Aisha Siddiqui's face, already pale with exhaustion, flushed a deep, angry red. Her eyes, which Arjun had admired for their intelligence, now blazed with the fury of a deeply righteous person who had just been humiliated.
She didn't just feel insulted; she felt seen. The words "broke" and "evicted" were a private shame she'd carried for weeks.
"You... you little...!" She stood so fast her chair scraped loudly on the floor, drawing stares from around the canteen. "Who do you think you are? Is this some kind of cruel prank? Who sent you?"
Radha Varma was mortified. She immediately stepped in front of Arjun, her hands raised as if to ward off a blow. "I am so, so sorry, madam! Please, forgive him! My son, he... he hasn't been well. He fainted at school, and ever since, he says things... please, we will leave, I am so sorry..."
She grabbed Arjun's arm, trying to pull him away, but he stood firm, his small feet planted on the ground.
"Mom, please wait," he said, his voice calm. He never took his eyes off Aisha. "This is not a prank."
Aisha, still trembling with rage, was about to call for security. "Get lost. Both of you. Now."
"Your office," Arjun said, his voice cutting through her anger like a knife. "Suite #214, Akbar Towers. The building on the corner with the faulty lift. Your rent is two thousand rupees a month. You are three months behind. Your landlord, Mr. Harish, gave you a final notice this morning, didn't he? He said you have 48 hours, or he'll have you thrown out."
Aisha stopped breathing.
This wasn't a guess. This wasn't a prank. This was a surgical presentation of her most private, terrifying secrets. Her fury dissolved instantly, replaced by a cold, prickling fear.
"How...?" she whispered, her voice failing her. "How do you know that? Are you... are you stalking me?"
"I don't stalk. I do my homework," Arjun said, his 12-year-old face a mask of impossible seriousness. "I told you, I need the right lawyer. Not a rich one, not a famous one. I need a hungry one. I need one who is brilliant enough to see this opportunity and desperate enough to take it."
Aisha's S-Rank legal mind, though stunned, began to reboot. This was a puzzle. She forced herself to analyze the facts, pushing past the terror.
A 12-year-old boy. His mother, a poor teacher. They know her private details. They are offering her a high-stakes corporate case. It made no sense.
"You're a child," she said, testing him. "Your mother is a teacher. And the CEO of Bharat-Tech... Prakash Murthy... is giving you 30% of his company. Why?"
"Because I am worth it," Arjun said simply. "I gave him a piece of software that saved his company from bankruptcy. He's paying the price for the architect."
Aisha was still reeling. "And what if I say no?"
"Then you'll be evicted," Arjun said, brutally honest. "And Mr. Murthy's high-priced lawyers will write a contract that 'gives' my mother 30% on page one, but binds her in hidden clauses, non-competes, and personal liabilities on page twelve. He will steal back in legal fees what he gave us in equity."
He stepped closer, and his voice dropped. "I'm not a lawyer. My mother is a teacher. We are lambs, and he is a wolf. I need a righteous lawyer to protect my mother's interests. I need a lioness."
He hit her right where he knew her 95/100 Integrity lived. He wasn't just offering her a case to pay her rent. He was offering her the one thing her idealistic soul craved: a just fight. A chance to protect the weak from the powerful.
It was the S-Rank test. And she passed.
Aisha stared at him, her mind racing. It was insane. It was unethical. It was... the single most important case she would ever see.
"If this is a joke, kid..." she said, her voice a low warning.
"It's not," Arjun said. "Mr. Murthy's courier will deliver the draft contract to your office—#214, Akbar Towers—by 5 PM today. All you have to do is be there to receive it."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled envelope. It contained ₹500. All the money he had in the world, saved from old birthday gifts and small change. He placed it on the table.
"This is the retainer. For your time."
Aisha looked at the paltry sum. A week ago, she would have thrown it in his face as an insult. Today, it was a lifeline.
She didn't take the money.
"I will be in my office at 5 PM," she said, her voice all business. "If a courier arrives, I will read the contract. And then we will discuss my fee."
She turned, picked up her file and her cold idli, and walked away, her entire world tilted on its axis.
Radha Varma looked at her son, her hands trembling. "Arjun... how did you... all those things... about her rent...?"
Arjun picked up the envelope of money and tucked it back in his pocket. He'd need it for the auto-rickshaw.
"I told you, Mom," he said, taking her hand. "I just see the connections."
He had done it. His first S-Rank ally, the future S-Rank politician, was hooked. The first piece of his "harem" was on the board.