Chapter 20
On a desolate beach, a small boy, no older than 12, stumbled urgently across the sand, his body marred with blood and scratches that told stories of recent struggles. Clutched tightly in his arms was a bag filled with bread.
Just beyond the sand, a makeshift home stood, its ceiling patched with plastic sheets that flapped in the wind like weary flags. Inside, on the ground, an elderly man in his eighties was barely visible, frail and weakened by the passage of time and misfortune. When the boy burst into the tent, breathless and anxious, he called out to his grandfather, “Grandpa, eat this! You haven't eaten for two days.”
The old man raised his head with great difficulty, his gaze falling upon his grandson, who appeared battered and bruised from a recent encounter with cruel fate. The boy’s torn clothes and the fresh wounds that dotted his body painted a grim picture of violence, possibly inflicted by stones hurled at him in a moment of desperation.
Words eluded the grandfather as tears began to fill his eyes, streaming down the lines etched deep into his weathered face. “This world is so unfair,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking under the weight of emotion. “You should be playing and living a happy life, yet here you are, reduced to thievery.” He wiped at his tears, the motion heavy with despair, and managed to push himself up with the aid of a wooden stick. “Raju, didn’t I tell you not to steal?” he chided, swinging the stick lightly towards the boy.
Raju, fully aware of the old man's intentions, didn’t attempt to evade the blow. The pain shot through him as he cried out, “Ahh! Grandpa, you’re going to kill yourself at this rate!”
“Who are you calling Grandpa?” the old man snapped, bitterness creeping into his voice. “I’ve saved you once after your parents died, and since then, you’ve clung to me like a parasite. I can’t take it any longer! Get away from me! I don’t want to see you near me again.”
The words hit Raju like a physical blow. “Why are you saying that, Grandpa?” he cried, collapsing onto the ground as the harsh reality of the old man's voice pierced his heart. “You’ve always treated me well since I was eight! How can I be so ungrateful as to leave you in your final days?”
Tears brimmed in the grandfather’s eyes as he sat down beside the sobbing boy. “I will die soon.” The old man’s voice softened, dripping with resignation. “There’s no need for you to hurt yourself to take care of me.” He took a piece of bread, holding it between trembling fingers, and said with a heavy heart, “Money makes the world go round, that much is true, but it also brings suffering to those who have too much. Your parents were victims of this cruel cycle.”
Raju’s eyes widened at the revelation, his mouth opening in shock as he prepared to respond, but before he could speak, the tent flap burst open with sudden force.
Shambu, a figure of intimidation, stormed in, disbelief etched across his face. “I thought this shore was deserted,” he grumbled, kicking the old man.
“Nooo! Grandpaaa! Raju rushed forward, panic igniting every nerve in his body. “Are you alright?” He cradled the frail man in his arms, desperation ringing in his voice.
The old man felt the shadow of death creeping over him but managed to muster a smile for Raju, turning his gaze toward Shambu. “Thank you for that, but please, let this child go,” he pleaded, a desperate softness in his voice.
“Why are you thanking him?” Raju shouted, his voice laced with agony. “He’s the one who hit you! It’s all my fault for stealing from the market.” He turned to look at Shambu. “You can take the bread—I won't steal again. Just leave us alone. Grandpa, you agree, right?”
Silence enveloped the small tent, thick and suffocating.
“Grandpaaa!” Raju’s voice broke as the old man took his final breath, slipping away from this world.
Shambu turned to Anbu, a cruel smile creeping onto his lips as he surveyed Raju, crumpled in desperation. “Should I kill him too to prevent any issues?”
“No need,” Anbu replied, his tone cold and commanding as he approached the boy. “Kid, run or die.”
The chilling weight of his words settled over Raju, and with one last, sorrowful glance at his grandfather, he bolted from the tent. “I’ll remember your faces! Just wait until I get stronger!” he yelled defiantly, adrenaline pushing him forward.
High above, Dhruv soared through the sky, his search for a suitable body for possession momentarily interrupted as he spotted the boy below. “Huh! What good luck,” he mused to himself. “I don’t have to waste my energy.” With a swift motion, he descended into Raju's small body, absorbing the boy’s memories and struggles in the process. “You’ve had it rough, Raju,” he echoed mentally, 'But don’t worry. I’ll make your wish come true soon enough.'
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Dhruv sprinted towards the market, his mind set on acquiring a mobile phone, motivated by a sense of urgency. However, his intentions were abruptly interrupted when the bakery owner called out to him, “Here he is, catch him.” Dhruv instantly recognised the bakery owner and felt a mix of frustration and determination surge within him. He quickly decided to confront the man, his heart pounding as he approached.
As he approached, The Bakery owner couldn't help but notice Raju's worn and tired features, which seemed to carry the weight of the world. With a grin that contrasted sharply with Dhruv's despair, spoke. “Oh! You’re not running anymore? It looks like you’ve given up so easily. Now let us head to the authorities.” Just as he was about to take action, a sudden jolt of purple light came from Dhruv's hand and entered into his mind, causing him to pause.
“Child, you are just a 12-year-old, and perhaps I’ve misjudged you,” the bakery owner said, his tone surprisingly softening. Shaking his head, he added with a touch of sincerity, “From this day forth, do not steal. I promise to take care of you. First, though, let's get you to the hospital.”
