Guest From The Capital

After settling everything in the medieval period, Sanjay returned to modern Earth.

He planned to stay for just an hour.

"Mom, can I go out to buy a few books? I need them," Sanjay asked his mother.

"Okay, but remember to come back in an hour," his mother replied.

"Sure," he said and quickly grabbed his cycle, heading out in search of an internet café.

Back in 2003, internet cafés and gaming parlors were among the few places with internet access. These cafés charged 20 rupees per hour, and the connections were painfully slow, with speeds of only 500 Kbps.

Sanjay entered a nearby café, rented a desktop, and began browsing. He had learned Python, a language just starting to gain traction in this era. While he knew he could code something useful, he couldn't recall anything that would quickly generate cash—at least not faster than selling gold.

His real goal was different. Sanjay wanted to find information on brokers, but not in the usual sense. He was specifically searching for brokers who had been caught for illegal activities between 1990 and 2003.

'This might sound like a dumb idea,' he thought, 'but for 2003, it's actually brilliant.'

Since he didn't personally know anyone in the industry, he figured it was better to start with those whose names were already public. He found news reports mentioning a few brokers who had been arrested, along with their names and the cities they were from. Most of them lived in Mumbai, India's financial capital and a hub for such people.

However, finding their contact information wasn't easy. Sanjay turned to telephone directories and began cross-referencing names with locations.

This research wasn't quick. It took him several days because his mother was becoming stricter as his exams approached. On top of that, he had to keep up with his school homework.

Every day at school was a slog. History classes, in particular, made his head spin with all the dates and names.

During this time, Sanjay also traveled back to the medieval period a few times. He checked on his people and delivered goods as part of his trade deals. His dealings with the fat merchant were progressing well, and he had managed to stock enough goods to last his medieval counterparts for several months.

While a week had passed for him in the modern world, nearly seven months had gone by in the medieval era. Sanjay's fortune had grown significantly—he now had almost 20,000 gold coins, even after accounting for his spending. Meanwhile, in the modern world, he had 15,000 rupees left from the 120,000 rupees he initially brought with him.

Sanjay knew he needed cash urgently. Selling gold biscuits directly to a jewelry store wasn't a viable option; it would raise too many questions. Instead, he decided to contact someone trustworthy—or at least someone who knew how to deal with such things.

From his calculations, 40 gold coins could produce 1 kilogram of 14-karat gold biscuits. This meant that his 20,000 coins could create nearly 400 kilograms of gold biscuits, worth at least 48 million Indian rupees. The sheer scale of this wealth was beyond anything Sanjay had ever imagined.

After gathering his courage, Sanjay went to the farthest phone booth he could find one weekend and dialed the first number on his list.

"Hello?" a voice answered.

"Is this Suresh?" Sanjay asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Who's this?" Suresh replied.

"I have a job for you, Suresh. I need some money transferred immediately. Can you help?" Sanjay asked, his inexperience showing in his tone.

"Sorry, wrong number." The line disconnected.

"Shit," Sanjay muttered, pulling out his notebook and crossing the name off. "Must've been someone else with the same name living in the same area."

He tried calling three more people. Each call ended the same way—they either hung up on him or turned out to be the wrong person.

Finally, he dialed the last number on his list.

The phone was picked up, but no one said anything.

"Hello, Manas," Sanjay said, but there was still silence on the other end.

"Manas, I want to transfer some money urgently. Can you help?" Sanjay asked eagerly—this was his last chance.

As soon as he finished speaking, the line was cut.

"Shit," he muttered, feeling drained. He had tried his best, but it had been unsuccessful. Maybe he should sell a few gold biscuits at another jewelry store to ease his situation for now.

Sanjay stepped out of the phone booth, depressed and lost in thought about what to do next.

Suddenly, the telephone inside the booth rang.

Tring… Tring…

The woman at the shop, noticing the sound, was about to get up, but Sanjay quickly stepped back inside the booth and picked up the phone.

"How much money do you want to transfer?" a voice said from the other end.

Realizing the call was for him, Sanjay smiled and signaled to the shopkeeper that he had it covered. The woman understood and sat back down.

"Can you convert gold into money?" Sanjay asked, cautiously.

"How much gold?" the voice inquired.

"200 kilograms of 14-karat gold," Sanjay said. He wasn't going to reveal the entire amount he had.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Okay, but I'll take a 10% commission," the voice finally replied.

