"What is the police department doing? It's the fourth murder this month. Pune is living in terror. Again, a lifeless body has been found in less than 24 hours."

Anargh Rathore's dark gaze was fixed on the screen, his eyes narrow, yet unfocused. His expression was unreadable, as always. The reports had come in fast, and there was no time to waste on sentiment. His hand tightened into a fist, knuckles turning white as the anchor's voice echoed in his mind, yet he didn't react. He simply continued to stare, the words of the broadcast seeping deeper into his consciousness.

The cabin was quiet, only the voice of the anchor breaking the silence, as if the room itself was holding its breath. Files were scattered across the table in front of him, a chaotic mess of paper, but to Anargh, they were just pieces of the puzzle—his puzzle.

"Sir, this is getting out of hand. How are we supposed to solve this case?" The voice came from behind him—Tej, his trusted Sub-Inspector. Anargh didn't flinch at the sound of Tej's voice; he barely acknowledged it. His attention remained solely on the television, the words pressing against his mind, but his face remained impassive, a mask that few could break.

"Who is our protector? Who will save us from these murders? People are afraid to step out of their houses. Children are refusing to go to school. No one dares to leave their homes, all in fear of these chain murders. Is this the safety the government provides? What is the police doing?"

Before the anchor could continue her tirade, Anargh slammed his fist onto the remote, shutting off the television with a sharp click. His face remained unreadable, but his fingers began to rub his forehead—thumb, index, and middle finger pressing against his skin, as though massaging away the weight of his thoughts. His eyes closed for a moment, the stress of the case finally beginning to show.

"Switching off the TV won't stop the bloodshed." The voice was calm, but firm. It came from the door, and Anargh knew immediately who it was.

"Inspector Rathore," the voice continued. "The Commissioner is expecting you in the meeting. We need you in there now."

It was Deshmukh, a senior officer who had arrived to deliver the message, his face stern but respectful. Anargh's gaze lifted, meeting Deshmukh's eyes, but there was no change in his expression. He simply stood up, his posture rigid. He had seen Deshmukh's message a hundred times before—urgent, but never urgent enough.

Anargh turned to Tej, who was still standing by the door, holding a handful of files.

"Let's go," he said, his voice a soft command, and with a nod from Tej, they both exited the cabin.

The meeting room was an imposing space. The walls were lined with dull gray paint, giving off a sense of sterility, but the dark wooden table in the center exuded authority. At one end of the room, a large white screen flickered, ready to display case files and evidence. The faint hum of the overhead projector filled the silence. The rectangular table could seat around 12 people, but today it was occupied by seven officers, all seated in stiff-backed chairs, their expressions varying from concern to exhaustion. The air smelled faintly of paper and ink, mixed with the scent of stale coffee that had been brewing somewhere in the corner for far too long.

The door creaked open, and all gazes turned toward it. Anargh Rathore stepped in first, his tall, lean figure commanding attention as though he owned the room. His honey-toned skin looked striking under the pale fluorescent light, and his face, sharp and angular, was framed by neatly trimmed hair and a well-groomed mustache that added a mature edge to his youthful appearance. His dark black eyes, calm yet piercing, scanned the room briefly before he moved toward his seat, his long strides echoing slightly against the tiled floor. His fitted black shirt and dark gray trousers were devoid of any wrinkles, his polished black boots clicking softly with each step.

Anargh had an aura of quiet authority, the kind that didn't need words to announce its presence. Despite being only 27, he had achieved what most officers in the room could only dream of. There was something about his demeanor—unshakable, unreadable—that unsettled his peers, and perhaps even intimidated some of his seniors.

Behind him entered Tejvir, or Tej, his trusted sub-inspector. At 25, Tej was younger but no less imposing. He had a solid build with broad shoulders and a sharp jawline. Tej's presence was calmer compared to Anargh's stormy intensity, but it was still powerful in its own right. Dressed in a crisp navy-blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves, Tej carried the stack of files for the meeting in one hand with practiced ease.

Tej's aura was strikingly similar to Anargh's—calm, collected, and deliberate. But where Anargh's presence could silence a room, Tej's offered a quiet sense of reassurance, as though he was the calm shadow to Anargh's unwavering light. Together, they balanced each other perfectly, a formidable duo in the department.

Anargh approached his seat without a word, pulling out the chair with deliberate slowness and lowering himself into it. He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed but alert, his long fingers resting lightly on the edge of the table. Tej took the seat beside him, his movements less formal but no less purposeful, placing the files neatly in front of Anargh before settling back into his chair. While Anargh's gaze was fixed on the screen, Tej's eyes darted around the room, taking note of the officers present and the tension that hung heavily in the air.

