Chapter 12: The Influence of One Sentence
*(From the novel "I Became the Gamer Who Controls Reality")*
"Why?" Vivaan Sharma looked directly into Riya Malhotra's eyes, his tone calm but unyielding.
Riya's gaze wavered. She couldn't meet his eyes. Her lips trembled before she finally whispered, "Don't ask… It's my fault."
Vivaan gave a faint smile. He reached out and gently patted her head, ruffling her hair in that light, familiar way. "I should be the one apologizing," he said softly. "Someone seems to be targeting me, and because of that, you, Tanish Verma, and Rohit Nanda got dragged into this. There's still time—find another teammate and make sure you do well in the test. Otherwise, I'll feel guilty. And… please tell them I'm sorry."
Riya just stood there, staring at him blankly. Her face was filled with a tangle of emotions—guilt, confusion, helplessness, and something deeper she couldn't put into words.
"Alright," Vivaan said with a faint smile, lowering his hand. "You should go. I need to start preparing too."
He turned and walked away, his figure calm and composed even as the late afternoon light cast a long shadow behind him.
Riya stood frozen, watching his back grow smaller in the distance. Her fingers curled tightly around her sleeves, and finally, her voice quivered as she called out, "Vivaan… I don't know who you offended, but that person—he's powerful. Really powerful. Please, be careful."
Vivaan didn't reply. He only turned back slightly, offering her a quiet, reassuring smile before striding away.
He knew time wasn't on his side.
Rohit's family was ordinary, but Tanish came from one of the most influential clans in Guide City. And as for Riya… her family background was even more remarkable. It was said her father held a high-ranking government post and wielded enormous authority in the region.
Whoever had the power to make all three of them retreat from a team wasn't ordinary. They had to be someone with immense influence.
Vivaan's brows furrowed slightly. He couldn't figure out whom he might have offended. But when he recalled Reva Rathore's sudden transfer to challenge him, the pieces began to connect in his mind.
He stepped away from the main building and found a quiet, empty path. Pulling out his old phone, he scrolled to his father's number and hit "call," hoping for answers.
But the automated message greeted him coldly: "The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off."
He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. What is Father even doing these days? He hadn't been able to reach him for almost a week now.
Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Vivaan took a deep breath and began planning his next move.
I need three new teammates before the registration deadline.
The combat test was unlike any other part of the college entrance examination. It took place inside a controlled dimensional zone, but "controlled" didn't mean "safe." Every year, despite all precautions, there were still injuries—and sometimes deaths. The government had made the combat exam voluntary, allowing students to freely form their own four-person teams.
Still, every year, countless debates erupted over the safety of this test. People questioned the risks, but the system never changed. The League insisted the test was necessary—to cultivate strength and courage in future generations.
Vivaan wasn't afraid of danger. With his current power and skill, he could easily handle the test alone and still score exceptionally well.
But the League's rules were clear: a team must have four students from the same school. If he didn't find three willing partners before the deadline, he wouldn't even be allowed to participate.
He frowned, his thoughts running fast. The exam's just days away. Most students who planned to join already have teams. Who's left?
He had once dreamed of a simple future—attend a good university, get a stable job, and spend his free time gaming in peace. But someone clearly didn't want to let him live quietly. Someone wanted to make his life difficult.
"Vivaan Sharma, come with me."
The sudden voice broke his train of thought. He turned to see Arvind Rao, his class teacher, standing at the doorway with an unreadable expression.
Vivaan followed him silently to the office. Arvind closed the door behind them and looked at him with a grave, almost hesitant expression.
"Vivaan," he began, "do you know a man named Overseer Veer Rathore?"
Vivaan blinked. "Who?"
"Overseer Veer Rathore," Arvind repeated, emphasizing the title. "It's both an honorific and a military rank. His full name is Veer Rathore. You really don't know him?"
Vivaan shook his head. "No, sir."
Arvind studied him for a long moment. Vivaan's eyes were calm, and there was no sign of deceit. Finally, Arvind sighed. "That's strange. If you don't know him, why would someone of his stature mention you by name during his recent inspection of Guide City?"
Vivaan's heart skipped. "He… mentioned me?"
"Yes," Arvind said with a helpless sigh. "During his visit, he made a passing remark criticizing you. And now, people eager to gain favor with him have started acting on that. I think that's why Riya and the others suddenly withdrew from your team."
Vivaan's expression darkened. "What kind of background does this Veer Rathore have?"
Arvind leaned back slightly in his chair. "I don't know the full details, but here's what I do know. The League is divided into four regions—north, south, west, and east. Guide City belongs to the Eastern Mainland, one of the most powerful territories. And Overseer Veer Rathore… well, despite his young age, he holds an astonishingly high military rank. He comes from an elite lineage, commands vast authority, and is considered one of the rising stars of the Eastern command."
Vivaan's fingers tightened slightly. "So, he's that powerful… Then yes, it all makes sense now. Riya's reaction, her words—it all connects."
Arvind gave a weary nod. "Exactly. To someone like him, one offhand remark can ripple through the entire city. And those trying to curry favor will interpret that remark however they wish. Whether or not he intended to target you doesn't even matter anymore."
Vivaan's voice turned cold. "A single sentence can ruin a student's future. Doesn't he realize that?"
"I wish I could say otherwise," Arvind said softly, "but in the world of power, words weigh more than actions. Still… we can't change that. What we can change is how you respond."
He leaned forward. "The day after tomorrow is the final registration day for the combat test. If you can't form a new team by then, you'll lose your qualification. We need to act quickly."
Vivaan exhaled slowly. "At this point, sir, almost everyone strong enough has already joined a team. And even if I find someone, what's stopping them from backing out again once pressure comes?"
"That's why the people you team up with this time," Arvind said, "can't be ordinary students."
Vivaan frowned slightly. "Not ordinary? What do you mean?"
"There's a loophole in the League's rule," Arvind explained. "It requires four students from the same school, but it never defines how much those students must participate. Some clever schools use this to their advantage. They recruit students with strong backgrounds who technically belong to the school, even if they never attend."
Vivaan gave a short, humorless chuckle. "So, you're suggesting I find someone like that?"
"Precisely," Arvind said. "There's one student in our institute who fits that description perfectly—Kabir Sinha. If you form a team with him, no one will dare interfere. He's… special."
"Kabir Sinha?" Vivaan repeated. "I've never heard of him."
"That's not surprising," Arvind said, smiling faintly. "Kabir's technically enrolled here, but he's almost never on campus. He only showed up once—on the day of enrollment. Most teachers don't even know what he looks like. But trust me, he's got powerful connections."
Vivaan tilted his head. "So, what you're really saying is… I'll be the one carrying him through the exam?"
Arvind smiled knowingly. "In ordinary circumstances, no. But right now, it's the safest way for you to participate. You may not get first place, but you'll still earn solid results—and more importantly, stay out of unnecessary trouble."
Vivaan didn't argue. He nodded. "Alright, sir. I'll leave it to you, then. If that's what it takes to enter the combat test, I'll do it."
Arvind's expression softened. "Good. I'll handle the arrangements and inform Kabir's side. For now, just focus on your training."
Vivaan nodded again, his calm expression betraying nothing. But inside, a quiet storm was brewing.
So… all this chaos began because of one careless sentence from Overseer Veer Rathore.