The next morning, just as Alex finished his four-hour security shift, a soft chime rang in his mind.
[Ding! You've completed 4 hours of work. Energy level: Full!]
[Time travel unlocked!]
[Duration: 4 hours]
His eyes lit up instantly.
Perfect timing.
This time, unlike the last time he had blundered into the past without a strategy, he was determined to be better prepared.
He needed proper supplies, especially water, the one thing that had turned out to be more valuable than gold in the ancient world.
There were still thirty minutes before his meeting with the enigmatic girl that he had encountered on his first visit to the past. That was plenty of time to quickly return to the parking garage and retrieve what he had prepared in advance.
In the trunk of his Mercedes-Benz G-Class, he had stored three crates full of bottled mineral water—available for trade.
He smiled, proud of his own foresight.
And since the underground parking lot didn't have cameras in some corners, it provided a convenient location to disappear without causing undue attention.
The elevator pinged open, and Alex entered the darkened basement level.
As he approached his G-Class, something halted him a couple of steps in.
A little distance away was a girl—perhaps his age—wearing a chic JK school-style uniform, looking spontaneously cute and energetic. She looked like a somebody who should have belonged in a pop music video rather than an underground garage.
At this moment, a BMW 5 Series passed by, and from its open window, somebody carelessly threw a half-full drink bottle in her direction.
It came close to hitting her.
"You're disgusting!" she erupted, clearly angry. "Throwing garbage like that—have some manners!"
Her cheeks sucked in with exasperation, but she didn't let it go.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the bottle, ran forward in quick little strides, and—before the driver had time to react—flung it right back through the open window.
Not so lucky for the driver, the cap had loosened… and the remaining juice splattered all over him.
A wet and angry Jatin yelled, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" inside the car.
The door burst open.
He stormed out, clearly ready to make the girl regret her little payback.
But Alex beat him to it.
His boots rang sharply out on the concrete garage floor as he strode out—and without a word, kicked shut the car door with one quick motion.
The ringing metallic thud echoed through the garage.
Then he glared Jatin down, eyes steady but unyielding.
He had not set out to get involved. But as a security guard trained to guard the citizens and property in this area, and given this was the same arrogant shithead who had threatened him yesterday, Alex figured this was both his professional obligation and a personal treat.
"I might be a security guard," he replied calmly, "but protecting people is technically in my job description."
Riya, the JK-clad girl, blinked in shock as she gazed up at Alex, and her anger of a moment earlier dissipated quickly into something more akin to awe and admiration, particularly after witnessing him stand up for an entire stranger without hesitation.
Although the circumstances had been fraught, her own heart was now racing faster, not in fear, but at how unnervingly cool and calm Alex had been.
She wasn't the only one whose heart rate accelerated.
Jatin was taken aback for a split second when he recognized the man in front of him, but his shock gave way to anger.
"You again? You disgusting security guard!" he snarled, with venom in his voice. "Yesterday, you forced me to get my details registered, making me late and getting me reprimanded by my boss. And now you're the one manning this post today?"
With an angry face, Jatin emerged from his sporty BMW, his face twisted in a combination of disdain and arrogance. With his finger shaking, he gestured angrily at Alex, obviously infuriated.
"Who the hell do you think you are, huh? You're just a damn security guard, yet you have the dare to interfere with my affairs?"
"You want to fight or something?" he went on, taking a step closer, trying to get him into a fight.
Alex's face didn't change. He emitted a cold laugh.
"Fight? I don't fight with stray dogs in the middle of the road. I just walk past them."
The barb struck home. Jatin's face grew angry.
"You actually think you're some kind of big shot, don't you?" Jatin sneered. "Don't forget where you belong. You're just some guy in a uniform, manning a gate for people like me.
And at this point, Riya leaped from behind Alex, who couldn't keep quiet anymore.
"Had enough!" she snapped. "What makes you think you have the right to downgrade someone's work? Just because you own a BMW?"
Her hips were planted firmly in place, her gaze fixed on Jatin with utter contempt. "If being rich made anyone a good person, you'd still be broke."
Jatin snorted. "Oh, come on. Tell me you're interested in him now."
He mockingly laughed and slapped the hood of his BMW.
"Know how much money this baby is worth? You could work your entire life as a security guard and still not be able to touch the steering wheel."
He then went to Alex with a smug smile.
"Got a car, hero? Or you still riding on that dirty bicycle outside the gate?
Alex finally opened his mouth, as placid as ever. "As a matter of fact, I do have one."
Jatin scoffed. "Oh? What is it? A used Alto? Perhaps one of those e-rickshaws?"
Riya rolled her eyes and took Alex's hand. "Come on,. You don't need to spend breath on garbage."
When Jatin noticed Alex and Riya attempting to leave, he immediately concluded that they were nervous and did not have much confidence.
"Hah! Already running away? That's what I thought—no guts!"
He stepped in and obstructed their way again, puffing out his chest as if he had already triumphed.
"I do have a car," Alex said tranquilly.
"No need to rush," he supplemented, somewhat embarrassed because Riya was still holding his hand.
Riya smiled at him softly. "It's fine. Not owning a car today isn't something to be embarrassed about," she told him, attempting to defuse the situation. "So long as it gets you from A to B, it doesn't matter if it's not a fancy car."
She actually thought Alex was only trying to save face and was prepared to encourage him either way.
