The June 1610 sun bathed Surat's beachfront in golden light, the Tapti River sparkling as the Vora Trading Company complex hummed with triumph. The grand opening of the medicine shop, clothing store, and glassware shop had set Surat ablaze, with Emperor Jahangir's ribbon-cutting and praise still echoing in the ears of hundreds of nobles, merchants, and Mughal officials. For three days, the Vora Grand Hotel—its glass panels and balconies gleaming—hosted Jahangir in its top-floor royal suite, while high-ranking nobles, including Vikram Singh, filled the seaside 3-BHK flats. The restaurant's butter chicken and spicy biryani, crafted by Rajan, drew nightly crowds, and the shops' wares—Surat's Elixir, Vora's Durable Thread, Kofi's glassware—sold faster than workers could restock. Jai Vora, nine years old but sharp as a Mughal khanda, watched his empire shine, the Emperor System, his secret AI-spirit guide, buzzing: "Three days of imperial love? Kid, you've got Jahangir eating out of your hand."
Each morning, Jai, Anil, Leela, and their followers—Sarita, Ravi, Manoj, Shashi, Kali, Vikram, Ram, Annu, and Kofi—guided nobles through the complex. The medicine shop's glass vials, filled with Pain's Whisper, Heart's Guardian, and Surat's Elixir, sparked awe. "These heal fevers in days," Leela explained to a noble from Agra, who clutched a vial, eyes wide. The clothing store, its racks of denim shirts and jackets in S to XXL, drew gasps. Ravi, handing a jacket to a Delhi merchant, said, "Vora's Durable Thread—strong as armor, fit for any man." The glassware shop, with Kofi's plates and bowls glinting like jewels, left courtiers speechless. A noble from Ahmedabad murmured, "This glass could grace the emperor's table."
Jahangir, strolling the seaside flats with Jai and Vikram Singh, marveled at the 3-BHK model's sea view. "Jai, your apartments rival my palaces—glass windows, spacious rooms. Surat is fortunate." Vikram, his voice warm, added, "Vora's ingenuity lifts your empire, Majesty." At Vora Heights' 4-BHK model, its stone walls and Tapti view drew Jahangir's nod. "These homes will draw nobles to Surat," he said, his approval a golden seal. The system pinged: "Nobles drooling, emperor starry-eyed? You're rewriting Surat's map, kid."
The restaurant, its top-floor private rooms secure under Amir's guard, hosted nightly feasts. Jahangir, savoring Rajan's Food, laughed with nobles, his praise for Vora's cuisine spreading. "This food," he told Jai, "must reach Agra." Merchants struck deals over sherbet, their coins piling high, while the blacksmith shop's swords and tools flew off shelves, Kofi's forge a constant roar. The nobles, from Agra to Delhi, whispered of Vora's genius, their loyalty shifting to Jai's banner.
On the third day, as the sun dipped low, Jahangir prepared to depart, his entourage assembling in the courtyard. Nobles, their carts laden with Vora's goods, joined him, their murmurs of admiration a chorus. Jai, Anil, Leela, and the team stood ready, their hearts pounding. Jahangir, his robes shimmering, gestured to a carved chest, heavy with silver coins—thousands, glinting like stars. "Jai Vora," he declared, his voice carrying, "this is my gift. Your shops, your homes, your vision honor my empire. Take these coins—build more, in Ahmedabad, Agra, and beyond."
Jai bowed low, his Charm cloaking his thrill. "Your Majesty, your generosity is our crown. Vora will rise to your task." Anil and Leela, bowing beside him, echoed, "We are honored, Majesty." Vikram Singh, smiling, clapped Jai's shoulder. "You've earned this, young lion." The emperor mounted his horse, his gaze warm. "Surat is yours, Jai. My court awaits your next marvels." As the procession rode out, nobles following, the Vora team bowed, their farewell a vow to soar higher.
Jai, clutching the chest's key, gathered his followers in the now-quiet courtyard. "Three thousand coins spent to host the emperor," he said, his voice fierce, "and thousands more gained. We start now—restaurants and shops in Ahmedabad, Agra, every Mughal city. Vora's empire begins." Sarita, her eyes bright, nodded. "We'll plan tomorrow—locations, workers." Ravi added, "The clothing shop's ready to scale." Shashi and Kali, eyeing Vora Heights' foundations, said, "The apartments next." The system buzzed: "Silver chest and a Mughal mandate? Kid, you're bankrolled for domination. Keep those EIC snakes at bay."
As night fell, Jai stood by the Tapti, the river's glow mirroring his ambition. With Jahangir's coins and blessing, Vora's future gleamed, but the EIC's shadow in Masulipatnam and Surat whispered of battles to come.