The medical facility was white.
Too white.
Like someone had tried to erase blood and couldn't quite get it all out.
Bharat stood at the main entrance. Glass doors. Security checkpoint. Two guards in temple uniforms watching him with the kind of attention that meant they'd been warned.
He walked forward.
Didn't run.
Didn't hesitate.
Just moved like he owned the building.
Because legally, he did.
"Stop."
Guard One.
Hand on his baton.
"This is a private facility. Visitors need authorization."
Bharat pulled out his phone.
Showed the emergency inspection order.
Legal letterhead. Official seals. Rajesh had done good work.
"I'm not a visitor. I'm the Director of Temple Affairs. This is an emergency inspection under Public Health Code Section 47-B. Patient endangerment clause. You have thirty seconds to grant me access or I call the police."
The guard looked at the document.
Looked at his partner.
Looked back at Bharat.
"I need to verify this with—"
"You need to step aside. Now."
Bharat's voice was flat.
Calm.
The kind of calm that meant violence was already decided, just waiting for an excuse.
The guard's hand tightened on his baton.
"Sir, I can't let you—"
Bharat stepped forward.
The guard swung.
The baton came down.
Fast.
Aimed at Bharat's shoulder.
Should've connected.
Should've broken bone.
Didn't.
It STOPPED.
One inch from impact.
Hovering.
Shaking.
Like it had hit an invisible wall.
The guard's eyes went wide. He pulled back, swung again—harder this time. Same result. The baton hit SOMETHING in the air between them and just… stopped. Vibrating. Refusing to go further.
"What the—"
Bharat didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Just stood there watching the man realize what was happening.
"The Protective Power Handle," Bharat said quietly. "Protective authority. Part of my contract as Director. Anyone acting under temple jurisdiction who tries to harm me violates divine law. The contract itself won't let you."
He stepped closer.
The guard stepped back.
"So here's how this works. You can try to stop me and fail. Or you can step aside and keep your job. Your choice."
Long pause.
The guard lowered his baton.
Stepped aside.
Smart man.
Bharat walked through.
Into the lobby.
Sterile.
Empty.
Too quiet for a medical facility.
No nurses.
No patients.
No sounds of medical equipment.
Just silence.
And the smell of disinfectant trying to hide something worse.
His phone buzzed.
Peacock:
"We're in. Service entrance clear. Heading to fourth floor."
Good.
Another message.
Inspector Desai:
"Officers positioned outside. Waiting for your signal."
Better.
Bharat took the elevator.
Fourth floor.
The doors opened.
Hallway.
White walls.
Fluorescent lights.
And at the far end:
Two more guards.
Standing outside Room 47.
Arjun's room.
They saw him.
Straightened.
Hands moving to weapons.
"This floor is restricted," one of them called out.
"Not to me."
Bharat walked forward.
Steady.
Unhurried.
"I'm here for Arjun Reddy. Patient transfer. Emergency medical intervention."
"We have no record of—"
"You have no AUTHORITY to stop me. Step aside."
"Sir, we have orders—"
"I don't care about your orders. I have legal jurisdiction. You don't. Move."
Guard Two pulled a knife.
"Last warning. Turn around."
Bharat kept walking.
"No."
The guard lunged.
Knife aimed at Bharat's chest.
Fast.
Trained.
Should've killed him.
Didn't.
The blade hit the invisible barrier.
STOPPED.
Centimeters from Bharat's heart.
**The guard's momentum carried him forward—he stumbled, crashed into theProtective Power Handle like hitting a glass wall. The knife SHATTERED. Just broke apart in his hand like it was made of ice.
He fell.
Stared at the broken blade.
At Bharat.
"What ARE you?"
"Tired," Bharat said. "And running out of time. So either you let me through, or I walk through you. Literally."
He stepped forward.
**The Protective Power Handle pushed the guards BACK. Not violently. Just… moved them. Like they were furniture in the way. Slid them aside with invisible force until they hit the walls.
Bharat reached the door.
Opened it.
Inside:
A hospital room.
One bed.
Medical equipment.
IV drips.
And in the bed:
A kid.
