"So what's the next step?" Raja asked, voice low.
Everyone turned instinctively toward Veer.
He wasn't even looking at them.
He sat on the floor with the AK-47 across his lap, tapping the stock against his shoulder, sighting down the barrel like a child playing soldier. It was unreal — a kid handling a weapon that could tear a man apart, acting like it was a video-game rifle.
For a moment, everyone silently wondered the same thing:
Why are we following him?
Then Veer answered without glancing up, aiming the gun toward an empty corner as if taking an imaginary shot.
"Everything from here needs to be done by Radhe," he said calmly. "Raja and Jatin need to disappear for a while. Go underground. Gani Bhai's men will tear through Mumbai looking for clues. And eventually, they'll discover the police got involved in taking the trucks."
Radhe stiffened.
"Hold on. My men were careful. No one from the department is going to—"
Veer cut him off, finally lifting his eyes.
"There are always people who talk," he said. "Some for fear… some for money."
He stared straight at Radhe, and Radhe suddenly understood.
Not "some people."
People in the police force. His force.
And Radhe didn't know which ones.
A cold realization settled in his stomach.
Veer stood and slung the AK-47 over his shoulder.
"Radhe, you need to earn Gani Bhai's trust. Give him subtle clues. Make them think you're helping them track the trucks. Get into their inner circle. That's our deal — and that's your part."
Radhe exhaled slowly, then nodded.
"Fine. I'll do it."
Raja looked at Dilip, tied and gagged, bruised to hell.
"What about him?"
Veer smirked slightly. "We wrap him up and send him to Arjun. As a gesture of goodwill. What do you think, Radhe?"
Radhe walked over, studying Dilip's trembling, gagged face. Dilip tried to shout through the tape, his voice muffled and pathetic.
Radhe didn't flinch.
"I'll decide what to do with him," Radhe said quietly. "But one thing's clear…"
He looked down at the broken gangster who had terrorized half the city.
"…Dilip doesn't see daylight again."
Dilip's muffled scream echoed through the warehouse.
...............
The next morning, Veer walked through the school gates like nothing had happened the night before.
No gunfire.
No riots.
No kidnapping.
Just another school day.
His friends pounced on him immediately.
"Bro! Math test postponed!"
"Did you finish the chemistry notes?"
Veer laughed, joked around, bumped shoulders — completely normal.
No one could guess that just hours ago, he was dodging bullets and kicking gangsters in the ribs.
He blended in so perfectly it was almost scary.
Cafeteria
Veer sat with his friends, arguing over who would steal whose fries, when Suhana approached the table.
Her smile was small, eyes soft, nervous.
"Veer… can we talk? Alone?"
His friends burst into teasing whistles.
"Oh hooo!"
Veer glared. "Shut up, idiots."
They slipped to a quiet corner of the cafeteria. Suhana fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his gaze.
"So… my father's birthday is coming," she began, voice low. "And Aryan is telling everyone about that stupid grand party." She rolled her eyes. "Half the school is talking about it. It's so embarrassing."
Veer smirked. "Because Aryan is showing off again?"
"Yes!" she groaned. "He's bragging about the venue, the guest list. He even told the girls, 'You'll see what a real rich family looks like.'"
Veer chuckled. "Typical Aryan."
But she didn't laugh. She bit her lip.
"I'm nervous, Veer… about you meeting my parents. My dad is… intimidating. And the party will be huge."
Veer leaned forward, his voice calm and warm.
"Hey. Relax. I'll be fine. And your parents will like me. Anyone who likes you will like me."
Suhana's cheeks flushed.
"You talk big, but you'll be shaking in your shoes."
Veer grinned. "Maybe. But I'll survive."
For the first time that morning, she smiled genuinely.
Martial Arts Club – After School
The dojo smelled of mats, sweat, and childhood memories. Veer bowed as he entered, expecting to start warm-up drills.
But Mr. Rao stood waiting, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"Veer," he said quietly. "You've learned everything I can teach."
Veer froze.
"…Sir? Did I do something wrong?"
Rao's expression softened.
"No. Not at all. You're talented. Disciplined. You train harder than boys twice your age."
He sighed. "But you don't need to come here anymore."
Veer's chest tightened.
"But sir— I want to learn more. Tougher training. More advanced techniques. Even… even deadly ones."
His voice cracked slightly. "Teach me that."
Mr. Rao's face changed instantly — cold, stern, final.
"No."
Veer flinched.
Rao stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Veer's shoulder.
"You think I don't see it? The hunger to get stronger? To fight?"
His voice dropped. "I've seen what that hunger becomes. War breaks men, Veer. Even strong ones."
Veer blinked. He had heard whispers before — older kids talking about how Rao had fought in real operations, real violence, real darkness.
Rao continued, voice tired.
"That's why I teach kids. And only self-defense. I will not create another fighter who goes out looking for blood."
Veer lowered his eyes.
"…I don't want blood. I just… want to be ready."
Rao's grip tightened.
"You're already ready. More than you should be at your age."
The dojo fell silent.
Veer bowed slowly.
"Yes, sir."