Varun walked out of the college gates, his mind racing. The afternoon sun burned down on the Hyderabad streets, but he barely noticed. His heart pounded in his chest, not from nervousness, but from the sheer determination running through his veins.
₹10,000.
That was his first goal. The first step to unlocking his Stock Market Prediction ability.
And to do that, he needed ₹500 to start betting on the upcoming IPL matches. He knew the outcomes, and with even a small amount, he could multiply his money quickly.
But there was one problem.
He had nothing.
If he wanted money, he had to ask his father.
Varun clenched his jaw, already anticipating how that conversation would go.
Returning Home
His house wasn't far, just a 20-minute bus ride away. As he stood in the crowded bus, holding onto the metal bars above, he stared out at the busy Hyderabad streets.
It had been years since he had last seen these roads in daylight—before his life had fallen apart.
Finally, the bus stopped near his neighborhood. He stepped off and walked towards his house—a modest, small two-bedroom apartment in an aging building. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the iron gate creaked as he pushed it open.
The smell of spices and stale air filled his nostrils as he stepped inside.
"Nothing has changed."
As he walked through the small hallway, he heard a familiar voice.
"Why are you back so early?"
Varun turned to see his father, Ramakrishna, sitting on the worn-out sofa with a newspaper in his hands. His father was still in his bank clerk uniform—light blue shirt tucked into black trousers. He had the same disapproving look in his eyes.
His mother, Lakshmi, stepped out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her saree. Her eyes landed on him, and she sighed as if seeing him was a burden.
"Yeah… nothing has changed."
His younger brother, Arjun, was in Delhi, studying at IIT.
A first-year student, excelling in academics. The pride of the family. The son who mattered.
And Varun?
Just another failure.
The Disrespect of a Father
Varun took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. He stepped forward.
"Dad, I need ₹500."
His father's eyes narrowed immediately.
"₹500? What for?" His voice was cold, suspicious.
Varun knew how this worked. His father never gave him money easily.
"I… I need it for some college work," he said, keeping his voice steady.
His father scoffed. "College work? Didn't I give you ₹1,000 last month? Where did that go? Always wasting money, never doing anything useful."
Varun stood still, clenching his fists in his pockets.
In his past life, he would have argued. He would have said something back, tried to prove his worth.
But now?
Now, he knew better.
Words didn't matter. Money did.
His father stared at him, then sighed, shaking his head. "You'll never be like Arjun. Always asking for money, never earning it yourself."
Then, with a grunt, he pulled out his wallet and threw ₹500 on the floor.
"Take it and don't ask me for more."
Varun's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm.
Slowly, he bent down and picked up the crumpled notes.
He endured it.
In the past, this humiliation would have eaten him alive. But today?
He didn't care.
Because soon, he would never have to ask this man for money again.
His mother watched from the doorway, not saying a word.
Not even a glance of concern. Nothing.
Varun pocketed the money, turned around, and walked out of the house.
He didn't look back.
Entering the World of Betting
Varun made his way to a small cyber café near the main market. The place was dimly lit, packed with young guys playing online games and some shady men huddled over betting sites.
He knew exactly where to go.
Sitting at a corner computer, he opened the browser and searched for one of the underground IPL betting websites.
Back in 2010, online betting wasn't as big or regulated in India. But there were still ways to place bets through local bookmakers and shady websites.
He logged in, using an account name that no one would trace back to him.
His hands hovered over the keyboard as he navigated to the betting section.
The IPL semi-finals were coming up.
And he knew exactly what was going to happen.
The underdog team would win against all odds.A star player would shock everyone with a match-winning performance.The final would be an intense match, but he already knew the outcome.
Varun smirked.
"People bet on luck. I'm betting on certainty."
He deposited ₹500 into his account.
Now, it was time to place the bet.
His heart pounded as he entered the details, calculating the odds. This one bet could turn ₹500 into ₹5,000 or more.
And once that happened?
He would repeat the process until he had enough to complete his first mission.
The moment he clicked "Place Bet," a notification popped up.
━━━ BET PLACED SUCCESSFULLY ━━━
[Potential Winnings: ₹4,800]
Varun leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening.
This was just the beginning.
Soon, money would never be a problem again.
And those who had looked down on him?
They would regret it.