Nineteen.
Looked twelve.
Skin pale.
Eyes hollow.
Breathing shallow.
Arjun.
"Who—" his voice was weak "—are you?"
"Someone who promised your sister I'd get you out of here."
"Kavita sent you?"
"She made a deal. I'm keeping my end."
Bharat moved to the IV.
Checked the label.
His blood ran cold.
The medication wasn't chemotherapy.
It was POISON.
Slow-acting.
Designed to mimic cancer symptoms while actually CAUSING them.
"They're killing you," he said quietly.
"I know."
Arjun's voice was calm.
Resigned.
"Known for weeks. But if I try to leave, they threaten Kavita. So I stay. And I die. Slowly."
"Not anymore."
Bharat pulled out the IV.
"Can you walk?"
"Barely."
"That'll have to be enough."
He helped Arjun sit up.
The kid was light.
Too light.
Like he was already halfway gone.
"Why are you helping me?" Arjun asked.
"Because I said I would."
"That's it?"
"That's everything."
They moved to the door.
The guards were still on the floor.
Stunned.
Trying to understand what had just happened.
Bharat looked at them.
"Tell your bosses the Director says hello."
Then he walked out.
The elevator.
Down.
Third floor.
Second.
First.
Lobby.
Almost there.
The doors opened.
Ten men.
Waiting.
All armed.
All temple security.
And at the front:
Dr. Vikram Malhotra.
The head of Temple Medical Services.
Fifties.
Expensive suit.
Cold eyes.
"Mr. Shah. I'm afraid I can't let you leave with that patient."
Bharat stepped out of the elevator.
Arjun leaning on him.
Barely conscious.
"You don't have a choice."
"On the contrary. You're trespassing. Kidnapping a patient. I've already called the police."
"Funny. So have I."
Bharat pulled out his phone.
Showed the recording he'd been making since he entered.
Every conversation.
Every threat.
Every moment on video.
"This recording shows your guards assaulting a government official. Attempting murder. And obstructing a legal inspection. That's three felonies. Plus whatever charges come from the POISON you've been giving this kid."
Vikram's face went pale.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?"
Bharat gestured to the windows.
Outside:
Police cars.
Lights flashing.
Inspector Desai standing at the entrance.
"I told you. I called the police. Real ones. Not your paid friends."
Vikram's jaw tightened.
"You think this changes anything? The temple has lawyers. Judges. Politicians. You're one man with a recording. We'll bury you."
"Maybe. But not today."
Bharat started walking.
Toward the door.
The security team moved to block him.
"Don't," Bharat said quietly.
One of them reached for his gun.
Bharat stopped.
Looked directly at the man.
"You pull that weapon, you're not just attacking me. You're violating a divine contract. TheProtective Power Handle will kill you. Not me. IT will. The contract itself. And I've seen what that looks like."
He stepped closer.
"Your blood will boil. Your organs will rupture. You'll die screaming. And it'll all be on camera."
The man's hand froze.
Shaking.
"You're lying."
"Try me."
Long pause.
The gun stayed holstered.
Smart.
Bharat walked out.
Through the doors.
Into the night.
Police surrounded them immediately.
Inspector Desai:
"You got him?"
"I got him. He needs a hospital. A REAL one."
"We'll take him to—"
"No. I have a doctor. Private clinic. Dharavi."
"That's irregular—"
"So is poisoning patients. Trust me."
Desai looked at Arjun.
At the IV marks.
At the kid's hollow eyes.
"Okay. But I'm sending an officer with you."
"Fine."
They loaded Arjun into Peacock's van.
Dr. Chen was waiting at her clinic.
Small.
Hidden.
But clean.
Professional.
She took one look at Arjun and swore.
"What did they DO to him?"
"Poison. Disguised as chemotherapy. Can you help him?"
"Maybe. If you got him out in time. But this is bad. Really bad. He'll need weeks of treatment just to stabilize."
"How long before we know if he'll survive?"
"Forty-eight hours. Maybe less."
Bharat's chest tightened.
The contract with Kavita required him to "ensure Arjun's medical care."
