Rohit picked a kebab from a passing tray, chewing thoughtfully as he considered his options.
It was then his phone buzzed.
A quick look and it turned out to be message from Seo-yeon. She thanked him, said she'd returned home safely, and asked where he was?
Almost at the same time, another notification popped up . this time it was from his bodyguard, just a casual 'Hello.'
Rohit chuckled, amused at their decision to text instead of call, but chose to ghost them both. Tonight, he couldn't afford distractions.
With a quick scan of the hall, he noticed how the crowd's attention was split across four corners. One cluster, of course, revolved around the hosts—the Chambanis. The rest were drawn toward the young scions of three powerful families.
The atmosphere was deceptively polite, yet beneath the smiles it was a silent battlefield. It was the 'Battle of impressions.'
Every move these heirs made—how they spoke, who they mingled with, what they showcased—would decide their families' future standing and alliances.
The host's son might have been a spoiled embarrassment, but the elder daughter was sure to appear eventually, raising the stakes further.
Rohit understood why his mother had insisted he attend. Perhaps she feared missing out on influence, or simply wanted her son's presence to tip the scales.
Ironically, he'd offered her his company earlier for a romantic evening, only to end up dragged into a tug-of-war for family power. Not that he could complain; this also served his own long-term plans.
Rohit's eyes swept the room again.
The Chambani heir? Instinct told him a big 'NO'.
He was a liability, unstable, the kind of person who could ruin carefully-laid efforts in a single tantrum. Better to steer clear.
Danesh Ahuja came next.
Surrounded by a group of peers, he looked approachable, sharp, and well-mannered. The Ahuja connection seemed safe—after all, Rohit's mother had family ties there.
Partnering with him could strengthen his position.
Yet Rohit sensed a drawback: Danesh was already leading the room. Joining him might reduce Rohit to a shadow and dependent on crumbs of recognition.
Then came Jayesh Mittal.
The man carried himself like a star, charming women across age groups and laughing easily with elders.
Rohit clenched his jaw. He knew Jayesh too well—dangerously charismatic, manipulative, always a step ahead. A tempting rival to challenge, but risky to engage.
Finally, his gaze landed on Ishita Goenka.
Unlike the others, she wasn't working the crowd—she was leading the Japanese delegation herself. Masato Fujimura of Takamura Heavy Industries stood at her side, along with his wife and their twelve-year-old daughter.
Ishita introduced relics with elegance, her guests visibly impressed. Even the little girl drew affectionate compliments from Goenka's circle, giving the family an added aura of warmth.
Rohit's interest sharpened. Ishita was playing the smartest hand—winning over the Japanese would force even the Chambanis to take notice.
Already, more guests began orbiting around her group.
He grabbed a glass of juice and decided to trail them, blending in effortlessly. His anonymity was his advantage—no one spared him a glance, allowing him to observe at leisure.
Ishita stopped before a large map of ancient India, displayed beside a portrait of an emperor. A marble bowl, encased in glass, gleamed under the lights.
With poise, she explained,"This bowl is said to have belonged to Emperor Ashoka, who ruled after the Kalinga War. The bloodshed changed him forever. He embraced Buddhism, by using this very bowl to take the sacred oath and through his missionaries, its teachings spread far beyond India—becoming a legacy the world still remembers."
Her words struck a chord.
Fujimura bowed deeply, his wife and daughter following suit. The unexpected reverence stunned the onlookers—few expected such sincerity from a man visiting purely for business.
Mrs. Fujimura asked in fluent English, curiosity and sweetness in her tone."But this map… its borders look different from the India we know today. What is it meant to show?"
The map displayed a vast empire: India stretched with Afghanistan and Pakistan in the west, Nepal, Bhutan, and parts of Myanmar in the east, all of Kashmir intact, though few southern states were missing.
Ishita smiled with pride."This represents the Mauryan Empire, around 270 BCE—India at its peak."
Even Rohit felt a thrill. Some fragments of memory stirred within him, but the details were vague. To him, too, it was almost new—a glimpse of India's forgotten grandeur.
Mrs. Fujimura's eyes widened in admiration."I never knew India once held such power. In our history, we only knew it as the birthplace of Buddhism."
