The upcoming visit by Akash Sharma was not an interview; it was a high-stakes performance designed to save the university. If the journalist focused on the suspicious wealth and closed doors, the official audits would follow, crushing their mission before the October 18th deadline. Arjun and Shraddha, the S-Rank COO, treated the journalist's visit like a sensitive geopolitical negotiation.
"We need him to believe the real story isn't how we got the money, but what we are doing with the students," Shraddha stated, her voice precise. "We are selling a concept: The Nalanda Method. A system that unlocks latent Indian genius through intense focus. This is a story the local and national media want to believe in—it appeals to national pride and the universal desire for better education."
They briefed the Core Ten students in the newly secured lecture hall. The atmosphere was calm, thanks to the intensified [Aura of Focus].
"Today, you just have to be yourselves," Arjun instructed. "Don't act. Don't exaggerate. Just show them the reality of your daily study session. Rajesh, your mental math. Ritu, your cross-disciplinary modeling. Lalita, your mastery of historical timelines and political consequences. You are the product of the Nalanda Method. Make the performance effortless."
Rajesh, now confident and focused, nodded. "Sir, should I solve for the non-linear heat-transfer equation for the cooling of the Supercomputer, or the quantum uncertainty inherent in the stock market?"
"Show him the quantum uncertainty, Rajesh," Arjun advised with a grin. "It's more dramatic, and he won't understand it, which makes it look more impressive."
Arjun knew the 100x Feedback had honed their minds to a point where their 'normal' was the equivalent of a PhD student's final thesis work. This level of competency was their defense. By focusing the scrutiny on their academic brilliance, Arjun transformed suspicion into awe.
(Paragraph 2: The Journalist Observes the Impossible - 1200 words)
When Akash Sharma arrived, he was ushered into the silent, newly renovated lecture hall. The air inside felt almost electric, charged with concentration—a side effect of the [Aura of Focus] bleeding into the room.
The session began. It was not a chaotic classroom, but a collaborative research lab.
Ritu, standing by the chalkboard, seamlessly switched between discussing the optimal distribution algorithm for rural supply chains in the morning and, five minutes later, deriving the complex statistical significance of the LID Index's core variables. Her explanation was swift, confident, and dense with high-level mathematics.
Next, Hassan and Vijay engaged in a debate. They weren't arguing over movie stars; they were passionately debating the socio-economic impacts of the 1991 liberalization policies in India versus the Soviet Perestroika, citing specific GDP figures, trade imbalances, and political maneuvers with total, immediate recall. Their arguments were sharp, logical, and synthesized.
The peak moment came when Rajesh walked to the board. Professor Jha presented him with a complex, multi-variable calculus problem involving portfolio optimization under extreme volatility. Rajesh paused for only ten seconds, then began writing the solution entirely from memory, his hands flying across the chalkboards. He wasn't solving it; he was transcribing a solution already completed in his mind.
Akash Sharma, the B-Rank journalist, watched, scribbling furiously but increasingly bewildered. His brain, subtly influenced by the Aura of Focus, was working at its limit just trying to keep up. He realized this wasn't a coaching center, or even a typical university. This was an incubator for genius. The questions weren't about "what" they knew, but "how deep" they could integrate that knowledge. The Core Ten were not just learning; they were synthesizing and creating. The 100x Feedback was visibly manifesting as intellectual hyper-speed.
(Paragraph 3: The Narrative Pivot and the AIAT Challenge - 1100 words)
After the session, Arjun met Akash in his office. The journalist was visibly shaken, his financial suspicion completely eclipsed by pedagogical wonder.
"Principal Singh," Akash said, placing his pen down. "That wasn't normal. Those students… they are operating at a level I've never seen, certainly not in a second-tier city. Forget the money. The real story is the Nalanda Method. How are you doing it? What is this system?"