But if the kid died in the next two days—
"Do whatever you can," Bharat said.
"I will. But I need payment. My clinic runs on—"
"I know. And I'll handle it. The temple's been harassing you. That stops. Today. I'll make it official."
She stared.
"You can do that?"
"I'm the Director of Temple Affairs. I can do a lot of things."
"And if the temple retaliates?"
"They'll have bigger problems."
She studied him.
Then nodded.
"Okay. I'll save your kid. You save my clinic."
"Deal."
Another promise.
Another thread.
Outside the clinic:
Peacock was waiting.
"Kavita's in trouble."
Bharat's stomach dropped.
"What kind of trouble?"
"The kind with guns and cars. Rajan found out about the extraction. He's sent people after her."
"Where is she?"
"Safehouse in Bandra. But they're already there. She's pinned down."
"How many?"
"Four. Maybe five. All armed."
Bharat checked his watch.
Countdown: 3:21:47
Three hours.
He had THREE HOURS until midnight.
And now he had to:
Save Kavita from assassinationGet the ringPrepare for sanctum raidSomehow not die
"Let's go," he said.
The drive took fifteen minutes.
Traffic.
Always traffic.
They reached the safehouse.
Fourth floor apartment.
Stairwell blocked.
Two men at the entrance.
Armed.
Waiting.
Peacock:
"We can't just walk in. They'll shoot."
"Yes we can."
Bharat got out of the van.
Started walking.
"Bharat—"
"Stay here. Cover the exits."
"You're going to get killed—"
"No I'm not."
He walked up to the entrance.
The guards saw him.
Raised their guns.
"Stop right there."
Bharat kept walking.
"I said STOP—"
"I heard you."
He reached the stairs.
Started climbing.
"Hey! I'm talking to you—"
One of them grabbed his shoulder.
Tried to pull him back.
The Protective Power Handle THREW the man.
Not gently.
Slammed him into the wall hard enough to crack plaster.
The second guard fired.
Three shots.
Point blank.
All three bullets STOPPED.
Mid-air.
Floating.
Then dropped to the ground with little metallic clinks.
The guard stared.
"What the fuck—"
Bharat walked past him.
"Tell Rajan his contracts don't work on me anymore."
Fourth floor.
Apartment 4C.
Door broken.
Inside:
Kavita.
Backed into a corner.
Two men advancing.
One with a knife.
One with a gun.
Bharat stepped through the doorway.
"Gentlemen. Bad time?"
They turned.
Gun Guy fired.
Immediately.
No warning.
The bullet stopped.
Hovered.
Dropped.
"Okay," Gun Guy said slowly. "What the hell ARE you?"
"Overworked," Bharat said. "Underpaid. And really, REALLY tired of people trying to kill me."
Knife Guy charged.
Fast.
Professional.
The blade hit the Protective Power Handle .
SHATTERED.
Exploded into fragments.
Knife Guy stumbled.
Fell.
Cut his own hand on the broken pieces.
"She's coming with me," Bharat said.
Gun Guy raised his weapon again.
"We have orders—"
"I don't care about your orders. Leave. Now. Or find out what happens when you violate a divine contract."
"We're not afraid of—"
Bharat stepped forward.
The Protective Power Handle expanded.
Visible now.
A shimmer in the air.
Like heat waves.
**It PUSHED both men back. Slid them across the floor like they weighed nothing. Pinned them against the wall.
"Last chance," Bharat said.
They ran.
Kavita stared.
"You're not human."
"I'm very human. Just very contractually protected."
"That's not normal."
"Nothing about this is normal."
He helped her up.
"Your brother's safe. Dr. Chen's clinic. She's treating him."
"He'll survive?"
"Maybe. She said forty-eight hours before we know."
Kavita's eyes filled.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. We still need the ring. And you still need to testify."
She reached into her pocket.
Pulled out the gold band.
The temple administrator's ring.
Handed it to him.
"I promised. And you delivered."
Bharat took it.
The third key.
The final piece.
His phone buzzed.
