Mukul woke up before sunrise, as usual, stretching his small arms and looking out at the quiet village streets. Everything seemed peaceful, but inside him, a storm of plans and ideas brewed. Today was the day he would take his first real step toward the life he had promised himself.
He had already joined the school, impressed the principal, and started working small jobs after classes. But money was still tight. Even with his determination, he couldn't buy a laptop — the key to using the knowledge from his past life. So, he decided to start with something simple, something the villagers could help with: a street food stall.
Mukul knew how to cook. In his last life, he had spent hours experimenting in kitchens, learning flavors, recipes, and presentation. Now, that skill would serve him well. With a small borrowed cart and ingredients gathered from the market, he began offering snacks — steaming samosas, sweet jalebis, and fresh chai.
At first, people laughed. "A boy running a food stall? This won't last," some said. But Mukul ignored them. His hands worked fast, precise, and his food was good — better than anything else in the village. Slowly, the villagers began to notice, and soon, the line grew long every evening.
Even his classmates came to taste his food. Some asked, "Why are you doing this, Mukul?"
He smiled, handing them the hot tea. "I work for my future," he said simply.
With the small profits he earned, Mukul began saving every penny. He helped villagers with chores, repaired tools, ran errands — anything that brought a few extra rupees. Weeks passed, and finally, he had enough to buy a second-hand laptop.
The moment he held it, his mind raced with possibilities. This was no ordinary laptop — this was his gateway. Using the knowledge he retained from his previous life, Mukul began secretly building businesses online.
He created multiple identities to keep his age a secret. In the world of technology and finance, he was known as Rian Voss, a young programmer who could crack code in minutes. In the stock market, he went by Ethan Riel, trading with precision and making profits that astonished professionals. As a designer of clothes and jewelry, he signed his work as Liora Vale, selling elegant pieces online and collaborating with multinational companies under the veil of anonymity.
He even branched into music, writing songs and playing instruments under the name Kael Miro, and designed simple models for aeroplanes as Aero Nix, sharing concepts online that impressed engineers. His online personas never met anyone from the village; everything was done digitally, quietly, efficiently.
But Mukul didn't forget his studies or his cultivation. Early mornings and late nights, he practiced meditation, energy control, and martial techniques. Slowly, his mind sharpened. Cultivation awakened a new ability — a photographic memory. Every lesson in school, every book he opened, every formula or theory he studied, he absorbed instantly.
He became a model student. Teachers praised his quick understanding, and classmates looked up to him without realizing that this small boy was anything but ordinary. The knowledge he had acquired in his past life combined with his cultivation made him nearly unstoppable in learning.
Meanwhile, the villagers who helped him with the food stall became his first allies. There was Bhanu, who fetched water and cleaned the cart; Mira, who helped cook and serve; and old Ramesh, who lent him the cart and taught him tips about pricing and attracting customers. Mukul treated them all with respect and gratitude, remembering vividly the people in his last life who had helped him without asking for anything in return.
"Thank you," Mukul said one evening, as they closed the stall. "Without you, I wouldn't be able to save money for my future."
Bhanu smiled. "It's our pleasure, boy. You work hard, and we see it. Keep going."
As Mukul went to bed that night, he counted his earnings and planned the next day. Online businesses, stock trading, designing, studying, cultivation — everything had to grow together. He couldn't rush, but he had to act smart.
He whispered to himself, "Step by step, I'll rebuild everything. My family, my friends, my empire… and this time, I won't fail."
The village streets were quiet as he closed his eyes. Outside, the moonlight bathed the small houses in silver, and somewhere, a breeze seemed to carry a promise. Mukul felt it deep inside — the promise that this life would be different, stronger, and real.
And with the determination of a man far older than his ten years, he slept, dreaming of the future he was already creating.