Time: 10:00 AM
Date: December 1, 2025
Location: Shiva's Bungalow (Living Area & Garden)
The winter sun in Delhi usually brings a certain stillness, but today, the peace in Shiva's bungalow was of a different magnitude. The combination of last night's heavy, ghee-laden dinner and Adiraj's mana-suppression grid had worked wonders. Fourteen of the world's most dangerous S-Rank Hunters, who spent their lives on high alert in lethal battlefields, had experienced a depth of sleep they hadn't known in years. Their internal "threat sensors" were completely dormant.
By 10:00 AM, the foreign guests began to emerge, refreshed, and gathered once more at the massive dining table. They had expected a light, continental breakfast—perhaps some toast, butter, and boiled eggs to suit their high-performance metabolisms. But this wasn't a 5-star hotel; it was an authentic Indian household. Here, breakfast is a full-scale offensive.
The dining hall was saturated with the aroma of hot oil, spices, and fresh coriander. On one side were golden, crispy Samosas and spicy Kachoris. Opposite them sat soft, spongy Dhokla. For a South-Indian touch, there were steaming Idlis, paper-thin Dosas, and a variety of coconut, tomato, and mint chutneys. At the center sat a massive bowl of aromatic Sambhar, its scent alone enough to double one's appetite.
"This... is breakfast?" Alistair Sterling (UK) asked, staring at the two kachoris already on his plate. "I thought we'd be in fasting mode this morning."
"Just eat, man," Jin-Woo Park (Korea) replied, drizzling chutney over his Dosa. "You should have realized last night that the word 'diet' doesn't exist in this house."
And of course, no Indian morning is complete without Chai. Two varieties were served strategically: a strong, golden-brown milk tea infused with ginger, cardamom, and cloves, and a robust black tea to balance the palates of the foreign guests. The S-Rankers, usually fueled by expensive black coffee, found themselves savoring the aromatic tea, constantly pushed by the elders to "have just a little more."
The Loophole of Peace
At the end of the table sat Adiraj. The Rank 8 tactician, whose routine normally began at 5:00 AM, found himself completely off-schedule. The "food coma" had claimed even him, and he had woken up too late for his usual tactical sweep.
There was a logical reason for his lack of awareness: Adiraj didn't have his phone. The previous night, before dinner, he had placed it on a side table in the hall and switched it to vibration mode. This wasn't a mistake—it was the "Pooja Rule." Shiva's sister had strictly enforced a "no work, no loud ringtones" policy during family time. Even a mastermind like Adiraj obeyed his sister like a common younger brother. The phone had vibrated throughout the night, unnoticed and unheard.
Finishing his breakfast, Adiraj took a final sip of black tea and walked into the living hall. He sank into a comfortable leather sofa, finally reaching for his mobile.
"Let's see what's happening in the world," he thought.
The Red Alert Realization
As soon as the screen flickered to life, Adiraj's pupils constricted. The warmth in his stomach turned into a cold, sharp tension. His entire demeanor shifted from a relaxed "brother" back into an S-Rank strategist.
The screen was flooded with dozens of missed calls and encrypted Red Alert messages from the N.D.A.I. All of them had originated between 2:00 AM and 3:00 AM.
He opened the top message, his eyes scanning the report with surgical speed:
CRITICAL ALERT: Unauthorized entry in secured airspace. The Apex Syndicate's private stealth jet landed at 02:15 AM. Radars detected exactly TWO S-Rank signatures disembarking. Awaiting orders for interception.
Adiraj's mind began calculating at superhuman speeds. Six Apex heavyweights were still missing. If only "two" signatures had been detected, the logic was clear.
"Victor Stellar and Ivan Volkov," Adiraj thought, his jaw tightening. He assumed their arrogance had led them to bypass diplomatic protocol and land under the cover of night. This was a massive security headache. The N.D.A.I. was paralyzed, waiting for his command.
Without wasting a second, Adiraj stood up, dialing the officials back to deploy Garud Vajra teams to handle the intruders.
The Garden Reality Check
Dialing the number, Adiraj headed for the glass door leading to the garden. He instinctively wanted to check on Dada-ji, to ensure the patriarch was kept away from any potential conflict.
But as he looked through the glass, Adiraj froze. The phone, halfway to his ear, stopped in mid-air.
In the soft, golden morning light, Dada-ji sat in his armchair. And right in front of him, sitting casually on the green grass, were four people.
There was no sign of Victor Stellar or Ivan Volkov. Adiraj's hyper-focused eyes recognized them instantly. The first two were:
Genevieve Roux (Rank 12): The elegant mother-figure of Apex.
Maya Lin (Rank 18): The energetic spark.
These were the "two" signatures the radars had detected. But they weren't why Adiraj's breath hitched.
Sitting beside them, looking entirely mundane, was Mason Steele. The Rank 1 Hunter in the world. The absolute mastermind of the Apex Syndicate. He had masked his terrifying power so seamlessly that the most advanced radar system in India hadn't detected him at all.
And right next to Mason sat Jon.
Jon, Mason's best friend and emotional anchor. Jon had 0 MP. He was a completely ordinary human. Radars detect mana, and since Jon had none, he simply didn't exist to the sensors. Adiraj's logic finally clicked: the system had only reported "two" signatures because it literally couldn't "see" the other two.
The Sovereign Roast
Adiraj was still processing this massive failure of his security system when Dada-ji's voice boomed through the glass, loud and scolding.
"Is there some new disease going around in foreign countries these days?" Dada-ji demanded, gesturing with his cane at the four of them. "Every single one of you looks like a bag of bones!"
He pointed his cane directly at Mason Steele (Rank 1) and Jon. "And you two useless boys! I fed you so much last time you were here. I thought you'd finally put on some weight. But look at you—skinnier than before! Do you not eat anything over there?"
Adiraj's throat went dry. A humble Indian grandfather was calling the most dangerous man on the planet "useless."
"Listen well," Dada-ji gave his strict ultimatum. "This time, I'm going to have to feed you even more. You're not leaving this house until you've put on some real muscle!"
Hearing this unfiltered scolding, the four individuals—including the most powerful Dunger on Earth—burst into laughter. There was no S-Rank ego, no mystery.
Jon, despite having 0 MP, looked the most comfortable. He gave a mischievous, "Desi" smile, bowed his head slightly, and replied, "As you command, Sarkar!"
Mason laughed along, nodding in agreement.
Adiraj stood behind the glass door, watched for a moment, and then slowly switched his phone off and put it in his pocket. There was no point in calling the N.D.A.I. now. The world's top anomalies were in his garden, getting scolded by his grandfather and accepting it with joy.
Diplomacy and war strategies had just become obsolete. Adiraj took a deep breath and prepared himself for this new reality.
Chapter Summary
The Breakfast Trap: The S-Rankers are introduced to the "no-diet" culture of an Indian breakfast, replacing their mana-rations with Dosas and Kachoris.
Security Breach: The N.D.A.I. reports an unauthorized landing, but their radars are fooled by Mason Steele's masking and Jon's 0 MP status.
The Power of Zero: It is revealed that Jon is a 0 MP human, making him the ultimate "ghost" to mana-based detection systems.
The Patriarch's Dominance: Dada-ji humbles the Rank 1 Hunter (Mason Steele) by roasting him for being "too thin," further establishing the domestic hierarchy.