System notification:
[CONTRACT Performance COMPLETE: Rescue Arjun Reddy - 67% FULFILLED]
[Patient extracted: ✓]
[Medical treatment secured: ✓]
[Full recovery: PENDING (48 hrs)]
[WARNING: Conditional completion - Final status determines penalty]
Sixty-seven percent.
Not a hundred.
Because Arjun might still die.
And if he did—
The penalty would activate.
-365 days.
One year of his life.
Gone.
Another notification:
[ATTENTION: DIVINE CONTRACT BREACH DETECTED]
[Analysis: User has employed Protective Power Handle in offensive capacity]
[Violation Type: Protective authority used for aggression]
[Penalty Assessment: IN PROGRESS]
[COUNTDOWN ADJUSTMENT: -24 HOURS]
Bharat stared.
Twenty-four hours.
Gone.
Just like that.
Countdown: -20:38:13
Wait.
NEGATIVE twenty hours?
That wasn't possible.
Unless—
The system spoke.
Not text.
VOICE.
Cold.
Mechanical.
Amused.
"You think you're breaking the rules?"
"You're just following them faster."
"Every time you resist, you pull the deadline CLOSER."
"Every time you fight, you LOSE TIME."
"That's the beauty of divine contracts, Mr. Shah."
"The harder you struggle, the tighter they bind."
Bharat looked at his watch.
The countdown was ACCELERATING.
Not just ticking down.
JUMPING.
Hours disappearing in seconds.
"What's happening?" Kavita asked.
"The system," Bharat said quietly. "It's punishing me. For using theProtective Power Handle to fight instead of just defend."
"Can you stop it?"
"I don't know."
He pulled up the system interface.
Searched.
Scrolled through contract clauses.
Pages of legal text.
Somewhere—SOMEWHERE—there had to be a loophole.
A way to prolong life.
To delay the deadline.
To survive.
Then he saw it.
Buried in subsection 47.
Hidden clause:
[PERFECTPerformance PROTOCOL]
[Condition: If ALL contracted obligations are fulfilled with 100% completion, User may invoke DEADLINE RESET]
[Requirements:]
All promises keptAll contracts honoredAll parties satisfiedZero violations
[Reward: Countdown reset to original duration + 24-hour grace period]
Bharat stared.
PerfectPerformance.
Perfect completion.
Every single promise.
Every single contract.
100% fulfilled.
That meant:
✓ Rescue Arjun (PENDING - survival not confirmed)✓ Protect Kavita (COMPLETE)✓ Obtain ring (COMPLETE)✗ Court testimony (NOT YET DONE)✗ Destroy sanctum (NOT YET STARTED)✗ Save Ayesha (UNKNOWN STATUS)✗ Win court case (APPEALS PENDING)
Seven obligations.
Three complete.
Four pending.
Countdown: -17:22:08
NEGATIVE seventeen hours.
He was already PAST the deadline.
Running on borrowed time.
The system was keeping him alive just long enough to see if he'd succeed.
Or fail spectacularly.
Peacock ran in.
"We have a problem."
"Another one?"
"Ayesha's mark—it's critical. She collapsed. The recall is pulling her HARD. Mira says she has maybe two hours before the mark burns through her completely."
Bharat closed his eyes.
"How many hours until midnight?"
Peacock checked.
"Four. But your countdown says—"
"I know what it says."
He looked at the ring in his hand.
At Kavita.
At Peacock.
"We go now. Sanctum raid. Tonight. All of us."
"We're not ready—"
"We're never ready. But we're out of time."
His phone buzzed.
One final system message:
[FINAL NOTICE]
[User has entered NEGATIVE TIME ZONE]
[Survival contingent on PERFECTCHAPTER 32: Blood and Authority
The medical facility was white.
Too white.
Like someone had tried to erase blood and couldn't quite get it all out.
Bharat stood at the main entrance. Glass doors. Security checkpoint. Two guards in temple uniforms watching him with the kind of attention that meant they'd been warned.
He walked forward.
Didn't run.
Didn't hesitate.
Just moved like he owned the building.
Because legally, he did.
"Stop."
Guard One.
Hand on his baton.
