Rajesh and his colleagues were doing everything they could to find Madhu. Each of them visited multiple lawyers across various locations, but the news was far from hopeful. Rajesh himself had no luck—none of the lawyers he questioned offered any useful information. Some even scolded him for disturbing them so late at night. Yet, Rajesh didn't stop. For his sister's sake, he was ready to cross every line.
One particular lawyer's aggressive reaction raised Rajesh's suspicion. He couldn't be sure, but something felt off. Driven by instinct, he made a bold decision. He climbed the wall of the lawyer's house, using the pipes along the exterior, and reached the rooftop. As he stood there, a moment of doubt crossed his mind—Was this the right thing to do? But he pushed the thought aside and quietly approached the door.
Just then, the lawyer appeared and spotted him. Rajesh's eyes widened, but before either could react further, he jumped down, grabbed the pipe, and landed swiftly on the ground before running off. The lawyer didn't shout. Instead, he calmly called the police.
Rajesh managed to escape, but it became clear that the lawyer wasn't the culprit. Soon after, he began receiving calls from his colleagues—each one reporting the same disappointing result: Madhu hadn't been found. The weight of failure crushed him. He slumped against a wall, weeping, and punched the cold surface with his fist.
Moments later, his phone rang again. It was the police. Hope flared in his chest as he answered. "Sir, did you find my sister?" he asked quickly.
But the voice on the other end spat venom. "You shameless bastard—how dare you lie in the name of your sister? Is she even alive, or is this all a made-up story? Going around trying to steal in people's homes? Stay where you are—we're coming to arrest you."
Panic surged through Rajesh. He realized he was in serious danger. He began to run, but his escape only stirred up more suspicion. The noise woke the neighborhood. More people stepped out of their homes, alerting the authorities. Police vehicles soon swarmed the area, sirens piercing the air.
Rajesh ducked behind a house near a dump, his breath ragged, heart pounding. He could hear the police officers nearby, discussing his capture. Then, he heard a car moving toward the other side—his only chance.
He peeked out from the dump, then sprinted. But a sharp voice called out—one of the policemen had seen him. The chase had begun.
Rajesh, summoning every ounce of strength, ran with all his might. He eventually ducked into an abandoned factory, its interior cloaked in darkness. Breathing heavily, he paused and looked around. The space was silent, seemingly untouched—but to Rajesh, it gave off a strange, unsettling feeling.
Behind him, the shouts of the pursuing policemen echoed closer. Quickly, he slipped beneath a rusted metal table and crouched in silence. He pulled out his phone and dialed his colleagues. "Listen to me carefully," he whispered. "Go straight home. I'm in danger. The police are after me. Break your phones and sim cards immediately, or they'll track you and throw you in jail."
Panic rippled through the call. His friends, helpless to assist him directly, could only offer one last desperate plea: Survive. Don't die.
Moments later, the police presence faded. The sirens grew distant. Still, Rajesh stayed frozen in place. Then, turning his head slightly, he caught sight of something beneath a pile of torn packaging boxes. A phone.
Cautiously, he crawled forward and snatched it up. As soon as it was in his hands, his heart skipped a beat. "This... this is my sister's phone," he whispered in disbelief. But why is it here?
He unlocked the device. Notifications flooded the screen—nearly fifty. Curiosity mixed with dread as he tapped them open. His blood ran cold.
The screen filled with horrifying images—photos of enslaved women, videos showing young girls and women being abused. All sent by Vidya. The shock and rage surged through Rajesh, his fists trembling as his eyes welled up.
But before he could react further, a hand suddenly gripped his right shoulder. A deep, menacing voice whispered from behind, "Don't move, or your head will be in pieces before you can blink."
Rajesh didn't flinch. Instead, he steadied his breath and asked boldly, "Who are you? What have you done to my sister?"
The man behind him smirked. Slowly, he leaned close to Rajesh's ear. His face was wrapped in white cloth, hiding his identity.
"I'll tell you everything," he murmured.
The masked man leaned closer and spoke in a chilling tone. "So, your sister's name is Madhu... She's our target now. From this point on, she'll be a slave—forever."
Rajesh listened silently, taking in every word. But the question lingered—Who was this man? Why was he here in the first place?
To understand that, the story shifts back—two hours earlier.
Inside the moving truck, Madhu and the real Aman lay in the back, bruised and weak. Three goons sat with them, laughing and kicking at them for amusement. "You'll be our slaves now," one said with a sneer. "And this guy here—our new punching bag."
Madhu remained silent, enduring it all.
Suddenly, Lalan Raj signaled the driver to stop. He stepped out of the truck, lit a cigarette, and took a long drag before exhaling slowly.
"You all head to our usual place," he ordered.
"But sir, where are you going?" one of the goons asked.
Lalan scowled. "I'll decide that. You bastards disgust me. Just do as I say."
Without another word, the truck drove off.
Lalan tossed his cigarette, pulled a large white cloth from his pocket, and wrapped it around his face. Then he vanished into the nearby alleys. As he walked, the wails of police sirens echoed through the area. He paused, frowning. Did they find out?
He grabbed a passerby behind a house and demanded an explanation. That's when he discovered the full story—Madhu wasn't the only obstacle. Her brother, Rajesh, was now in the picture.
Without hesitation, Lalan killed the man who had spoken and slipped away.
Back in the present, Rajesh—infuriated by what he had just heard—lunged at the masked man. He gripped his arm, yanked him forward, and slammed him to the ground. With a burst of rage, he punched him again and again, then grabbed his collar.
"You think you'll walk away after saying all this?" Rajesh snarled. "I'll bring you down—I'll expose every one of your men to the law and wipe out your entire organization!"
But before he could land another blow, the masked man—Lalan—grabbed his fist mid-air. A smirk spread across his face.
"Wipe out my organization? You? You're just a kid... a lowly insect daring to challenge me."
With that, Lalan hurled Rajesh to the ground with a single move. Then, with a powerful punch, he dislocated Rajesh's nose, knocking him unconscious. Rajesh could barely move, his words fading into broken whispers. That's when the truth became clear—Lalan wasn't just some thug. He was a trained martial artist—master of Kalaripayattu. Until now, he had been toying with Rajesh.
Lalan reached into Rajesh's pocket, pulled out the phone, and glanced at it. "That girl... she certainly knows how to make things complicated," he muttered. Then, with one sharp motion, he smashed the phone against the floor, shattering it.
He turned to Rajesh, who lay groaning in pain, and pressed a knee down hard on his back.
Rajesh screamed in agony as Lalan whispered, "I won't kill you... but I will torture you. And while I do that—I'll make sure your sister suffers too."
Then, without another word, Lalan walked away—leaving Rajesh broken in the darkness.
Will Rajesh truly do what he promised? Will he be able to expose the dark reality buried deep beneath the surface of this cruel world? And most importantly—will he be able to save his sister Madhu and Vidya from the clutches of Lalan Raj and his monstrous minions?
Only time will tell.