Khanna's office, honestly, was the kind of place you could sniff out with your eyes closed. The air in there was basically a crime scene—old cigarette smoke mashed together with that knockoff cologne he thought made him smell rich. Khanna himself? He was hunched over his battered desk, gold chain flashing in the ugly yellow light, fingers hammering a nervous rhythm into the splintered wood. Dude looked wrecked—bloodshot eyes racing across the ledger like he was chasing numbers that refused to stay put.
"Impossible," he muttered, flipping pages back and forth, as if the answer might jump out if he just annoyed the paper enough. "The order was sealed. How the hell did it shrink?"
Out by the loading bay, delivery boys zipped around like they were auditioning for a nature documentary—everyone desperate to avoid making eye contact with the boss. You could practically taste the tension. Word gets around quick, and everyone knew Khanna's fuse was basically nonexistent. If numbers were off, someone was gonna catch hell, no doubt about it.
"Ramesh!" Khanna's bark could've cracked glass.
Poor Ramesh nearly tripped over his own shoes, clutching his clipboard like it could somehow protect him. "Ji, Khanna saab?"
Khanna didn't even blink—he just lobbed the ledger right at Ramesh's chest. Thud. "Three boxes missing. Three! You think I'm stupid? Where are they?"
Ramesh stuttered, cheeks going pale. "M-Maybe at the warehouse, saab? Or…maybe a counting mistake?"
Khanna leaned in, practically breathing fire. "Counting mistake? You think I'll buy that? If anyone's skimming, I'll cut their hands off myself. You got that?"
Ramesh nodded so hard you'd think his head was about to detach. He backed out of there like a scared puppy.
Khanna slumped in his chair, fists clenched. He knew—deep down, he knew—somebody was bleeding him. And if he didn't figure it out quick? The guys above him would make him regret it. That's just how the food chain worked.
---
Night falls, and up on the roof, Arjun sits with his knees hugged to his chest, Mumbai's chaos stretching out in every direction. Neon lights blink in the haze, and somewhere below, the city honks and shouts itself hoarse. The System's weird little interface floats in front of his palm, all ice-cold logic.
Current Standing: Trial Run Success. Profit Gained: +₹4,800. Reputation Gain: Local. Risk Level: Rising.
Rising risk. No kidding, right? Arjun breathes out slow. Sooner or later, Khanna's gonna figure it out. He has to. But after what Arjun's seen—the gratitude on those faces, the way even Riya's dad finally stopped looking at him like a lost cause—there's no chance he's quitting now.
"System," he whispers, "how long before Khanna notices?"
Estimation: Detection probability – 67% within one week. Countermeasures required.
A week. That's what he's got. Just seven days to get his ducks in a row before all hell breaks loose.
---
Next morning at the hub, the tension is so thick you could bite it. Boys huddle in corners, voices low, shooting nervous looks at Khanna's door.
"Three boxes, gone, just like that…" one guy mutters.
"They're gonna blame us, watch," another whispers.
"Keep your head down, man. Khanna saab doesn't mess around."
Door slams open—boom. Khanna storms out, eyes sweeping the room like he's hunting for his next meal. His gold chain bumps against his chest as he bellows, "Everyone, line up!"
Nobody argues. Arjun slips into the line, face totally blank, but his senses are dialed up to eleven. He's gotten good at this—being invisible while soaking up every word.
Khanna paces, eyes narrowed to slits. "Listen up. Someone's stealing. Medicines don't just walk away. If I catch the rat, I'll skin him alive."
The room goes dead silent. You could hear a pin drop—or maybe someone's heartbeat.
Khanna's gaze lands on Arjun, heavy and hot. Arjun doesn't flinch. He lets his new System skill—Negotiation Aura—do the work, smoothing out his nerves, making him look bored, maybe even a little sleepy.
Khanna sneers and moves on.
"Back to work!" he growls, stomping away.
The boys scatter in every direction, like pigeons after a firecracker. Arjun lets out a breath, heart racing. One wrong move and he'd be toast. For now, though? He's in the clear.
---
Later that evening, Arjun's at the pharmacy, sliding a box across the counter. Riya leans in, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked.
"You're playing with fire," she says, voice soft but serious.
Arjun just grins, tired and stubborn. "Fire's the only thing that gets rid of weeds."
She shakes her head, frustration flashing in her eyes. "Khanna's not stupid. If he catches you—"
"He won't," Arjun interrupts, jaw set. "I'm not letting that happen."
She looks at him for a long second, her face softening a little. "Just… don't end up somewhere I can't follow, okay?"
That sticks with him. Long after he's gone, her words are still bouncing around in his head.
---
That night, Khanna's back in his cave, swirling a glass of whiskey that's more water than spirit, phone buzzing on the desk.
A gravelly voice comes down the line. "Heard you lost some stock."
Khanna stiffens, grip tight on the glass. "It's nothing. A mistake."
The voice laughs, cold as a lizard. "No mistakes in this business, Khanna. Fix it. Fast. Or you're the one getting replaced."
Click. That's it. No goodbyes.
Khanna just sits there, sweat prickling on his neck. Whoever's behind this mess? Yeah, they just signed their own death warrant.
---
Somewhere else in the city, fan buzzing lazily overhead, Arjun's staring at the System's glow.
Warning: Enemy Alertness Increasing. Next Phase Approaches.
He gets it—Khanna's got his radar on. Next round's coming, and it's not gonna be a friendly one. But hey, that's the game, isn't it? And Arjun's already too deep to start running now.