The Calm Before the Storm
Mumbai, 9:00 AM.
The city was already alive with honking cars and chaiwalas shouting for customers. In the middle of it all, sat Nikhil—5'11", sharp jawline, shoulders wide like a Greek statue, but dressed simply in jeans and a black T-shirt. He wasn't the kind of guy who needed fancy outfits to stand out; his aura did the job.
He wasn't a gangster. He wasn't a cop.
He was just… Nikhil.
At least, that's what the world thought.
As he sipped his cutting chai, two words flashed across his phone screen:
"It's time."
He sighed, placing the glass down gently.
"Bas shuru ho gaya circus…" he muttered, standing up.
Chapter 1: The Call That Changed Everything
Three hours earlier, Nikhil was in his 2BHK flat in Andheri, scrolling memes like any normal guy. His phone buzzed—an encrypted call from an unknown number.
"Ready?" the voice asked.
"For what? IPL final tickets?" Nikhil replied casually.
"No jokes today, Singh. India is in trouble. And only YOU can fix this."
There it was again—that tone. That expectation.
He had promised himself he was done with this life. But promises and Nikhil? They never really matched.
"What's the mess this time?" he asked, walking toward his mirror and tying his shoelaces like a soldier preparing for war.
"Not on phone. Location is being sent. You have 2 hours."
Click. The line went dead.
Nikhil looked at himself in the mirror.
"Ek normal din kab aayega?"
Spoiler: Not today.
Chapter 2: Enter Aditi
Location: A posh café in Bandra. Nikhil walked in like he owned the place. People turned heads—not because he was flashy, but because he carried confidence like others carried backpacks.
And there she was. Aditi.
The kind of girl who didn't need filters to break Instagram. Simple white kurta, messy bun, and eyes that said: "I see through your nonsense."
"What are you doing here?" she asked, half-surprised, half-annoyed.
"Same thing as you. Drinking overpriced coffee and pretending life is sorted," Nikhil smirked, sliding into the chair opposite her.
She rolled her eyes. "They told me I'd meet an agent, not… you."
"They told me I'd meet a smart person, but… here we are," he replied, smirking.
(Spoiler: Nikhil was always like this. Sarcasm = oxygen.)
Before Aditi could roast him back, a man in a grey suit entered. "Briefing room. Now."
Chapter 3: The Mission
Inside a high-tech safehouse in Mumbai, the briefing was short but deadly:
A rogue syndicate had stolen a bio-code chip that could control India's satellite defense system.
They were planning to auction it tonight in Goa to the highest bidder.
If it left Indian soil? Game over.
"And you want me… why?" Nikhil asked casually.
"Because you've done the impossible before," the officer replied.
Nikhil chuckled. "Last time I saved the PM, I didn't even get free Netflix."
Aditi smirked for the first time.
"Guess you're doing it for patriotism… or maybe the adrenaline?"
Nikhil looked at her with that half-smile.
"No. I'm doing it because if someone else screws up, mera kaam badh jaayega."
Chapter 4: Goa, Guns & Gags
The sun had set in Goa, but the night was just waking up. Neon lights, EDM beats, and a beach full of tourists who had no clue the fate of a nation was about to be decided a few meters away.
Nikhil and Aditi arrived at the casino-ship where the deal was happening. Nikhil wore a black suit—clean, crisp, and deadly. Aditi, in a red dress, looked like a walking distraction (and she knew it).
"Plan kya hai?" she whispered as they entered.
"Simple," Nikhil said. "I talk, you watch. If bullets fly, duck. And if I die, tell the world I was 6'2"."
"You're 5'11"."
"Shhh. Let a man dream."
Chapter 5: The Auction of Doom
Inside, the syndicate leader—Raghav "The Viper"—was flaunting the chip like a trophy.
"Starting bid: 500 crore!"
Foreign agents, arms dealers, and billionaires raised cards like kids at a candy shop.
Nikhil walked in casually, like he owned the joint.
"500 crore? Bhai, itna paisa dekar main Goa khareed lunga!"
The crowd laughed. Viper didn't.
"Who are you?" he growled.
"The guy who's about to ruin your business… politely," Nikhil smiled, slipping into a chair at the front row.
In less than two minutes, he was talking, joking, manipulating—turning half the bidders against each other using pure words. No guns. No violence. Just OP talking skills.
By the time Viper realized what was happening, the room was chaos. Guns were drawn—on EACH OTHER.
"Ye sab tumne kiya?" Aditi whispered as they ducked behind a bar counter.
"I just asked a few questions," Nikhil grinned, loading his first gun. "Like, 'Who's sleeping with whose wife?'"
Bullets started flying.
Chapter 6: The Body of a God
Now it was time for Nikhil to stop talking and start… demolishing.
He moved like a panther—dodging bullets, disarming thugs, turning chairs into weapons. His physique wasn't for show; it was for war.
One punch.
One flip.
Three guys down.
At one point, he even stopped mid-fight to sip a stranger's drink.
"Nice mojito," he said before smashing the glass on a goon's head.
Aditi? She wasn't just watching. She was backing him up like a pro—throwing bottles, hacking security systems on her phone. Together? They were unstoppable.
Chapter 7: Face-Off with Viper
Finally, Nikhil reached Viper on the top deck. The ocean breeze mixed with the stench of gunpowder.
"You should have stayed home, Singh," Viper sneered, holding the chip.
"And you should've gone to therapy, bro," Nikhil replied, rolling his neck.
The fight was brutal—close combat, knives flashing, every punch like thunder.
But Viper underestimated one thing: Nikhil never loses.
With one final move (a spinning elbow that would make UFC fighters cry), Nikhil sent Viper crashing into the pool.
Chip: secured.
India: safe.
Chapter 8: Aftermath
Dawn. Goa beach. Nikhil and Aditi sat quietly, watching the sun rise.
"You're insane," she said softly.
"I prefer the term… efficient," Nikhil smirked.
"You could've died."
He looked at her and shrugged. "Then who would make sarcastic jokes at your expense?"
For a moment, silence. Their eyes met—something unspoken lingered.
But neither confessed. That wasn't their story.
"Chai?" he finally said.
"Only if you're paying," she replied, smiling.
And just like that, the man who talked to chaos walked away into another day—calm on the surface, storm inside