Jatin laughed loudly, his voice full of ridicule.
"Hahaha! Still acting, right?" he taunted. "If you actually own a car, I'd love to see it. What is it—a Maruti that doesn't run? Or perhaps your friend's Activa?"
He sneered, contempt in his eyes.
"You're just a bloody security guard attempting to be cool in front of a girl. I detest pretty boys like you."
Since he had first seen Alex, Jatin had disliked him—although deep inside, even he did not know that it was because he was jealous. Jealousy of the manner in which Alex walked, the quiet confidence he emanated, and above all, his appearance.
But his hatred made him blind.
Alex did not respond to that. He merely smiled weakly, put his hand into his pocket, and clicked a button on his car key.
Beep! Beep!
Five meters away, the lights on a jet-black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon suddenly came on.
Its aggressive body, wide stance, and thundering engine presence turned all heads nearby. The car resembled a beast waiting in ambush—strong, lean, and hard to miss.
Even Jatin's derisive face froze for an instant.
Anyone familiar with even a little bit of car knowledge could see: this was no ordinary Mercedes.
It was a high-end G-Wagon—the one that was priced more than ₹1 crore, a status symbol.
Only a filthy rich or extremely influential person would be able to afford driving one.
Jatin stood frozen, utterly bewildered, his mind struggling to keep up with what his eyes were seeing.
How was this even possible? What kind of world did he live in?
A guy he had just ridiculed as a low-ranking security guard… was now driving away in a Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon, a car worth more than 1 crore rupees.
Not so long ago, Jatin had been basking in the glow of a recent promotion. With his new job and an inflated salary, he had trumpeted the investment in a shiny new BMW 5 Series, a purchase that had made him feel like he'd at last joined the upper echelons of society. He had thought he was on top of the world, a rags-to-riches success tale.
But now?
Now that illusion was destroyed before him, courtesy of a man he had believed was below him.
The G-Wagon wasn't even a step above—it was a league above, an icon of power, influence, and silent prestige. Even after working for another decade, Jatin wasn't certain if he could afford one without selling half his soul.
Standing next to him, Riya was just as shocked—though she was able to maintain her self-control better than Jatin, whose face had already started to redden in disbelief and embarrassment.
Even though she too hailed from an affluent background, with a sumptuous monthly allowance of more than ₹60,000, Riya was well able to identify that the car Alex had just got into was hardly ordinary. True to form, an onlooker such as Jatin—the epitome of smugness—being left tongue-tied, only served to prove to her that this wasn't a borrowed vehicle. This was the genuine deal.
As her eyes rested on Alex, something within her changed.
In her mind, she quietly labeled him with a new word: low-key, very low-key—and in the most appealing manner.
"You truly are something, Alex," she said, her tone softer now, with admiration and a hint of curiosity. "You drive a monster car like that, and still never once attempted to boast. Not like someone else, who won't shut up about his BMW every opportunity he gets."
She gave Jatin a sharp, contemptuous look, her words stinging worse than a slap.
Jatin merely stood there, grinding his teeth, utterly speechless.
Low-key?! For real?!
This man was so low-key it wasn't even funny.
Here he was, driving around in a G-Wagon that cost more than twice his BMW, and still working as a security guard? Was he an undercover billionaire or something?
Alex, meanwhile, remained as composed as ever. With a faint smile tugging at his lips, he spoke calmly, "I've got something to take care of. I'll get going."
He opened the driver's door, settled into the plush leather seat with practiced ease, and was about to drive off when Riya hurried forward, her voice slightly nervous now.
"Wait! Um… can I WhatsApp you?" she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You really went out of your way back there… I'd like to take you out to dinner sometime, if that's alright."
Without thought, Alex rolled down the window and handed over his phone. Their hands touched for a moment as they swapped numbers, and Riya couldn't suppress the small smile that crept onto her face.
"Sure," he said smoothly, his tone as carefree as ever.
With a small wave and a simple "Stay in touch", he sped off on the gas.
VROOOOM!
The Mercedes roared like a beast let loose its engine echoing down the street as the vehicle surged forward sleek powerful and utterly untouchable.
Riya stood still, eyes locked on the fading taillights. Her heart fluttered in a way it hadn't in a long time.
"Calm, confident… and actually kind," she breathed to herself, her smile growing. "And handsome. It's so hard to meet all of that in one guy."
Her earlier annoyance had long since evaporated, replaced by something far more perilous—interest, excitement, and curiosity.
Already, she was planning it out in her mind.
Dinner. The two of them. Soon.
In the meantime, Jatin remained frozen there like a statue, face tense, brain on autopilot.
Something didn't feel right. Very not right.
He slowly swiveled his head toward his own BMW, and his blood ran cold.
Right there, on the driver's side door—a jagged, ugly dent glared back at him.
"Damn it," he moaned, his voice laced with pain.
In a rage, furious and in a daze, he had swung the door open without seeing the concrete pillar next to him—and now, his brand-new car had borne the brunt.
The dent was deep and unmistakable. A reminder of his pride, his rashness, and his complete defeat.
And the worst part?
The EMI payments hadn't even begun yet.
"I just purchased this damn vehicle," he cursed under his breath, fists clenching. "Still paying it off… and now this?"
His heart hurt like it was punched.
Today, he had lost everything—his sense of superiority, his pride, and even the immaculate state of his precious car.
This was, without question, the most costly lesson of his life.