"This is a private facility. Visitors need authorization."
Bharat pulled out his phone.
Showed the emergency inspection order.
Legal letterhead. Official seals. Rajesh had done good work.
"I'm not a visitor. I'm the Director of Temple Affairs. This is an emergency inspection under Public Health Code Section 47-B. Patient endangerment clause. You have thirty seconds to grant me access or I call the police."
The guard looked at the document.
Looked at his partner.
Looked back at Bharat.
"I need to verify this with—"
"You need to step aside. Now."
Bharat's voice was flat.
Calm.
The kind of calm that meant violence was already decided, just waiting for an excuse.
The guard's hand tightened on his baton.
"Sir, I can't let you—"
Bharat stepped forward.
The guard swung.
The baton came down.
Fast.
Aimed at Bharat's shoulder.
Should've connected.
Should've broken bone.
Didn't.
It STOPPED.
One inch from impact.
Hovering.
Shaking.
Like it had hit an invisible wall.
The guard's eyes went wide. He pulled back, swung again—harder this time. Same result. The baton hit SOMETHING in the air between them and just… stopped. Vibrating. Refusing to go further.
"What the—"
Bharat didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Just stood there watching the man realize what was happening.
"The护身权柄," Bharat said quietly. "Protective authority. Part of my contract as Director. Anyone acting under temple jurisdiction who tries to harm me violates divine law. The contract itself won't let you."
He stepped closer.
The guard stepped back.
"So here's how this works. You can try to stop me and fail. Or you can step aside and keep your job. Your choice."
Long pause.
The guard lowered his baton.
Stepped aside.
Smart man.
Bharat walked through.
Into the lobby.
Sterile.
Empty.
Too quiet for a medical facility.
No nurses.
No patients.
No sounds of medical equipment.
Just silence.
And the smell of disinfectant trying to hide something worse.
His phone buzzed.
Peacock:
"We're in. Service entrance clear. Heading to fourth floor."
Good.
Another message.
Inspector Desai:
"Officers positioned outside. Waiting for your signal."
Better.
Bharat took the elevator.
Fourth floor.
The doors opened.
Hallway.
White walls.
Fluorescent lights.
And at the far end:
Two more guards.
Standing outside Room 47.
Arjun's room.
They saw him.
Straightened.
Hands moving to weapons.
"This floor is restricted," one of them called out.
"Not to me."
Bharat walked forward.
Steady.
Unhurried.
"I'm here for Arjun Reddy. Patient transfer. Emergency medical intervention."
"We have no record of—"
"You have no AUTHORITY to stop me. Step aside."
"Sir, we have orders—"
"I don't care about your orders. I have legal jurisdiction. You don't. Move."
Guard Two pulled a knife.
"Last warning. Turn around."
Bharat kept walking.
"No."
The guard lunged.
Knife aimed at Bharat's chest.
Fast.
Trained.
Should've killed him.
Didn't.
The blade hit the invisible barrier.
STOPPED.
Centimeters from Bharat's heart.
**The guard's momentum carried him forward—he stumbled, crashed into theProtective Power Handle like hitting a glass wall. The knife SHATTERED. Just broke apart in his hand like it was made of ice.
He fell.
Stared at the broken blade.
At Bharat.
"What ARE you?"
"Tired," Bharat said. "And running out of time. So either you let me through, or I walk through you. Literally."
He stepped forward.
**The Protective Power Handle pushed the guards BACK. Not violently. Just… moved them. Like they were furniture in the way. Slid them aside with invisible force until they hit the walls.
Bharat reached the door.
Opened it.
Inside:
A hospital room.
One bed.
Medical equipment.
IV drips.
And in the bed:
A kid.
Nineteen.
Looked twelve.
Skin pale.
Eyes hollow.
Breathing shallow.
Arjun.
"Who—" his voice was weak "—are you?"
"Someone who promised your sister I'd get you out of here."
"Kavita sent you?"
"She made a deal. I'm keeping my end."
Bharat moved to the IV.
Checked the label.
His blood ran cold.
The medication wasn't chemotherapy.
It was POISON.
