The ceiling fan hummed above him, its rhythm steady, almost meditative. Arjun sat at the desk of his small lodge room, notebook open before him, pen poised. Yesterday had been the clean break—the resignation letter, the return of his company laptop, the walk away from Synapse. For most, that would have been a terrifying leap into uncertainty. For Arjun, it felt like the first breath of freedom he had taken in years.
On the top of a fresh page, he wrote slowly, deliberately:
Rule #12: A man without a system will always belong to someone else's.
He tapped the pen twice against the notebook, letting the words settle.
He no longer belonged to Synapse. He no longer belonged to his family name. He belonged to something greater now—something that had chosen him on that street when his body was broken and his spirit nearly crushed. The Equalizer System was not a crutch. It was a foundation.
Today, he would build his first pillar on it.
He stood, stretched, and slipped into the city morning. The street outside buzzed with scooters, hawkers, and delivery vans. He walked to the nearest corner shop and picked up a sleek ₹10 water bottle, refillable, sturdier than the plastic ones he usually bought. A small luxury, but it felt right.
Sequence Step 1: ₹10 → VALID.Earn Rate: ₹10/second.
Next, at a stationery shop, he ran his fingers across rows of notebooks until he found one bound in faux leather, pages thick and smooth. He bought it for ₹100. This would not be just a notebook—it would be his ledger of change.
Sequence Step 2: ₹100 → VALID.Earn Rate: ₹100/second.
From there, he went to a coworking space in Indiranagar. The receptionist smiled politely as he paid ₹1,000 for a desk for the day. He sat among strangers hunched over laptops, the smell of filter coffee sharp in the air, the tap-tap of keyboards forming a kind of music.
And then it happened.
The Equalizer overlay pulsed into his vision.
Sequence Step 3 Complete.Minor Equalizer Draw: Passive Slot Expansion Unlocked.
A holographic wheel spun in the air before him, colors whirling, symbols flashing—scales, coins, keys, ledgers. It slowed, clicked, and stopped.
Result: Passive Slot Unlock.
A shimmering box appeared, glowing faintly blue, like a digital treasure chest.
It opened.
You now have 3 Passive Action Slots. Assign utilities of your choice.
Arjun leaned back, heart quickening. "Passive slots… assistants?"
Options unfurled before him like a menu: Assistant, Research, Logistics, Audit, Information Gathering, Alerts, Translation.
He considered carefully.
Slot 1 → Assistant Module. "I need someone—or something—to help me coordinate. A secretary in my mind. Someone who can remind me, draft letters, track minutes."
Slot 2 → Research Module. "Knowledge is leverage. I'll need instant access to contact details, company filings, financial histories, background checks."
Slot 3 → [Empty]. He left it open. "Never fill all your chambers at once. I'll know when the time is right."
The Equalizer's voice confirmed:
Passive Actions Assigned.Slot 1: Assistant (Active).Slot 2: Research (Active).Slot 3: Empty (Available).
Immediately, he felt a subtle shift in perception. A quiet presence hummed at the back of his mind—the Assistant, waiting to be directed. And a stream of potential data, like invisible bookshelves ready to be browsed—the Research module.
For the first time in his life, Arjun didn't feel like one man fighting against the tide. He felt like a unit.
And now, it was time to escalate further.
At the Imperial Hotel on MG Road, he booked a conference hall for ₹10,000. Spacious, air-conditioned, lined with white-draped chairs and a polished wood table. Hospitality staff nodded respectfully.
Sequence Step 4: ₹10,000 → VALID.Earn Rate: ₹10,000/second.
Tomorrow, this hall would host his first council.
That evening, Arjun sat at the coworking desk again, this time leaning into the Research Module.
"Find me independent financial advisors in Bangalore," he whispered.
Names and profiles flowed instantly: qualifications, client feedback, specialties. He paused on one: Ramesh Iyer, 46. Ex-corporate consultant, now independent. Known for fairness, clean record, and conservative but reliable strategies.
"Contact him," Arjun instructed.
Next: "Find stock brokers with NSE/BSE access, preferably those who also mentor small investors."
Three names lit up. He chose one: Nikhil Sethi, 32. Runs a small brokerage firm, ambitious, aggressive, but with a reputation for transparency.
Finally: "Find small business owners in Bangalore struggling financially but with strong fundamentals."
Dozens of results appeared. He shortlisted four:
Ravi (textiles, looms breaking down).
Sunita (cafés, pandemic recovery).
Harish (electronics shop, burglary losses).
Deepak (transport company, overdue repairs).
