Ch-11 "The Arrival of The Greatest Detective"

Scene: Arrival in India

The scene shifts to an Indian airport. The air was hot, humid, and heavy with the lingering scent of exhaust and anxiety. Théodore Marchand, the renowned French strategist and former detective, stepped out of the terminal, his sharp eyes scanning the chaotic landscape in front of him.

The streets bustled with life, but there was an undeniable shadow lingering over the city — the kind only an experienced eye could catch. Théodore adjusted the cuffs of his dark grey coat and muttered under his breath with a faint smirk,"GAC's influence is evident here too… They've already started corrupting this place. But that's alright. I'll change everything, one step at a time."

As he walked through the bustling streets, absorbing the sights and sounds of the unfamiliar environment, a commotion caught his attention. A thief dashed past him, clutching a woman's purse. The woman shouted, panic in her voice.

With calm precision, Théodore turned slightly."Stop," he said — his voice low, but commanding.In one fluid motion, he extended his leg, tripping the thief with a calculated kick that sent the man sprawling to the ground. Without waiting for praise or attention, he picked up the purse and handed it back to the astonished woman. She opened her mouth to thank him, but he had already walked away, vanishing into the crowd.

He wiped the dust from his coat and looked around the city with thoughtful intensity."I'll need a base of operations," he mused internally."Somewhere I can gather intel and start making contact with the right — or wrong — people."

Soon after, he found an old, neglected shop space in a semi-crowded alley. After negotiating with the shop owner — with little resistance due to the declining economy — Théodore bought the place outright. Within hours, he was customizing the interiors by hand, transforming the dusty room into the early foundations of a command post.

"Before I move against GAC, I need the people's trust," he thought, pausing as he moved a desk into position."Their problems, their pain — I must understand it all firsthand. Only then will they tell me what I truly need to know."

He sat briefly, rubbing his temples, and recalled the message that brought him here."The man who invited me never revealed his identity. Just a letter. Just clues. Nothing solid. Whoever he is... he wants me in the middle of this storm."

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of his homeland."I hope Mathieu can manage France in my absence. He's my best subordinate... maybe even my only real friend. But I can't afford to doubt him now."

He opened his eyes, gaze steeled."The game has begun. And I intend to win."