Slow-acting.
Designed to mimic cancer symptoms while actually CAUSING them.
"They're killing you," he said quietly.
"I know."
Arjun's voice was calm.
Resigned.
"Known for weeks. But if I try to leave, they threaten Kavita. So I stay. And I die. Slowly."
"Not anymore."
Bharat pulled out the IV.
"Can you walk?"
"Barely."
"That'll have to be enough."
He helped Arjun sit up.
The kid was light.
Too light.
Like he was already halfway gone.
"Why are you helping me?" Arjun asked.
"Because I said I would."
"That's it?"
"That's everything."
They moved to the door.
The guards were still on the floor.
Stunned.
Trying to understand what had just happened.
Bharat looked at them.
"Tell your bosses the Director says hello."
Then he walked out.
The elevator.
Down.
Third floor.
Second.
First.
Lobby.
Almost there.
The doors opened.
Ten men.
Waiting.
All armed.
All temple security.
And at the front:
Dr. Vikram Malhotra.
The head of Temple Medical Services.
Fifties.
Expensive suit.
Cold eyes.
"Mr. Shah. I'm afraid I can't let you leave with that patient."
Bharat stepped out of the elevator.
Arjun leaning on him.
Barely conscious.
"You don't have a choice."
"On the contrary. You're trespassing. Kidnapping a patient. I've already called the police."
"Funny. So have I."
Bharat pulled out his phone.
Showed the recording he'd been making since he entered.
Every conversation.
Every threat.
Every moment on video.
"This recording shows your guards assaulting a government official. Attempting murder. And obstructing a legal inspection. That's three felonies. Plus whatever charges come from the POISON you've been giving this kid."
Vikram's face went pale.
"You're bluffing."
"Am I?"
Bharat gestured to the windows.
Outside:
Police cars.
Lights flashing.
Inspector Desai standing at the entrance.
"I told you. I called the police. Real ones. Not your paid friends."
Vikram's jaw tightened.
"You think this changes anything? The temple has lawyers. Judges. Politicians. You're one man with a recording. We'll bury you."
"Maybe. But not today."
Bharat started walking.
Toward the door.
The security team moved to block him.
"Don't," Bharat said quietly.
One of them reached for his gun.
Bharat stopped.
Looked directly at the man.
"You pull that weapon, you're not just attacking me. You're violating a divine contract. The Protective Power Handle will kill you. Not me. IT will. The contract itself. And I've seen what that looks like."
He stepped closer.
"Your blood will boil. Your organs will rupture. You'll die screaming. And it'll all be on camera."
The man's hand froze.
Shaking.
"You're lying."
"Try me."
Long pause.
The gun stayed holstered.
Smart.
Bharat walked out.
Through the doors.
Into the night.
Police surrounded them immediately.
Inspector Desai:
"You got him?"
"I got him. He needs a hospital. A REAL one."
"We'll take him to—"
"No. I have a doctor. Private clinic. Dharavi."
"That's irregular—"
"So is poisoning patients. Trust me."
Desai looked at Arjun.
At the IV marks.
At the kid's hollow eyes.
"Okay. But I'm sending an officer with you."
"Fine."
They loaded Arjun into Peacock's van.
Dr. Chen was waiting at her clinic.
Small.
Hidden.
But clean.
Professional.
She took one look at Arjun and swore.
"What did they DO to him?"
"Poison. Disguised as chemotherapy. Can you help him?"
"Maybe. If you got him out in time. But this is bad. Really bad. He'll need weeks of treatment just to stabilize."
"How long before we know if he'll survive?"
"Forty-eight hours. Maybe less."
Bharat's chest tightened.
The contract with Kavita required him to "ensure Arjun's medical care."
But if the kid died in the next two days—
"Do whatever you can," Bharat said.
"I will. But I need payment. My clinic runs on—"
"I know. And I'll handle it. The temple's been harassing you. That stops. Today. I'll make it official."
She stared.
"You can do that?"
"I'm the Director of Temple Affairs. I can do a lot of things."
"And if the temple retaliates?"
"They'll have bigger problems."
She studied him.