Onlookers surrounding Raju were left speechless, their eyes wide as they watched the two figures leave together. One person in the crowd broke the silence, questioning, “Did he lose his mind?” Another shrugged, “Whatever, he is a rich merchant. Who are we to question him?” As the crowd began to disperse, Dhruv couldn’t help but think to himself, ‘The Replace Thought skill is still impressive. I didn’t have to lift a finger.’
Once Raju’s treatment at the hospital was completed, he sought out the bakery owner again. “Can you give me your mobile phone? I need to make a call,” he requested. The bakery owner nodded thoughtfully, handed over his mobile, and moved aside to consult with the doctor.
Dhruv seized the opportunity and dialled his main body’s phone number. Much to his surprise, a girl’s voice greeted him on the other end. “Hello!” she said, sounding slightly puzzled.
“Um, are you Tara?” he asked, a hint of suspicion lacing his words.
“Yeah! Who is this?” she inquired, sounding equally confused.
His panic rose as he pressed on, “Where is my main body, and why are you answering his phone?”
'Ah! I forgot his clone is still out there.' She thought internally and responded, “He is unconscious at the moment because he overused his mind and forcefully activated Soul Box in that situation.”
Dhruv took a brief moment to process her words before sharing what he had learned. Tara then added, “I thought they would do something extraordinary since they lost so many pure souls earlier today.” After a moment’s silence, she asked, “What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Huh!” Tara was taken aback.
Dhruv replied honestly, “Yeah, you can’t do anything at this moment. My main body could have done something.”
In a teasing tone, she responded, “Do you really want to dismiss me that easily?”
“Oh no, you still have some hidden cards, don’t you? It’s because of you that my main body is unconscious, isn’t it?” he retorted.
Tara interrupted, “Don’t let your thoughts run wild. I’m not talking about myself. Don’t you want to know how I managed to escape that sticky situation in Patna?” She paused, a playful glint in her voice. “Ah, I forgot you can’t use your full wisdom skill to think that far, like your main body.”
'Be it main body or me, she doesn't change.' Dhruv broke the awkward silence, his voice low as he asked, “Can you explain?”
“I don’t want to,” she answered promptly, then declared, “I’m coming to Chennai tomorrow with some new allies and will explain everything then.” With that, she hung up.
Dhruv sighed heavily, glancing at the nurse who was bringing him medicine. “I sometimes hate girls,” he muttered under his breath.
The nurse, catching his remark, replied in a firm tone. “Listen, kid, stop making a fuss and take your medicine quietly. You’re at an age where you shouldn’t be messing around with girls. Look at you—covered in bandages. Clearly, you’ve been fighting with others over a girl.”
Dhruv: -_-
…
3 hours later. 09:30 pm
Outside the makeshift home, Anbu turned to his brother and firmly instructed, “Call Rajiv. We need to discuss this together.” The urgency in his voice signalled the importance of the matter at hand.
Once connected, Anbu wasted no time getting straight to the point. “We’ve spent countless hours researching and digging through tons of data, but we haven’t managed to pinpoint the right target yet. However, your idea about the chemical was brilliant. That led me to reach out to my conscious puppet in Delhi, and guess what? I’ve got a massive lead.”
Rajiv, intrigued and eager to hear more, responded, “Okay, don't leave me hanging now.”
With a dramatic pause that heightened the tension, Anbu announced, “VX Nerve Agent.”
Rajiv’s curiosity piqued, and he followed up with a question, “What's that?”
Anbu took a breath before explaining, “It’s classified as a weapon of mass destruction. This chemical exists in both liquid and gaseous forms, and just a single drop can incapacitate a person’s nervous system, resulting in death within about 15 minutes.”
Rajiv asked, “Damn, you are telling me you can acquire this chemical?”
Anbu’s tone was resolute as he declared, “Yes, it's a little complicated, but we can figure it out. It’s located in a chemical facility in Chennai. I don’t understand why they are keeping this highly toxic chemical there, but honestly, I have no qualms about using it now.”
Shambu joined the conversation, his voice filled with excitement and enthusiasm. “Yeah, and hear this. We will use it to pollute the water supply facility of the city. With the addition of my ‘Soul Corrosion’ skill in the air, it will work even faster. Plus, Mia can also improve her skills amidst this commotion.”
Rajiv, analysing the entire plan, concluded, “It’s a very solid plan. To sum it up, you guys are infiltrating two big facilities in the city.”
“No, no, no,” Anbu shook his head defiantly. “You both need to come here first thing tomorrow morning. We’re going to infiltrate the chemical plant tonight while the security is relaxed. After that, all four of us will move on to the water supply facility together.”
A frown crossed Rajiv’s face as he disagreed, “Ah! We should re-evaluate this strategy after you’ve handled the infiltration at the chemical facility.”
“Ugh, you stubborn hermit!” Anbu exclaimed in frustration. “Fine, let’s just talk about it later.” With that, he ended the call and headed off towards the chemical facility, Shambu following closely behind.
From a distance, Dhruv, appearing to be just twelve years old, observed their departure with a look of confusion and curiosity. “Where are they off to now?” he mumbled to himself.
Making his way back to the makeshift home, he found two bodies sprawled on the ground — one was the sniper’s and the other belonged to the old man. “This conscious puppet still hasn’t woken up. Should I attempt to penetrate his mind? Since he isn't a Black Soul user, I doubt he would notice anything amiss. But what if the master of this puppet catches wind of my presence?”
After weighing his options for a while, Dhruv made a decision; he would follow them.