*August 11, 1986, Mumbai, India*
The August sun blazed over Mumbai, its relentless heat shimmering off the glass facade of the Mehra Building in Bandra, a towering symbol of Raj Mehra's burgeoning empire. In just two months, Raj had accelerated his operations with surgical precision, transforming his 40-crore fortune into a sprawling network of influence that spanned cinema, literature, politics, and the underworld. At 21, his youthful frame belied the cunning of a man reborn from 2025, his mind sharpened by a lifetime of calculated risks. His villa's rooftop terrace, where sunlight charged his Sun God Body—granting immortality, de-aging, and enhanced charisma—felt like a distant memory today. Here, in his fourth-floor office, the pulse of his empire thrummed: phones ringing, staff scurrying with scripts and contracts, the Arabian Sea glittering beyond his panoramic window.
Raj stood at that window, his reflection revealing a face sculpted to god-like perfection—high cheekbones, luminous skin, hair gleaming like polished obsidian. The JS-1 Medicine had gifted him superhuman abilities: 100x stamina, twice a bull's strength, ten times a cat's reflexes, five times a cheetah's speed. He could dodge bullets, run at 600 km/h, and now, with the Sun God Body, sustain it all through solar energy, extending his lifespan indefinitely. His lovers, Priya and Jyoti Menon, shared this gift through intimacy, their beauty and lifespans enhanced with every touch. But Raj's focus was elsewhere—on the empire he was forging, brick by calculated brick.
### Cinema Empire Expansion
Raj's first move was a bold strike at India's cinematic heart. In June, he'd summoned Suraj Singh, his sharp-witted CEO of *Pragarti Venture*, to his office. The room was a blend of modern luxury and strategic chaos—teak desk piled with dossiers, a digital clock ticking, sea breeze filtering through cracked windows. "Suraj," Raj said, his voice commanding, "we're expanding our cinema chain. Forty crore—buy 100 existing halls, have *Mehra Construction* build 150 more from scratch. Target 300 total by February next year."
Suraj, adjusting his glasses, leaned forward, his notepad ready. "Boss, 300? We've got 50 now. That's a massive leap. Where do we prioritize?"
"Everywhere," Raj replied, his enhanced charisma filling the room. "Delhi, Chennai, Kolkata, but focus on tier-2 cities—Nagpur, Surat, Bhopal. Smaller markets are hungrier for theaters; returns are 30% higher. Vishal's team builds the new ones—use the road tech for efficiency. Buy distressed halls cheap—bankruptcies in Punjab, Gujarat. Make it happen."
Suraj scribbled furiously, a mix of awe and skepticism in his eyes. "Vishal's juggling road tenders already. Can he deliver?"
"He will," Raj said, his tone unyielding. "Offer his crew bonuses for early completion. Plush seats, top-tier sound systems—no cutting corners. We're not just building theaters; we're owning the box office."
By August, *Mehra Construction* had broken ground on 100 new theaters across Maharashtra, Gujarat, Tamil Nadu, and Uttar Pradesh, while acquisitions snapped up 50 failing halls in smaller cities. Vishal Singh, sweating under a hardhat at a Nagpur site, called Raj in July. "Sahab, 20 halls are framed—two months ahead. Your construction methods are unreal—less material, faster builds, same strength."
Raj, lounging in his villa's study, grinned into the phone. "Push for 50 by October, Vishal. I want screens ready for *Maharana Pratap*'s release this December."
Vishal's voice crackled with enthusiasm. "On it, sahab. We'll beat the deadline."
The plan was on track: by February 1987, Raj's chain would hit 300 halls, controlling 15% of India's box office, with projected profits of 100 crore annually.
### Mexican Gambles and Global Reach
In June, Raj jetted to Mexico City for the FIFA World Cup, a glittering arena of high-stakes betting and global connections. Alone in his hotel suite, he analyzed match odds with uncanny precision, his mind a razor honed by experience. Over the tournament, he bet heavily, netting 300 crore by the final whistle—Argentina's victory over West Germany a roaring backdrop to his triumph.
At a private box in Estadio Azteca, Raj sipped champagne with Carlos Rivera, a Mexican betting lord with a gold chain and a predatory grin. "Señor Mehra," Carlos said, raising a glass, "your bets—every one a winner. You're a magician."
Raj's smile was enigmatic, his enhanced features disarming. "Just instinct, Carlos. Sharp instincts." He clapped Carlos's shoulder, a subtle gesture masking a deeper intent—future alliances in Mexico's entertainment market. "Ever thought about films? Indian stories, global appeal?"