Then nodded.
"Okay. I'll save your kid. You save my clinic."
"Deal."
Another promise.
Another thread.
Outside the clinic:
Peacock was waiting.
"Kavita's in trouble."
Bharat's stomach dropped.
"What kind of trouble?"
"The kind with guns and cars. Rajan found out about the extraction. He's sent people after her."
"Where is she?"
"Safehouse in Bandra. But they're already there. She's pinned down."
"How many?"
"Four. Maybe five. All armed."
Bharat checked his watch.
Countdown: 3:21:47
Three hours.
He had THREE HOURS until midnight.
And now he had to:
Save Kavita from assassinationGet the ringPrepare for sanctum raidSomehow not die
"Let's go," he said.
The drive took fifteen minutes.
Traffic.
Always traffic.
They reached the safehouse.
Fourth floor apartment.
Stairwell blocked.
Two men at the entrance.
Armed.
Waiting.
Peacock:
"We can't just walk in. They'll shoot."
"Yes we can."
Bharat got out of the van.
Started walking.
"Bharat—"
"Stay here. Cover the exits."
"You're going to get killed—"
"No I'm not."
He walked up to the entrance.
The guards saw him.
Raised their guns.
"Stop right there."
Bharat kept walking.
"I said STOP—"
"I heard you."
He reached the stairs.
Started climbing.
"Hey! I'm talking to you—"
One of them grabbed his shoulder.
Tried to pull him back.
TheProtective Power Handle THREW the man.
Not gently.
Slammed him into the wall hard enough to crack plaster.
The second guard fired.
Three shots.
Point blank.
All three bullets STOPPED.
Mid-air.
Floating.
Then dropped to the ground with little metallic clinks.
The guard stared.
"What the fuck—"
Bharat walked past him.
"Tell Rajan his contracts don't work on me anymore."
Fourth floor.
Apartment 4C.
Door broken.
Inside:
Kavita.
Backed into a corner.
Two men advancing.
One with a knife.
One with a gun.
Bharat stepped through the doorway.
"Gentlemen. Bad time?"
They turned.
Gun Guy fired.
Immediately.
No warning.
The bullet stopped.
Hovered.
Dropped.
"Okay," Gun Guy said slowly. "What the hell ARE you?"
"Overworked," Bharat said. "Underpaid. And really, REALLY tired of people trying to kill me."
Knife Guy charged.
Fast.
Professional.
The blade hit the Protective Power Handle.
SHATTERED.
Exploded into fragments.
Knife Guy stumbled.
Fell.
Cut his own hand on the broken pieces.
"She's coming with me," Bharat said.
Gun Guy raised his weapon again.
"We have orders—"
"I don't care about your orders. Leave. Now. Or find out what happens when you violate a divine contract."
"We're not afraid of—"
Bharat stepped forward.
The Protective Power Handle expanded.
Visible now.
A shimmer in the air.
Like heat waves.
**It PUSHED both men back. Slid them across the floor like they weighed nothing. Pinned them against the wall.
"Last chance," Bharat said.
They ran.
Kavita stared.
"You're not human."
"I'm very human. Just very contractually protected."
"That's not normal."
"Nothing about this is normal."
He helped her up.
"Your brother's safe. Dr. Chen's clinic. She's treating him."
"He'll survive?"
"Maybe. She said forty-eight hours before we know."
Kavita's eyes filled.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. We still need the ring. And you still need to testify."
She reached into her pocket.
Pulled out the gold band.
The temple administrator's ring.
Handed it to him.
"I promised. And you delivered."
Bharat took it.
The third key.
The final piece.
His phone buzzed.
System notification:
[CONTRACT Performance COMPLETE: Rescue Arjun Reddy - 67% FULFILLED]
[Patient extracted: ✓]
[Medical treatment secured: ✓]
[Full recovery: PENDING (48 hrs)]
[WARNING: Conditional completion - Final status determines penalty]
Sixty-seven percent.
Not a hundred.
Because Arjun might still die.
And if he did—
The penalty would activate.
-365 days.
One year of his life.
Gone.