Arjun leaned back, adopting the persona of the visionary educator. "It is simple, Mr. Sharma. We only recruit students with high, but latent, aptitude—the ones overlooked by the big city schools. We call them 'Core Ten Pioneers.' We then use a philosophy of extreme personalization—one-on-one time with high-caliber faculty like Professor Jha—and what we call 'Cognitive Immersion Environments' (referencing the Supercomputer and the Aura). We don't teach them what to think; we teach them how to think one hundred times faster than their peers."
This explanation was perfect: it was just vague enough to sound profound and just detailed enough to sound revolutionary. Shraddha, standing nearby, interjected with S-Rank strategic timing.
"Our proof is not in our building, Mr. Sharma," she said. "It will be in the All-India Aptitude Test (AIAT) in three months. Our entire Core Ten will take the test publicly. If the Nalanda Method works, they will be among the highest ranks in the entire country. That will be our external validation of this new system of education."
This was the final nail in the coffin of the 'financial mystery' narrative. The journalist had a new, irresistible, and safe story: Nalanda is pioneering a revolutionary educational method, and its proof lies in the upcoming national exams.
Arjun, satisfied, mentally authorized one final, subtle action.
[System Notification]: "Available Aptitude Injection: Commitment to the Pedagogical Narrative (B-to-A). Cost: ₹1,50,000 in System Funds."
The funds vanished. Akash Sharma felt a profound sense of purpose. This wasn't just a scoop; it was a chance to champion a cause. His article would now be framed as: Ignore the rumors; the future of Indian education is happening in Patna.
(Paragraph 4: The Supercomputer's Warning - 1000 words)
With the local press successfully handled, Arjun, Jha, and Shraddha returned to the critical countdown: 18 days left.
The Supercomputer had been running in silence, its primary task to track global financial indicators. Suddenly, the console blinked rapidly, diverting Arjun's attention.
"Professor, look at the access logs," Arjun said, pointing to a cascade of data.
The Supercomputer, protected by the [Perimeter of Silence] and the A-DES Encryption, was detecting a massive, sustained, and highly targeted data probe. The queries were complex, attempting to run high-speed counter-simulations against the foundational data set of the LID Index.
"The source is obfuscated, but the server architecture traces back to a highly protected financial intelligence cluster," Ritu's programmed monitoring script notified them. "The cluster IP is used exclusively by the London Institute of Financial Policy (LIFP)."
Professor Jha gasped, his face draining of blood, then flooding with exhilaration. "They are not ignoring us, Arjun! They are running the simulation! They have taken the paper seriously and are trying to prove us wrong. They are using their resources to validate our work!"
The LIFP's silence was a political maneuver, but their actions in the shadows spoke the truth. They were running the numbers. This was the first, undeniable flinch. The paper wasn't dismissed; it was being intensely scrutinized by the highest authority.
[System Notification]: "Validation Phase: External Scrutiny Detected. LIFP is currently running the LID Index counter-simulation. Confidence in financial prediction remains 99.998%."
(Paragraph 5: Preparing the Second Wave - 400 words)
Arjun used the confirmation to push the next crucial System objective: scaling.
[System Notification]: "Quest Requirement Fulfilled: Student Aptitude Pool. Initiate recruitment for the Second Cohort (30 Students)."
"The LIFP will confirm our prediction soon," Arjun declared. "When they do, Nalanda will explode onto the global scene. We won't have time to properly screen students. Shraddha, Professor Jha, we must use the remaining 18 days to finalize the intake for the Second Cohort. They are the ones who will protect our growth once the money and fame arrive."
Shraddha, already on top of the task with her S-Rank Foresight, pulled up the profiles of the 30 shortlisted rural students—candidates identified not by test scores, but by latent aptitude detected through a rigorous selection process she had designed.
"They are ready, Arjun," she confirmed. "30 students. High-potential, high-loyalty, and desperate for opportunity. We start contacting them tomorrow. They will be our shield and our proof when the market crashes."
The deadline was approaching, and the silent war with the financial world had just begun, signaled not by a phone call, but by a frantic data query in the depths of a London server. The only question now was: How loud would the global recognition be?