Her husband added thoughtfully,"Yes… in Japan, even around the 10th century, we called India 'Tenjiku;—the Land of Heaven. But I must confess, we never knew about the Mauryans. Only that Buddhism came from here. It is a shame we know so little."
Ishita's expression lit with pride."Indian history runs deeper than most realize. Emperor Ashoka was revered as a Dharma King—called 'the Great' among all who ruled this land."
Before the admiration could settle, a new voice cut through.
"And yet," Danesh Ahuja said smoothly, his smile polite but his tone edged, "the world forgets the legacy he left behind—foolish tactics that weakened his empire and long legacy of indians suffering."
The words hung in the air. A faint mockery lay beneath the civility, leaving Rohit—and the others—perplexed. Why would Danesh undercut India's pride in front of the Japanese? What game was he playing?
Danesh inclined his head, his smile polite but razor-sharp."My apologies for intruding. But I couldn't resist correcting the… over-praise for a king unworthy of such lofty regard."
Ishita's eyes narrowed. She snapped before she could stop herself."Mr. Danesh, perhaps you should keep your opinions to yourself—and remember this is not your private yacht."The familiarity in her tone betrayed an old rivalry.
Masato Fujimura, however, raised a calming hand."Please, let him speak. I am curious to know more of the Mauryans and this king."
Danesh's smile widened into something rehearsed."The map you see here was made possible not by Ashoka, but by his grandfather, Chandragupta Maurya." His tone carried genuine pride."Chandragupta was a commoner who toppled the Nandas and built an empire from scratch, expanding it across northern India to almost whole subcontinent. But his so-called 'great' grandson Ashoka? After one bloody war with a small neighbor, he suddenly renounced conquest, disbanded his army in the name of dharma… and what followed? Decline and long last history of india being invaded by foreginers be it Huns or Kushas. "
He gestured toward the crowd, his voice carrying."Within fifty years, the empire fractured into petty kingdoms. His descendent's own general was forced to overthrew him in disgust.
And yet historians crown him 'the Great'—not for strength, but because they wanted to portray India as a soft power, never ambitious and stay restrained. That, Mr. Fujimura, is the true history."
The room shifted. Rohit understood now—since Ishita had taken the positive angle, Danesh was tactically seizing the negative, trying to turn the spotlight onto himself.
Ishita was not done here as she stated, "that's just a side story with mix of favoristism of hypernationalistic ideals."
Hypernational ideals were actually looked down upon since countries like German and even Japan had gone beyond evil by follwoing this ideals. And the words has visible impact on Masato as he looked on Ishita to add more.
Encouraged by the paused silence and onlookers interest, Ishita continued, now addressing the hall.
" Yes, the empire declined after Ashoka. But greatness is measured by legacy, not longevity. For forty years after Kalinga, he ruled with dharma. He ended unjust persecution, promoted nonviolence and tolerance, funded schools, canals, and hospitals. He embraced Buddhism, yes—but supported all faiths. His missionaries carried these ideals across Asia, even to Japan.
Tell me, is that not reason enough to call him Great?"
Her passion stirred the crowd. Several guests clapped softly with their admiration rising in vibe.
Danesh clapped too but he clapped louder, mockingly."Well said. But we're missing the real piece here."
Mrs. Fujimura tilted her head. and asked unable to supress her curiosity, "And what is that?"
Danesh used hand gesture, grabbing everyone attention.
" We praise Ashoka for spreading Buddhism. But do we forget others who carried the torch farther?
How many here know the name Bodhidharma—the Pallava prince? who left India, traveled to China, and founded the Shaolin martial tradition itself? The very roots of martial arts the world reveres today as Kungfu."
A ripple of shock spread. The name was unfamiliar to most.
Even Ishita faltered; her schooling had never covered such a figure. Guests began murmuring, whispering, asking one another if the claim was true.
Rohit's mind sparked. Holy shit. history is going deep..
Masato's eyes sharpened—he did know."Yes… Bodhidharma, or Daruma, as we call him. He is remembered in Japan. You surprise me, young man. Please, explain further."
Danesh bowed slightly, savoring the reversal of momentum."Not much, sir, but I will try."His polite smile concealed a predator's satisfaction. The duel had shifted again.