"10% is fine, but only if an account is opened under a fake name, and the amount is deposited into it," Sanjay said firmly.

"Deal. Tell me your city and state."

Sanjay gave him the details.

"Got it. I'll contact my man and call you back in 10 minutes," the man said before hanging up.

Sanjay paid the shopkeeper for another hour of phone booth time. "I need to take notes from my friend," he said, smiling.

The woman laughed and waved him off. "Take as much time as you need," she said. She was making money, so she didn't mind.

After thanking her, Sanjay waited inside the shop, sipping on a cola to pass the time.

A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Sanjay quickly stood up and answered it.

"Give me the address and the time. My man will come to pick it up," the voice instructed.

Sanjay provided the address of an abandoned house near his home and described the exact hidden spot where the bag of gold would be placed. He told the man to come that night. The bag is concealed in such a specific place that it'll be impossible to find unless someone already knows where to look, he thought.

"This isn't my phone number. How will I contact you next time?" Sanjay asked.

"You can call me at 2780045," the voice replied. "It'll take at least a week to process the money. Contact me next week."

"Okay. What's your name?" Sanjay asked.

"Ramesh," the man said before hanging up.

'Ramesh? That's such a common name. It must be fake,' Sanjay thought, jotting down the number in his notebook.

He realized he had forgotten to ask how much he would receive, but he decided to leave it for next week.

Later that night, Sanjay went to the abandoned house and placed the bag of gold biscuits in the hidden spot he had mentioned. Once he was done, he returned home and sat down at his desk to study diligently.

He had used the seven months of medieval time effectively, studying like a madman during his free hours. Now, he had finally caught up to his peers in school.

'I don't remember every exam question,' Sanjay thought. 'Just a few important ones. Otherwise, I'd be sure of topping the exam.'

After studying for a few hours, Sanjay returned to the medieval world. Today, he had the same delivery to make to the fat manager.

He hadn't tried to expand his business yet, as he still didn't have a reliable way to make money. But if this deal with Ramesh worked out, he'd have a stable source of income and could start contacting other merchants.

With the usual load of goods, Sanjay climbed into the carriage he had bought for deliveries and headed to the shop.

A few minutes later, he arrived, but something felt off. There were about ten soldiers guarding the shop's entrance, and the fat manager was outside, visibly sweating.

As soon as the manager saw Sanjay, he rushed toward him.

"Sanjay, someone from the capital has come to meet you," the manager said hurriedly.

"To meet me? Why?" Sanjay asked, confused. He didn't know anyone from the capital.

With embarrassment, the manager confessed, "Actually, it's because of me. I sent a few of your samples to our capital's head shop. Someone came to meet you because of that. But trust me, Sanjay, this is a good thing for you—your business will grow because of it."

The manager was trying to reassure him. Previously, he had tried to figure out where Sanjay's goods came from but always hit a dead end. Every lead would end at the villa Sanjay had purchased. There were no visible signs of goods entering or leaving the villa. All the manager knew was that, once a week, Sanjay would load his carriage and deliver the goods here. Beyond that, he was clueless.

"Okay, let's see what they want," Sanjay said. He had no idea why someone from the capital would want to meet him, so he decided to follow the fat manager inside.

When they entered the shop, Sanjay noticed a man in his twenties sitting in a chair, sipping what appeared to be tea from a cup.

The man was wearing a shirt and pants Sanjay recognized as ones he'd sold before. This piqued Sanjay's curiosity—he hadn't sold those clothes to this shop.

When the man saw Sanjay, he calmly set his tea aside. His demeanor was full of arrogance. He didn't smile or even acknowledge Sanjay's arrival, nor did he invite him to sit.

Undeterred, Sanjay took a seat in the chair opposite the man.

The man frowned. "Where I come from, people don't sit in front of me without my permission," he said coldly.

Sanjay replied evenly, "Where I come from, people show the same respect to a king, even if he's from an enemy kingdom."

Hearing this, the man's eyebrows furrowed slightly. He hadn't expected such a sharp retort from someone so young. Though the sentence was simple, its deeper meaning was clear: I am your equal and deserve the same respect.

After a moment of thought, the man smiled, understanding the implication.

Noticing the smile, Sanjay relaxed. He extended his hand and introduced himself. "I'm Sanjay."

The man shook his hand with a smile. "Rajiv."

P.S: Hope you're enjoying the story! Please send me power stones if you like it. Add it to your collection, and don't forget to comment and vote.