Another notification:
[ATTENTION: DIVINE CONTRACT BREACH DETECTED]
[Analysis: User has employed Protective Power Handle in offensive capacity]
[Violation Type: Protective authority used for aggression]
[Penalty Assessment: IN PROGRESS]
[COUNTDOWN ADJUSTMENT: -24 HOURS]
Bharat stared.
Twenty-four hours.
Gone.
Just like that.
Countdown: -20:38:13
Wait.
NEGATIVE twenty hours?
That wasn't possible.
Unless—
The system spoke.
Not text.
VOICE.
Cold.
Mechanical.
Amused.
"You think you're breaking the rules?"
"You're just following them faster."
"Every time you resist, you pull the deadline CLOSER."
"Every time you fight, you LOSE TIME."
"That's the beauty of divine contracts, Mr. Shah."
"The harder you struggle, the tighter they bind."
Bharat looked at his watch.
The countdown was ACCELERATING.
Not just ticking down.
JUMPING.
Hours disappearing in seconds.
"What's happening?" Kavita asked.
"The system," Bharat said quietly. "It's punishing me. For using the Protective Power Handle to fight instead of just defend."
"Can you stop it?"
"I don't know."
He pulled up the system interface.
Searched.
Scrolled through contract clauses.
Pages of legal text.
Somewhere—SOMEWHERE—there had to be a loophole.
A way to prolong life.
To Delay the deadline.
To survive.
Then he saw it.
Buried in subsection 47.
Hidden clause:
[PERFECT Performance PROTOCOL]
[Condition: If ALL contracted obligations are fulfilled with 100% completion, User may invoke DEADLINE RESET]
[Requirements:]
All promises keptAll contracts honoredAll parties satisfiedZero violations
[Reward: Countdown reset to original duration + 24-hour grace period]
Bharat stared.
Perfect Performance .
Perfect completion.
Every single promise.
Every single contract.
100% fulfilled.
That meant:
✓ Rescue Arjun (PENDING - survival not confirmed)✓ Protect Kavita (COMPLETE)✓ Obtain ring (COMPLETE)✗ Court testimony (NOT YET DONE)✗ Destroy sanctum (NOT YET STARTED)✗ Save Ayesha (UNKNOWN STATUS)✗ Win court case (APPEALS PENDING)
Seven obligations.
Three complete.
Four pending.
Countdown: -17:22:08
NEGATIVE seventeen hours.
He was already PAST the deadline.
Running on borrowed time.
The system was keeping him alive just long enough to see if he'd succeed.
Or fail spectacularly.
Peacock ran in.
"We have a problem."
"Another one?"
"Ayesha's mark—it's critical. She collapsed. The recall is pulling her HARD. Mira says she has maybe two hours before the mark burns through her completely."
Bharat closed his eyes.
"How many hours until midnight?"
Peacock checked.
"Four. But your countdown says—"
"I know what it says."
He looked at the ring in his hand.
At Kavita.
At Peacock.
"We go now. Sanctum raid. Tonight. All of us."
"We're not ready—"
"We're never ready. But we're out of time."
His phone buzzed.
One final system message:
[FINAL NOTICE]
[User has entered NEGATIVE TIME ZONE]
[Survival contingent on PERFECT Performance]
[Failure = IMMEDIATE TERMINATION]
[Success = DEADLINE RESET + REWARDS]
[Current probability of success: 3%]
[Good luck, Mr. Shah.]
[You're going to need it.]
Three percent.
That was his chance.
Three percent.
Bharat looked at the ring.
At the final key.
At the impossible mission.
And smiled.
"Three percent is better than zero."
"Barely," Peacock said.
"Then let's make it count."
Performance]
[Failure = IMMEDIATE TERMINATION]
[Success = DEADLINE RESET + REWARDS]
[Current probability of success: 3%]
[Good luck, Mr. Shah.]
[You're going to need it.]
Three percent.
That was his chance.
Three percent.
Bharat looked at the ring.
At the final key.
At the impossible mission.
And smiled.
"Three percent is better than zero."
"Barely," Peacock said.
"Then let's make it count."