Arjun wired each of them ₹20,000 in advance, with a simple message:
Meet me tomorrow, 10 AM, The Imperial Hotel, Conference Hall B. Come prepared to discuss opportunities. – Arjun Malhotra.
He leaned back. The Assistant Module confirmed: Invitations sent. Confirmations received.
Everything was set.
Morning sunlight poured through tall windows as Arjun walked into the hall. The tables gleamed, chairs perfectly aligned, a buffet of tea and biscuits waiting at the side.
He wore a crisp shirt and clean trousers—professional, but not flashy. He had no interest in impressing with wealth. He wanted respect earned from clarity.
At 9:55, the first knock came.
The broker entered—Nikhil, sharp-eyed, dressed in a slim suit, carrying restless energy. He glanced around, curious but skeptical.
At 10:05, the advisor arrived—Ramesh, hair flecked with grey, expression calm, eyes observant.
By 10:15, the small business owners trickled in, faces lined with worry and exhaustion but also hope. Their hands bore callouses, their clothes were pressed but plain.
Arjun greeted each one personally, offering refreshments. Respect first, trust later.
When all were seated, he stood at the head of the table.
"My name is Arjun Malhotra," he said evenly. "I am an independent investor. I'm not here for charity. I'm here for systems. Yesterday, you each received ₹20,000 from me. That was not a gift. It was a test."
He let silence settle.
"You showed up. That means you value opportunity. Today, we discuss how far you're willing to go for accountability."
They spoke one by one.
Ravi, voice rough with years in factories, explained his looms were failing. With ₹50 lakh, he could buy new ones and fulfill orders waiting to be processed. "If I can't replace them this month, I'll lose contracts I've held for a decade."
Sunita, younger, nervous but determined, admitted her café chain was suffocating. She needed ₹10 lakh to restock supplies and pay overdue salaries. "My staff has stayed even without pay. If I can't pay them soon, they'll leave. Then the cafés die."
Harish, quiet, almost ashamed, described his burglary. His electronics shop had been stripped bare. He needed ₹30 lakh to restock essential goods. "My customers keep coming, but I have nothing to sell them."
Deepak, heavyset, hands thick with grease, spoke of his three trucks. Engines broken, permits unpaid. With ₹70 lakh, he could repair them and renew paperwork. "Right now they sit idle, rusting. Each day is money lost."
The room carried their desperation like a heavy cloud.
Arjun didn't flinch. He gestured to Ramesh. "Document everything. Tomorrow, I want structured proposals. Risk assessments. Repayment or equity options. No stories—just numbers."
Ramesh nodded, typing quickly.
The business owners looked at Arjun with cautious awe. Someone had listened, but not indulged.
During the tea break, Arjun pulled Nikhil aside.
"I don't want blue-chips," Arjun said. "Not Reliance. Not Infosys. Not TCS. I want underdogs. Low-volume, low-performing stocks. The ones everyone ignores."
Nikhil blinked. "Sir, those are risky. They bleed money."
"Good," Arjun replied. "I want a list of every such stock on NSE and BSE. Tomorrow, I expect a full report one hour before market opens. You and I will meet then."
Nikhil hesitated. "And capital?"
Arjun's eyes locked on his. "Tomorrow, you'll manage ₹1 crore for one day. Show me what you can do. If you succeed, I'll scale. If you fail, you walk away. Bring colleagues you trust—I'll give them the same chance."
Nikhil's breath hitched. A crore, entrusted just like that? His fingers twitched with excitement. "Yes, sir. I'll deliver."
Back at the table, Arjun addressed Ramesh directly.
"Your task is to consolidate every business proposal. Build me a portfolio. Assess risks. Split equity versus debt. Project numbers for six months, twelve months, five years. Transparency. No guesswork. I want clarity."
Ramesh studied him for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "You'll have it by tomorrow afternoon."
Arjun stood once more.
"This is not about quick profits," he said, voice calm but firm. "This is about systems that stand. If you want shortcuts, find someone else. If you want structure, stay with me. I will invest—but you will be accountable."
No one moved. No one left.
"Good," Arjun said quietly. "Then tomorrow, we begin."
The meeting dissolved. The attendees left murmuring, some nervous, some excited.
Arjun lingered, gazing out at the city skyline—the glass towers, the bustling roads, the unseen networks of money and power that ran beneath it all.
Then the Equalizer pulsed sharply across his vision.
ALERT: Host presence has attracted external attention.Observation risk: HIGH. Surveillance detected.
Arjun's jaw tightened. His rise had not gone unnoticed. Someone was already watching.
And the real test was only just beginning.