The attendant entered the room, carrying an additional chair, and carefully placed it beside Rathore’s seat. Ayaan and Rohit exchanged puzzled glances—why was there a need for another chair? Neither of them voiced their confusion, but the unspoken question hung between them.
Rathore leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk before his gaze settled on them. His earlier irritation seemed to fade slightly as he spoke in a firm yet composed tone. “Congratulations,” he said, his eyes sharp. “You both have met our expectations.”
Ayaan and Rohit remained silent, their confusion deepening. The words sounded like praise, but coming from Rathore, there was always more beneath the surface.
Rathore leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze shifting between Ayaan and Rohit. "Once again, you both have met our expectations," he stated, his tone measured yet firm. There was no hint of praise in his voice—just a simple acknowledgment, as if meeting expectations was the bare minimum required. He pulled a file from the stack on his desk, flipping it open with a calculated glance. "Out of 150 trainees, only 15 received awards," he continued. "And among them, only three truly met our expectations." His fingers tapped lightly against the desk before his gaze settled on them again. "You two are among them." Closing the file with a soft thud, he added, "But don’t let it get to your heads. This is just the beginning."
Once again for the 3rd time Rathore with his sharp gaze flickering between Ayaan and Rohit. But this time Rathore "Congratulations to both of you. You've once again met expectations for Project M," he said, his voice steady but devoid of any real praise. "However, Ayaan, I’m sorry to inform you that you won’t be part of Project M. Don’t ask why, and don’t question the decision."
Ayaan, unwavering, simply nodded. "Understood," he responded in a tone that was almost too calm, as if the news had little effect on him.
After a brief silence, Ayaan broke it with another question. "What exactly is Project M? How is it different from the operations and missions we’ve been involved with?"
Rathore opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a calm, almost serene voice interrupted, "He can tell you about Project M, but he doesn’t want to."
All heads turned toward the door, where the president stood, his posture regal and composed. Behind him, the bodyguard—slightly chubby but imposing in his own way—kept his gaze fixed forward, his presence adding an Extra weight to the room.
The president entered the room, his calm presence filling the space. His bodyguard followed closely, and as they walked in, both Rathore and Ayaan immediately stood in respect. The atmosphere shifted, the quiet authority of the president palpable in every step he took.
Rohit, however, remained seated, his arrogance still evident as he leaned back in his chair. The bodyguard, standing near the door, turned his cold, murderous gaze toward Rohit. The tension in the room escalated, the unspoken threat clear in his eyes. Rohit, sensing the shift, finally stood up, his previous arrogance giving way to a hint of unease.
Rathore gestured toward the chair and invited the president to sit. The president took his seat with grace, his demeanor unruffled by the tension in the room. He glanced at the others and calmly instructed, "Everyone, take a seat." As the others complied, he turned to his bodyguard. "Go and close the door. Guard it from the outside." The bodyguard nodded and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
As everyone settled into their seats, the president’s calm voice filled the room, but there was a certain weight to his words. “Congratulations to all of you for your efforts,” he said, his eyes scanning each of them with measured intensity. When his gaze landed on Ayaan, his tone subtly shifted. “Ayaan, I regret to inform you that we will not be taking you into Project M. You see, the decision isn’t solely based on your performance. To bring anyone into Project M, we require the approval of four pivotal figures. If even one of them rejects, it’s final. There’s no negotiation.”
A heavy silence fell, the tension palpable as his words sank in. The president continued, his voice unwavering. “Now, as for Project M, let me give you two answers. First—yes, it is unlike any mission or operation you’ve ever faced. It’s more dangerous than anything you could imagine. But second—forget about it. Don’t ask. Don’t dwell on it. The more you think about Project M, the more it will weigh on your mind and stress you. It’s not something you need to know, and it’s certainly not something you want to know.”
After a couple of minutes,The president’s voice was calm, but there was a subtle authority in it. “Ayaan, please, would you step outside? I need to have a word with Rohit and Rathore in private.”
Ayaan nodded, his expression neutral as he stood up and quietly exited the room. As the door clicked shut behind him, he was greeted by the sight of Isha, who was standing by the hallway, holding her phone up as she took a selfie. Her laughter echoed lightly through the corridor as she playfully teased the bodyguard, who was stationed nearby, clearly annoyed.
Isha noticed Ayaan standing in the doorway and flashed a mischievous grin. “Took you long enough,” she remarked with a smirk. “I was starting to think you and Rohit were in there for the last day celebration, but it looks like I’ll be waiting for both of you at the campfire tonight. You coming, or should I expect another long delay?”
As Ayaan stepped out of the room, the bodyguard silently closed the door behind him, his expression stoic and unchanging. The silence that followed felt suffocating, like the air itself had thickened in anticipation of what was to come.
Inside, the tension was palpable. The president, calm and unbothered, sat in his chair, his posture straight and composed as if the weight of the situation didn’t faze him in the least. Rathore, sitting across from him, was a stone, unreadable and neutral, observing everything without comment. Rohit, however, was a different story. His anger was a storm waiting to erupt, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly as he glared at the president.
Finally, the pressure built to a breaking point, and Rohit’s fury poured out. “Stop your damn safe game, you old geezer!” he snapped, voice dripping with rage as he shot an accusatory glare at the president. “You’re toying with us like we’re nothing!” His words sliced through the silence, but the president remained unfazed.
The president, with a slight, almost imperceptible sigh, spoke in a calm, even tone. “I know exactly why you’re angry, Rohit,” he said, his voice carrying an unsettling assurance. The tension in the room deepened, the weight of his words settling over them, before the chapter ended with an air of finality.
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 44 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments