The room slowly fell into silence.
The aggressive voices, the furious bidding, the clashing egos—all of it faded, leaving behind an invisible pressure that weighed heavily on everyone present. The number 30 crore still echoed in their minds, but strangely, it no longer felt powerful.
Leonard sat back in his chair, gripping the armrest, his joy already turning hollow. Hector Vane narrowed his eyes, recalculating something deep within. Henry Law stood quietly, hands behind his back, observing—not the medicine, but PK.
Silas glanced at PK once more. For the first time, he realized this wasn't a young man playing games. This was someone deciding outcomes.
PK took a slow step forward.
His posture was relaxed, his expression calm—too calm for someone standing in the middle of powerful families and enormous wealth. He looked at the old men, one by one, not with arrogance, but with certainty.
"Let me be clear," PK said evenly.
"This is not a market."
The words landed heavily.
Leonard frowned. Hector leaned forward slightly. Even Silas stiffened.
"The medicine you saw today," PK continued, "is not something you can line up and buy. No matter how much money you throw at it."
He paused deliberately.
"There will be no bulk sales. No second dose today. And no promises made in advance."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Leonard's voice rose, unable to hold back.
"Then what was the bidding for? You let us fight like fools!"
PK turned his gaze toward him—sharp, controlled, and cold.
"You bid," PK replied calmly, "because you assumed money gives you control."
Leonard clenched his jaw.
PK's voice did not rise, yet it dominated the room.
"I decide who gets access. I decide when. And I decide why."
Hector Vane exhaled slowly. His excitement was still there, but it had changed—this was no longer about money. This was about leverage.
Henry Law's eyes flickered with understanding.
Silas remained silent, his heart pounding. He felt proud—yet unsettled. Even he, a man of stature and influence, realized he was not fully in control anymore.
Leonard tried again, his tone sharp.
"So what do you want then?"
PK smiled faintly—not in amusement, but in certainty.
"This medicine," he said, "is not for sale."
The words struck harder than any insult.
"Access to it," PK continued, "is earned."
No explanation followed.
The room reacted instantly.
Leonard's face darkened, humiliated and angry, struggling to suppress his frustration. Paying thirty crores and still being dictated to was something he had never experienced.
Hector Vane, on the other hand, leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. His excitement was no longer loud—it was strategic. He had realized something important: PK wasn't collecting wealth. He was collecting influence.
Henry Law nodded slightly, respect flickering across his face. He had lived long enough to recognize this type of person—someone who didn't rush, didn't beg, and didn't need validation.
Silas finally spoke, his voice low.
"PK… what happens next?"
PK turned toward him, respectful but firm.
"Next," he said, "you all decide whether you want to keep treating this like a deal—or understand that you're standing at the edge of something much bigger."
No threats.
No promises.
Just truth.
And that frightened them more than any raised voice ever could.