📖 Chapter 24 – The Fire in the Night
The hostel was quiet, the city outside humming with the restless sounds of Mumbai—horns, trains, the faint bark of stray dogs. Raj sat by the window, staring at the glowing panel that still shimmered faintly in his vision.
[Alert: Physical Sabotage Risk Rising.]
The words gnawed at him. Shankar's smear campaign had been crushed, but men like him never stopped at words. Raj knew the taste of betrayal, of destruction. In his past life, he had seen entire livelihoods burned to ash by jealousy. He clenched his fists. Not this time. I will be ready.
At the station stall, the day had gone well—sales were strong, the trust banner had drawn new signatures, and customers left with smiles. Yet unease lingered. Raj noticed the way Rohit avoided his eyes, how he snapped at Imran, how he moved through the crowd with simmering resentment. And he noticed, too, the shadow at the edge of the platform—Shankar watching, always watching.
That night, after the stalls were wheeled back and the team retired, Raj remained restless. He tried to sleep, but a flicker of light outside drew him to the window. His blood ran cold. The glow wasn't lantern light—it was fire.
Raj bolted upright. Smoke curled from the direction of the storage shed near the hostel, where they kept extra supplies—flour, oil, sugar, and the precious ingredients for the next day's menu. Flames licked upward, crackling hungrily as the fire spread.
"Arjun! Imran! Meena!" Raj's voice cut through the night as he rushed outside. His team scrambled awake, eyes wide with terror. Buckets were filled, water flung desperately against the blaze, but the flames roared back, fed by oil-soaked sacks. Neighbors shouted, forming a chain to pass water, but the fire seemed too fierce, too sudden—too intentional.
Through the chaos, Raj glimpsed a figure retreating into the shadows. The gait, the tilt of the head—there was no mistaking it. Shankar.
Rage surged through him, hot as the fire itself, but Raj forced his mind into clarity. "We save the supplies first!" he barked. Arjun dashed into the smoke to drag out crates, coughing violently but refusing to stop. Meena pulled sacks of flour to safety, her sari singed at the edges. Imran, tears streaking his soot-stained face, carried small boxes in trembling arms. Even Rohit, caught between fear and pride, joined the effort, hauling heavy bags with surprising strength.
At last, after what felt like hours but was only minutes, the fire was beaten back. The shed was charred, supplies half-destroyed, but the core stock survived. The neighbors murmured in relief, patting Raj on the back for his courage. Yet Raj's face was grim. This was no accident. It was war.
The system pulsed:
[Sabotage Attempt Detected: Arson.]
Losses: 30% Stock. Reputation Stable (Community Support +10).
Countermeasure Available: Security Upgrade.
Raj exhaled, his body trembling with fury and exhaustion. He looked at his team—faces blackened with soot, clothes torn, but eyes burning with loyalty. Even Rohit, though silent, had not abandoned them. For now, at least, he had chosen to stand with the family.
As dawn broke, Raj stood before the smoldering ruins, his heart hardening like tempered steel. "He wants to destroy us," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Then we'll rise stronger from the ashes."
And in the shadows of a distant alley, Shankar spat into the dirt, his face twisted with rage. "Let him rise. The higher he climbs, the sweeter it will be to burn him again."
The golden panel shimmered one final time that morning, its words sharp and clear:
[New Mission: Fortify the Empire.]
Build defenses. Protect your brand. Ensure survival.
Raj's jaw tightened. "Then let the fortress be built."