Chapter 3: Forging, Blades, and Forged Bonds

The late afternoon sun dipped low over Surat on October 25, 1608, painting the Tapti River in hues of amber and rose. Jai Vora, eight years old, stood in a quiet alley near his family’s home, his small frame dwarfed by Kofi and Amir, the two young men he’d just freed from a cruel merchant’s chains. The city’s hum—cart wheels grinding, hawkers’ chants, the distant wail of a conch from a temple—faded into a soft backdrop. Jai’s stats glowed in his mind, a testament to his reborn life as Vihaan Roy, the workaholic trade mogul whose dying wish fueled this second chance:

Power=3

Stamina=3

Endurance=10

Health=10

Wisdom=100

Agility=3

Perception=10

Luck=10

Charm=7

The Emperor System, its AI-spirit voice buzzing like a market gossip, chimed in with a mix of glee and prodding. “Well done, Jai! Quest progress: 6/10 followers with a stat above 12 and loyalty above 60%. Kofi and Amir’s loyalty at 50%—not bad for a day’s work. Suggestion: Get them settled fast. Their Blacksmithing=14 and Bladework=16 could be game-changers with training. Those Britishers won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Jai flashed a grin, his Charm=7 making it infectious. “Slow down, system. We’re building Team Vora, not speedrunning a RPG. Let’s get these guys home first.” Kofi (Power=25, Blacksmithing=14) and Amir (Power=24, Bladework=16) stood silent, their tattered tunics stark against the alley’s clay walls, eyes wary yet hopeful. The Hector’s sails loomed at the docks, a grim reminder of Jai’s ultimate task: sabotage the East India Company (EIC) within 40 years. But first, he had to weave Kofi and Amir into his family’s fabric.

“Come on,” Jai said, leading them toward the Vora home, a two-story haven with tiled roofs and a courtyard fragrant with jasmine. Inside, Leela stirred a pot of dal, her Charm filling the kitchen with warmth. Anil sat at a low wooden table, counting rupees from the day’s sales, his Wisdom=10 etched in the furrows of his brow. The sight of Jai with two towering strangers made Anil pause, coins clinking softly. “Jai, who are these lads?”

Jai stepped forward, his small hands gesturing grandly. “Papa, meet Kofi and Amir. They’re joining us—not as slaves, but as family. I bought their freedom today.” Anil’s eyes widened, a mix of pride and unease crossing his face. “Slaves? Jai, you know we don’t keep bondsmen. Ravi, Meera, Gopal—they’re servants, paid and free to leave.”

“Exactly,” Jai said, Wisdom=100 guiding his tone to earnest clarity. “They’re not slaves anymore. Kofi, Amir, this is my father, Anil Vora. He’ll set you straight.” Kofi shifted, his broad shoulders tense, while Amir’s gaze darted, still braced for a whip that never came.

Anil stood, his weathered hands open in welcome. “Boys, if Jai vouches for you, you’re ours. You’ll live in the servant quarters out back—clean beds, shared with our three others. Leela’s food, new clothes from the tailor tomorrow, wages of One silver a month, plus bonuses for good work. You’ll help at the spice stall—loading, deliveries—and pitch in with housework when Leela calls. Fair?”

Kofi’s deep voice trembled slightly. “More than fair, sir.” Amir nodded, his throat tight. Jai jumped in, his Charm weaving enthusiasm. “And to make you legends: Kofi, you’ll apprentice at Master Rajan’s forge near the port. He crafts swords and armor for the Mughal army—your Blacksmithing will grow fast there.” The system whispered: “Smart. His Power=25 will hammer steel like a god.”

Kofi’s eyes lit up. “Forge work? I… I’d be honored.”

Jai turned to Amir. “And you, Amir, will train at Guru Dev’s gurukul by the old temple. Sword drills, footwork— will make you a blade master.” Amir’s fists clenched, a spark of pride igniting. “But,” Jai added, “you both help at the shop and home when needed. deal?”

“Deal,” they said in unison, kneeling. Tears traced Kofi’s cheeks as he spoke. “We’ve known cruelty—whips, hunger, chains. But this kindness…” Amir finished, voice thick, “We’ll serve you with our lives.” Anil’s gentle nod and Jai’s beaming grin sealed the moment, a warmth that cracked their guarded hearts. The system pinged: “Loyalty up to 60% for both! Quest progress: 6/10, but you’re close. Their skills will level with training—keep pushing.”

Leela appeared, wiping floury hands on her sari. “Enough talk—come eat. Dal, parathas, and mango pickle for all.” Over dinner, Jai shared his plans, his Wisdom=100 tempering his excitement. “Papa, Ma, Kofi and Amir will boost the stall. Strong hands, loyal hearts. Plus, I’m hunting more helpers tomorrow.” Anil chuckled. “You’re a whirlwind, son. Just don’t outgrow us.” Leela ruffled Jai’s hair. “Bedtime, beta. Big dreams need rest.”

Jai climbed to his room, the system humming softly. “Nice bonding, Jai. Tomorrow, keep scouting—those Britishers are scheming at the docks.” He drifted to sleep, visions of forges and swords mingling with the Hector’s ominous sails.

The next morning, October 26, Jai woke to Surat’s dawn chorus—muezzins, roosters, and cart wheels. He joined Anil at the spice stall, diving into accounting with a quill and ledger. His Wisdom=100 made numbers dance: 50 rupees profit yesterday, minus 10 for Kofi and Amir. He spotted an error in Anil’s sums, saving five rupees. “You’re teaching me now,” Anil laughed, clapping his shoulder. After lunch, Jai studied trade routes under Anil, memorizing ports from Calicut to Hormuz, his mind weaving Vihaan Roy’s future knowledge into Mughal strategies.

By afternoon, Jai hit the streets again, Ability Detector scanning for talent. A fisherman (Endurance=13, Loyalty=30 to his crew) hauled nets at the docks—too tied to his trade. A young poet (Wisdom=15, Loyalty=50 to a patron) recited at a tea stall, but his master’s glare deterred Jai. “System,” he muttered, dodging a stray goat, “finding free talent is like chasing a monsoon breeze.”

“Keep at it,” the system urged. “The EIC’s meeting Mughal officials tomorrow—recruit fast, or they’ll outpace you.” Jai’s eyes flicked to the Hector, its crew unloading crates under armed guards (Power=20, Loyalty=30 to EIC). His heart raced, quirky defiance flaring: Time to level up, Britishers. Team Vora’s coming for you.

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