Arjun's eyelids snapped open way before the sun even thought about coming up. Mumbai outside looked like it'd been smothered in an old gray blanket—just haze, not a soul stirring. The smell of incense floated over from his mom's room. She was in there, praying again, voice so frail it barely made it past her coughing fits. Arjun pressed his palm against the wall between them, like maybe he could squeeze some of her pain into himself. Pointless, honestly, but he couldn't help it.
Letting her fade away while leeches like Khanna got fat off stolen meds? Not happening. Not on his watch.
That System interface just hovered in his vision, blinking like it was tapping its foot.
Directive: Opportunity detected. Suggested action: Secure alternate supplier channel. Risk level: Moderate.
Alternate supplier. The words echoed. Up to now, he'd been slyly rerouting Khanna's shipments, slipping them to Riya's dad's pharmacy. It worked, but not forever. Khanna was tightening the noose, watching every move. Arjun needed a backup. Something off-grid. Out of Khanna's greedy reach.
"System," he whispered, barely moving his lips, "show me options."
A digital Mumbai lit up in his mind—red hotspots pulsing where people were desperate. The dockyards glared red, same with the industrial godowns in Bhiwandi. Then, outta nowhere, a tiny green pin started blinking in the middle of Dharavi's maze.
Lead: Independent distributor. Untapped by Khanna. Current inventory: Antibiotics, painkillers. Potential profit margin: 89%.
For a second, Arjun's heart nearly stopped. Dharavi. The city's underbelly. Sure, it was risky, but that's where Khanna's reach fizzled out.
By lunchtime, Arjun was weaving through Dharavi's alleys. The roofs nearly met over his head, the whole place stuffed with the stink of leather, dyes, and that smoky tang that never left. Kids zipped past, laughing and yelling, like the maze belonged to them.
The shop was barely a blip—faded sign, shelves groaning under dusty cartons of generic meds. The man behind the counter looked tough as old boot leather, a scar running down his cheek, eyes sharp and suspicious.
"You're not here for cough syrup," the guy grunted, not even a hint of welcome.
Arjun tried to play it cool and smiled. "Heard you move stock others can't."
The man leaned back, giving Arjun the full scan. "Who sent you?"
"No one," Arjun answered, straight up. "I just need steady supply. Regular, clean. No middlemen bleeding me dry. I pay on time."
Scarface let out a low chuckle, not mean but not friendly either. "Everyone wants that, kid. What makes you different?"
Arjun hesitated, then let that Negotiation Aura thing the System gave him flow into his words. He kept his voice steady, eyes locked. "I don't mess around. Give me a shot and I'll move your stock faster than anyone else. Not asking for trust. Just one deal. Let me show you."
The guy stared him down, eyes narrowing, silence stretching out till it was almost awkward. Finally, he cracked a lopsided grin. "You've got a tongue on you. Fine. One trial run. Ten boxes. Cash only."
Relief flooded Arjun, but he kept his face cool as ice. "Done."
He lugged the cartons out into the sunlight, sweat running down his back. His phone buzzed—Riya, of course.
"Where are you?" She sounded worried, which, honestly, was kind of sweet.
"Working," he answered, trying to keep it vague.
"You sound like you're about to do something reckless," she shot back. Couldn't get anything past her.
Arjun almost laughed. "Not reckless. Just… necessary."
She sighed, that kind of tired, frustrated sigh that said she cared more than she'd ever admit. "Just… don't vanish on me, okay?"
"I won't," he promised, but honestly? Who knew.
That evening, Arjun rocked up to the pharmacy, cartons in hand. Riya's dad peered over his glasses, eyes going wide.
"Beta, where did you get these? We haven't seen this much stock in weeks."
"Don't worry about it, uncle," Arjun said, giving him a gentle smile. "Sell them fairly. Families need them."
The old man hesitated, then nodded, relief and gratitude softening his face. "You're doing good work, Arjun. Not many your age care about anyone but themselves."
Riya stood behind the counter, arms folded, watching him like she was trying to read his mind. She didn't push, but the silence between them was thick. She saw how tired he was, the new set to his jaw, but left it alone—for now.
Next day, back at Khanna's. The guy was on the warpath, prowling the place like a caged tiger. His gold chain swung with every shout, tearing through shipment records like they'd wronged him personally. Arjun stuck to the shadows, delivering parcels with his usual tired act. All the while, the System was busy feeding him intel, flagging every blind spot Khanna missed.
Alert: Khanna increasing scrutiny. Probability of exposure: 41%. Recommendation: Expand faster before blockade.
Expand faster, huh? It was nuts, but honestly, probably the only way. If Khanna locked one door, Arjun needed to have two more open. If Khanna jacked up prices, Arjun had to undercut him first.
That's when it clicked—this wasn't just about Khanna. Khanna was just a cog in the machine. If Arjun really wanted to make a difference, he'd have to move faster, climb higher, outwit the whole system before it chewed him up.
Later that night, hunched over his desk, scribbling numbers by a weak bulb, his mom's cough echoed through the walls again. He closed his eyes, jaw clenched.
The System pulsed, glowing in his vision.
Progress Path Chosen: Economic Leverage. Next Milestone: Establish Independent Distribution Line. Reward: Skill Upgrade—Negotiation Aura Lv.2.
A shiver ran down his spine. This was all moving fast, maybe too fast. But there was no backing out now.
And Arjun Mehra, who used to be just some ordinary kid, well—he was in it now. No turning back. And honestly? A tiny part of him was ready for whatever came next.