyes widened, scratching his head. "Sizes like that? Jai, that's… new. Surat's tailors measure each man by hand." Manoj nodded, curious. "What clothes, exactly? Kurtas? Dhotis?" Jai's 2025 wit sparked, his grin sly. "More than that. Shirts, pants, jackets—leather ones, too. T-shirts with O-necks, V-necks, collars. Haps for kids, full pants for men. And our specialty—" He unrolled a sketch, revealing a rugged fabric with a diagonal weave. "This is Vora's Durable Thread, strong as armor, tear-resistant, built to last. You can work in it, fight in it, wear it under chainmail. It's dyed blue and white, woven from cotton with a twist—indigo warp, white weft, twill pattern. We'll call it 'durable' to keep it simple."
Manoj traced the sketch, impressed. "This… Thread? It's like nothing I've seen. Tough as leather but soft enough to wear." Ravi leaned in, practical. "We'll need skilled tailors, Jai. Our local weavers can't match this—not yet." Jai nodded, his Wisdom sharp. "I've thought of that. Dhruv's going to Ahmedabad to see Vikram Singh. He'll ask for artisans—tailors who can learn fast, cut precise. And—" Jai produced three small glass bottles, each gleaming with medicine. "Dhruv'll give Vikram these as gifts: Surat's Elixir, Heart's Guardian, Pain's Whisper. A taste of Vora's power."
Dhruv, scar-faced and loyal, stepped forward, his voice steady. "I'll ride today, Jai. Vikram trusts you—he'll send his best. These bottles?" He held one up, its contents shimmering. "They'll make his jaw drop." Jai chuckled. "Tell him they're our secret, Dhruv. For his court allies, maybe, but no recipes. Just a thank-you for his backing." The system pinged: "Gifting meds to Vikram? Smooth, kid. You're tying him closer while snagging tailors. That denim's gonna turn heads."
Ravi hesitated, glancing at the sketch. "This Thread—how do we make it? It's not just cotton." Jai's voice lowered, secretive. "I've Teach you the basics—spinning cotton yarn, dyeing the warp with indigo, weaving a twill pattern. Rigging looms in the shop. You focus on Learning cutting and sewing—S to XXL, every design. Start with samples, let people try them in the store. They'll see their size, feel the fit, and buy." Manoj nodded, excited. "A store where you pick your size? Surat's never seen that. And this Thread—it'll outlast any dhoti."
Jai's eyes glinted, his vision soaring. "The store's not just clothes—it's Vora's mark. Shirts for merchants, jackets for soldiers, haps for kids, pants for workers. Vora's Durable Thread will be our star—strong enough for labor, stylish for nobles. Get the tailors working, Ravi, Manoj. When Dhruv brings artisans, train them fast. The store opens with the medicine shop, and we'll draw every eye in Surat." Ravi grinned, clapping Manoj's shoulder. "We're on it, Jai. This'll be bigger than the restaurant."
As Dhruv prepared to depart, saddlebags packed with medicine bottles, Jai handed him a sealed letter for Vikram. "Tell him we're building an empire, Dhruv. These gifts are just the start." Dhruv bowed, his scar twitching with a smile. "I'll bring back tailors, Jai—and Vikram's loyalty." The system buzzed: "Denim in 1610? You're a time-traveler's dream, kid."
The courtyard hummed as Ravi and Manoj began sketching patterns, their voices alive with plans. Jai stood by the forge, Kofi's hammer ringing, the promise of Vora's Durable Thread weaving a new chapter for his empire, one stitch at a time.