Chapter 1 – The Boy Who Wanted the World

The night was silent, except for the faint crackle of a dying lamp. Inside a small mud house on the edge of Bombay, a boy sat beside his mother. His tiny fingers clutched her frail hands, as if holding them tighter would keep her alive.

She was too weak to move, too tired to fight the sickness that had eaten away at her body. Yet her eyes still carried the fire of a woman who had endured every cruelty life had thrown at her.

“Rocky…” she whispered, her breath uneven, her voice trembling.

“You must promise me something.”

The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t talk like that, Ma. You’ll be fine. I’ll bring medicine, I’ll—”

She shook her head softly, stopping him. “No, my son. Listen carefully. Poverty chained me my whole life. I was forced to bow before the world. But you… you are different. You are strong. One day, the world will bow before you.”

Her words pierced Rocky’s heart. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg her not to leave him. But he saw in her eyes that this was her last wish.

Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed it against her hand.

“I promise, Ma,” he whispered. “I will not live like you did. I will rise above them all. I will give you the world.”

A faint smile touched her lips. Then her hand slipped from his grip, falling lifelessly to the bed. The flickering lamp dimmed, and silence filled the room.

That was the night Rocky’s childhood ended.

Years passed. The boy who once begged for scraps in the streets was no longer weak. He had grown lean and sharp, his eyes carrying the same fire his mother once had. The alleys of Bombay became his school, and survival his only subject.

When men twice his size mocked him, he fought. When gangs tried to break him, he fought harder. Every bruise, every scar, every drop of blood reminded him of the promise he had made.

Soon, whispers began To spread in the underworld. “That boy Rocky… he fights like a beast.”

But Rocky wasn’t fighting for food or coins. He wasn’t chasing wealth for pleasure. His fists struck for one reason only—power. Because power meant freedom. Power meant respect. Power meant his mother’s dream would not die with her.

One night, standing on the roof of a crumbling building, Rocky stared at the glittering city lights. His lips curled into a hard smile.

“The world,” he said softly. “That’s what she wanted for me. And I’ll take it… no matter how much blood it costs.”

As if fate had heard him, a figure stepped from the shadows. A man cloaked in darkness, eyes sharp, voice cold.

“I have an offer,” the stranger said.

“There’s a place called Kolar. A gold mine unlike any other. If you want power… if you want the world… that is where you’ll find it.”

Rocky’s eyes narrowed. Gold. Power. Blood. Destiny.

And so began the journey of the boy who wanted the world.

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