THE TALK...

The grand halls of Manav's palace were bathed in the soft glow of the chandelier, casting long shadows along the marble floor. Omkar entered cautiously, his heart pounding as he approached the towering figure of Manav, who stood near the window, gazing at the city below. The atmosphere was thick with tension, an air of something unspoken lingering between them.

Manav did not turn to acknowledge Omkar's presence, but his cold, emotionless voice sliced through the silence.

"Sit."

Omkar obeyed, lowering himself onto the plush chair across from Manav's desk. He cleared his throat, attempting to mask his unease. 

"Sir," Omkar began hesitantly, "why did you give me the credit for finding the cure to the virus? I had no part in it."

Manav finally turned, his piercing gaze locking onto Omkar's eyes with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. The lack of emotion on Manav's face made him appear almost inhuman, calculating, as if he were reading every thought in Omkar's mind before he could speak them aloud.

"Do you remember Crimson Serpent?" Manav asked, his voice flat.

Omkar stiffened at the mention of the name. 

"Yes, sir," he said carefully. "The criminal organization in your Country, the one that was completely eradicated on your orders by your commanders."

Manav nodded slowly. 

"Correct. What if I told you that Crimson Serpent was more than just an organization to me?"

Omkar frowned. "I'm not sure I follow, sir."

Manav folded his arms behind his back, staring at the city once more. 

"I used to receive taxes from every person, from every organization. The larger the entity, the more they paid me. But do you know from whom I received the most?"

Omkar hesitated. "Who?"

Manav turned back to face him. "Crimson Serpent."

Omkar's eyes widened. "That's impossible. They were criminals. You had them destroyed!"

Manav smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Don't be so naive. I sold them weapons illegally. They paid me more than any legal organization ever could."

Omkar was speechless, his mouth slightly open in shock. "You… you supported criminals?"

Manav raised a hand to silence him. 

"Everything should be balanced," he said. "Good and evil should be equal. Nothing should surpass the other. If there is too much good, the world stagnates in complacency. If there is too much evil, the world crumbles into chaos. I ensured that balance was maintained."

Omkar leaned forward, gripping the arms of his chair. "But why tell me this now? What does this have to do with the cure?"

Manav's expression darkened. "I need something from you in return for the favor I did you. Money."

Omkar exhaled, relieved that it wasn't something worse. "How much?"

Manav leaned forward slightly. "One trillion."

Omkar was taken aback but quickly recovered. "That's it? I can give you more than that."

Manav's eyes narrowed. "Stay in your limit. I only want one trillion."

Omkar swallowed hard and nodded. "Understood. I'll have it transferred immediately."

He stood up and bowed deeply. "Thank you, sir, for the credit."

Manav merely nodded, dismissing him without another word. Omkar turned and left, his mind still reeling from what he had learned. 

As soon as the doors closed behind him, Ryan Jim stepped forward from the shadows. The strongest commander of Goodie Hunters, he had been listening silently the entire time, his sharp eyes studying his leader.

"Sir," Ryan said carefully, "I knew you were planning something big."

Manav finally let out a low chuckle. "I do nothing without a plan, Ryan."

Ryan crossed his arms, nodding. "Then tell me—what's the next step?"

Manav turned back toward the window, watching the city as if he were peering into its very soul. 

"We wait," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Ryan Jim smirked. "Then I'll make sure everything is in place for when the time comes."

Manav remained silent, his mind already ten steps ahead.