As the two men settled, whispers that had been floating in the room died instantly. The Commissioner, a seasoned man with graying hair and a gruff demeanor, stood at the head of the table, his presence demanding respect. His sharp eyes scanned the room before settling on Anargh.

"This case," the Commissioner began, his voice low but firm, "is now the department's top priority."

The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Anargh's dark eyes flicked briefly to the Commissioner before returning to the files in front of him. His expression remained impassive, but his fingers tapped lightly against the table, the only sign of the wheels turning in his mind.

"The government is on our backs," the Commissioner continued, his tone laced with frustration. "The media is tearing us apart, and the public is in complete panic. Pune is a city under siege—not by an army, but by fear. Schools are shutting down. Businesses are closing early. Parents are terrified to let their children out of their sight. And the murders—"

He paused, glancing at the screen where images of the latest crime scene were displayed. The lifeless body of the victim stared back at them, a chilling reminder of their failure thus far.

"The murders are getting more brutal," the Commissioner said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "And we have no leads. No suspects. Just bodies piling up."

Anargh's jaw tightened, and he adjusted the files slightly, but remained utterly still, his gaze unreadable as he absorbed the information.

"Inspector Rathore," the Commissioner said, addressing him directly now. "This case is yours. You're in charge. You're the head of this operation, and I don't need to tell you how critical this is. You've never taken more than two weeks to solve any case, but this—" He gestured toward the screen, his hand trembling slightly. "This is different. This is bigger than anything we've faced before."

Anargh leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. "I'm aware," he said, his voice calm and measured. "And I'll deliver, as always."

There was no arrogance in his tone, just a quiet confidence that silenced any doubts in the room. Still, there was an edge of tension in the air, and Tej, sensing it, decided to add his own voice to the conversation.

"We understand the urgency, sir," Tej said, his tone steady. "And we'll handle it. Rathore sir and I are already coordinating efforts to—"

"This isn't just about coordination, Tejvir," the Commissioner interrupted, his tone sharper now. "This is about results. The city is counting on us, and we can't afford another failure."

Tej's lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to Anargh, who gave him a barely perceptible nod in return. It was a silent reassurance, a reminder that they had faced worse odds before.

The Commissioner continued, his voice growing more passionate as he described the terror that had gripped the city. "The public needs to see that we're in control. The media is questioning our every move, and the government wants answers yesterday. Rathore, I'm counting on you. Solve this. Quickly."

Anargh's gaze finally lifted, meeting the Commissioner's eyes directly. His expression remained calm, but there was a glint of determination in his dark eyes.

"We'll find the killer," he said simply. And when he spoke, it was not a promise—it was a certainty.

"We trust you, Mr. Rathore," said another officer sitting further down the table. It was Pradeep Sharma, the head of a neighboring district's task force—a man who, despite his experience, often found subtle ways to challenge Anargh's authority. His tone was polished, but there was an undercurrent of condescension that prickled at the edges of his words. "But this case… it's too complicated to solve alone."

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. All eyes flicked toward Anargh, waiting for his reaction.

Anargh didn't move immediately. His dark black eyes, always calm and inscrutable, narrowed ever so slightly, the lids lowering in a way that made them look sharper, more piercing. It wasn't anger—not outright—but a quiet, simmering irritation that was almost imperceptible. Almost.

The corner of his mouth twitched, just once, before settling back into its usual neutral line. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his long fingers drumming softly against the edge of the table. The movement was so subtle, so deliberate, that it was almost unnerving.

"We need a professional," Pradeep continued, his voice growing more confident as he mistook Anargh's silence for hesitation. "This killer isn't just a random criminal. The patterns, the precision—it suggests something far more sophisticated. Perhaps even someone trained. It's not a slight against you, Rathore, but we can't afford to rely on one man's expertise alone."

Tej, seated beside Anargh, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His jaw tightened, and his grip on the stack of files in front of him grew firmer. He opened his mouth, ready to defend his superior, but a single glance from Anargh stopped him. It wasn't a sharp look, but a calm, steady one that said more than words ever could.

Anargh finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "A professional, you say?"

Pradeep nodded, his expression smug, as if he had just won an argument. "Yes. Someone with a specialized skill set. Perhaps a criminal profiler or—"

Anargh leaned forward slightly, his movements slow and deliberate. The room seemed to shrink around him as his presence grew larger, more commanding. "With all due respect, Mr. Sharma," he said, his tone measured, "what exactly do you think I've been doing for the last six years? Playing Sudoku?"