Carlos raised a brow, intrigued. "Films? Here?"
"Yoga, martial arts, ancient wisdom," Raj said, leaning in. "Small profits, big influence. Think about it."
Raj kept the 300 crore offshore, dodging India's tax net. He invested 30 crore in a Mexico City film studio, *Estrella India Productions*, hiring local Indian American writers to craft 20 films blending Indian elements—yoga, Ayurveda, Kalaripayattu—with universal themes. In a video call with Suraj, Raj laid out the plan. "Invest 100 crore in production," he said, his villa's balcony framing the sea behind him. "Low returns—2-3% profit—but no losses. These films plant our flag globally."
Suraj's face, pixelated on the screen, showed doubt. "Boss, 100 crore for that? Why not Bollywood blockbusters?"
"Soft power, Suraj," Raj replied, his voice firm. "India's culture sells abroad. The diaspora's hungry, and these films build our brand."
The remaining 200 crore went to acquiring theater chains across the Americas—50 screens in the U.S., 20 in Mexico, 10 in Brazil. "Diversify," Raj told Suraj. "We're not chasing Hollywood's giants yet—just carving a niche."
### Literary Triumph and Fan Frenzy
*Mehra Book House* rode a wave of success with *Game of Thrones* (A Song of Ice and Fire), earning 3 crore in two months, primarily from Europe's fantasy fans. Merchandise—dragon figurines, Chandravanshi, suryavanshi and Stark sigil pendants, Iron Throne replicas—outshone book sales, raking in 20 crore. Raj capitalized on the hype, attending fan gatherings in London and New York, signing copies in packed bookstores.
At a London event, a teenage fan, Emma, clutched her book, eyes wide. "Mr. Mehra, *Game of Thrones* changed my life! When's the next one?"
Raj, pen in hand, flashed a charismatic smile. "Soon, Emma. Bigger battles, darker plots—stay tuned." The crowd cheered, his presence magnetic. Indian-genre books earned 50 lakhs globally, thriving domestically as expected, with six new titles—two historical epics, three romances, one mystery—branded with the *Mehra Book House* logo.
In a New York bookstore, a fan named Michael cornered him. "Your stories feel alive, man. How do you write like that?"
Raj chuckled, signing a book. "Inspiration hits hard, Michael. And I've got a good team." The fans' adoration fueled his drive, each signature a step toward cultural dominance.
### Asur's Relentless Raids
Raj's secret organization, *Asur*, was his deadliest weapon, known only to him within the Mehra Building. Its 20 members—ex-military recruits like Arjun Das, Vikram, and Ramesh—had been transformed by a secret purchase: a *Hyper Nano Loyalty Chip*. Raj had acquired it in May, a microscopic device that ensured absolute loyalty. During a handshake with Arjun in his office, the chip embedded painlessly, migrating to his brain over three days. By June, Arjun's reports were unwaveringly devoted. "Boss, the team's ready for anything," he'd said, eyes gleaming with newfound purpose.
Raj instructed the chip to replicate, spreading to Vikram, Ramesh, and the rest of *Asur* during routine meetings. By July, all 20 members were bound to him, their minds linked for mental commands. *No betrayal, no leaks, protect *Asur* at all costs,* Raj ordered silently, the chip enforcing obedience without altering their personalities. Future recruits would receive it during initiation, ensuring an unbreakable legion.
To amplify their power, Raj purchased *2nd Gen Power Serum*—1 lakh per dose, 20 doses total. It granted 5x agility, strength, endurance, and 100 years of lifespan. In a warehouse meeting, Arjun handed vials to the team. "Drink," he said, his voice steady. "Boss says this makes us gods."
Vikram downed his, grimacing. "Tastes like rust. What's this do?"
Arjun, already dosed, punched a steel crate, denting it. "Makes us unstoppable." Within hours, Vikram sprinted faster than a car, Ramesh lifted a 500-kg crate, and Arjun disarmed a training dummy in a blur. *Asur* was now a force of superhuman demons.
Raj tasked them with raiding corrupt officials—police commissioners, judges, politicians hoarding black money. Over two months, they hit 15 targets, netting 60 crore in cash, gold, and jewels. Arjun's voice echoed mentally after a Delhi raid: *Judge's safe—15 crore, no alarms.* Raj, sipping coffee in his villa, replied, *Next: Kolhapur minister, 20 crore in his basement. Clean hit.* The raids were flawless, blamed on rival factions or internal leaks, leaving no trace to Raj.
### Bhartiya Party's Rise
Raj's vision for the *Bhartiya Party* (BP) took shape in June. He summoned Suraj and Anil Kumar to his office, the sea a restless backdrop. "We're launching BP," he said, his voice low. "Not for me to lead—I'll control it from the shadows. Find 10 social workers, clean records, nationalist hearts. Start in Maharashtra."
Anil, editor of *The Bharat Front*, frowned. "Politics, sir? It's a cesspool. Why dive in?"
Raj's eyes gleamed. "To fix India, Anil. Corrupt leaders bleed us dry. BP will be different—grassroots, trusted. Suraj, use the 60 crore from our... operations. Send workers to villages—solve real problems. School fees, hospital bills, roads, electricity."
Suraj nodded, impressed. "Smart, boss. People vote for results. How much per state?"
"Maharashtra gets 30 crore," Raj said. "Spread the rest across Gujarat, UP, Tamil Nadu. Small fixes—build trust, not miracles. Anil, run stories hyping BP's work."
In two months, BP workers spread out, their sincerity winning hearts. In a Maharashtra village, Sanjay Patil, a chipped worker, met farmers. "Your kids need books? We'll pay," he said, handing over 10,000 rupees. In another, a woman begged for hospital funds; BP covered it. Gravel roads appeared, solar lamps lit villages. "BP cares," people whispered, unaware of the chips ensuring loyalty among key leaders.
Raj met Sanjay in a Mumbai cafe. "How's the ground?" he asked, shaking his hand, reinforcing the chip.
Sanjay's eyes were fervent. "Sir, they love us. Villages talk of BP like saviors. More funds, and we'll own Maharashtra."
"Good," Raj said. "Gujarat next. Report weekly." BP's foundation was solid, its influence growing.
### Lotus Awards: A Cultural Milestone
The Lotus Awards launched on August 1 in Nagpur, a spectacle orchestrated by Priya Menon and his assistant Pooja. Raj had pushed for it in June, meeting her in his villa's study. "Priya, make it grand," he said, his arm around her, the Kajal incident forgiven. "Zero application fees this year—flood us with talent. Filter out anything anti-India or anti-Hindu."
Priya, her eyes sparkling, nodded. "It'll be huge, Raj. We've got two weeks of hype in *The Bharat Front* and our regional papers."
The Nagpur convention hall glittered—red carpets, klieg lights, 5,000 attendees. Raj, in a tailored sherwani, opened the night. "The Lotus Awards honor India's cinematic soul," he declared, his voice resonating. "Tonight, we celebrate excellence."
After that some actors also give dance performance on stage.
Winners were chosen meticulously: five Bollywood films, seven South Indian films across 20 categories—Best Director, Best Actor/Actress, Supporting Roles, Cinematography, Music, and more.
Raj has filter out from with system like this film deserve award from all the list or no and system gave answer in Yes and No.
Each award winners received 1 lakh cash, a shock to the industry. A Tamil director, Shankar, clutched his Best Director award backstage, tears in his eyes. "Mr. Mehra, this pays for my next film," he said, shaking Raj's hand. "We make movies on 4-5 lakhs. This is a lifeline."
Raj smiled, his grip firm. "Make art that uplifts, Shankar. Spread Goodwill in society." The next day, headlines screamed: "LOTUS AWARDS REDEFINE INDIAN CINEMA." South Indian papers lauded the cash prizes, cementing Raj's influence.
### Maharana Pratap's Triumph
*Maharana Pratap: The Legacy* wrapped shooting in July, its release fast-tracked to August 5. Raj has previously visited sets often, suggesting scene tweaks—grander battles, deeper monologues—that added 40 lakhs to the budget.
In first Week it earned 30 lakhs. Which was very good opening.
### Reflections at the Helm
Raj stood at his office window, the sea's rhythm a backdrop to his thoughts. His empire was a colossus: 300 cinema halls by February, 300 crore from Mexico, a global studio, 20-crore *Game of Thrones* merchandise, 60-crore *Asur* raids, BP's rise, and the Lotus Awards' triumph. His secret weapon—*Asur*—operated in shadows, known only to him, its loyalty absolute. BP's chipped leaders ensured his control, while his theaters, books, and films reshaped culture.
He buzzed Suraj. "BP status?"
Suraj entered, dossier in hand. "Maharashtra's locked, boss—10 leaders fully committed. Villages love us. Gujarat's next; water shortages are the big issue."
"Double Gujarat's budget—20 crore," Raj said. "And theaters?"
"150 under construction, 50 acquired," Suraj replied. "Vishal's ahead—300 by January."
Raj nodded, turning to the sea. "*Bhartiya Party* will rewrite India. No rules, only my will."