A faint ripple of amusement flickered across the faces of a few officers in the room, quickly stifled as Pradeep's expression darkened. Anargh's gaze didn't waver, his dark eyes fixed on the man with the intensity of a hawk sizing up its prey.

"This isn't my first case," Anargh continued, his voice steady, almost unnervingly so. "And it certainly isn't the first time I've dealt with something 'complicated.'" His fingers tapped the edge of the table once, twice, a soft rhythm that seemed to punctuate his words. "You're right about one thing—this killer is precise, calculated. But you're wrong if you think bringing in an outsider will solve this faster."

Pradeep shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but Anargh didn't give him a chance to respond. "This isn't a puzzle for someone to solve in a clean, air-conditioned office with theories and graphs. This is a battlefield. And battles aren't won by theorists. They're won by soldiers." He leaned back again, his expression returning to its calm, unreadable state. "And I've been fighting this battle from the start."

The room was silent again, the weight of Anargh's words pressing down on everyone present. Even the Commissioner, who had been watching the exchange with a critical eye, seemed momentarily impressed.

"Mr. Rathore," Pradeep said, his tone laced with thinly veiled satisfaction. "This isn't just a suggestion anymore. It's an order from the state government. You will be required to collaborate with a professional detective, whether you like it or not."

Anargh didn't react immediately. He stayed perfectly still, his dark black eyes fixed on Pradeep with an intensity that seemed to freeze the man in place. The silence stretched, filling the room with a quiet tension that felt almost unbearable. Even Tej shifted in his chair, sensing the subtle storm brewing within his senior.

Then, Anargh moved—slowly, deliberately. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table, his fingers interlocking as he stared down Pradeep. His honey-toned face, set in its usual hard expression, softened just slightly. But the softness wasn't comforting; it was razor-sharp, like the calm before a strike. His eyes narrowed just a fraction, making them appear smaller and even more piercing, like the sharp edge of a blade.

"I see," he said finally, his voice low and measured. "So it's an order, is it?"

Pradeep nodded, trying to maintain his smug composure. "That's correct."

Anargh tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "And this… professional," he said, the word rolling off his tongue with a hint of disdain. "Will they be taking orders from me, or am I to take orders from them?"

The question hung in the air, sharp and cutting. Pradeep faltered for a moment, clearly not expecting this response. "Well, it's a collaboration, of course. You'll be… working together."

"Interesting." Anargh leaned back again, his movements slow and calculated. He glanced at the Commissioner, who was watching the exchange with furrowed brows. Then, he turned his attention back to Pradeep. "Tell me, Mr. Sharma, do you believe this 'professional'—who, I assume, has no prior knowledge of this case—will magically solve a series of murders in a city they barely know? Or is this just an attempt to shift the blame onto someone else when things don't go as planned?"

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Tej's lips. He quickly masked it, but the admiration in his eyes was unmistakable.

Pradeep's face reddened, his composure slipping. "This is not about shifting blame, Rathore. It's about doing everything we can to solve this case—"

"And I am doing everything I can," Anargh cut in smoothly, his voice still calm but with an unmistakable edge. "I've been doing everything I can since the first body was discovered. And while I appreciate the state government's concern," he added, his tone dripping with subtle sarcasm, "I don't need someone parachuting in and disrupting the chain of command. What I need is support—resources, manpower, time. Not interference."

The Commissioner finally intervened, raising a hand to silence the brewing argument. "Enough," he said firmly. His gaze shifted between Anargh and Pradeep. "This is not the time for petty squabbles. Mr. Rathore, the state government's decision is final. You will work with the detective they've assigned. But you will remain the lead on this case. Do I make myself clear?"

Anargh's jaw tightened, but he gave a slight nod. "Crystal clear, sir."

Tej, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "If I may, sir," he said, addressing the Commissioner, "with all due respect to the state government's decision, I'd like to point out that Mr. Rathore has never taken more than two weeks to solve a case, no matter how complex. I don't think there's anyone better suited to lead this investigation."

The Commissioner gave Tej a thoughtful look before nodding. "Noted, Sub-Inspector Tajvir. But the decision stands."

Anargh said nothing. He simply sat back in his chair, his expression unreadable. But beneath the surface, his mind was already at work, strategizing, calculating. If the state wanted to send in a professional, so be it. But Anargh Rathore wasn't about to let anyone undermine his authority—or his ability to solve this case.

He glanced at Tej, who met his gaze with a subtle nod of support. Then, with a calm yet commanding presence that seemed to fill the room, Anargh turned his attention back to the files in front of him, as though the discussion had already ended.

The meeting continued, but the unspoken message was clear: no matter who joined the investigation, this was still his case. And Anargh Rathore wasn't about to let anyone forget it.