The morning sunlight lazily stretched its fingers over the slums, poking through shattered rooftops and dancing across the worn-out bricks of a barely-standing house. Inside, Aryan, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, looked at his Grandpa Ganpat, who sat cross-legged on a tattered rug, polishing a cracked tea kettle like it was some ancient treasure.
"Grandpa?" Aryan blinked. "I had a weird dream. You were telling me to rob a palace."
Ganpat grinned like a child caught red-handed. "That wasn't a dream, my boy. That was divine inspiration. From me."
'What the hell?!'
The System, ever calm but with the exasperation of a middle-aged schoolteacher who had long given up on his students, sighed deeply in Aryan's mind.
[System]: "I've processed over ten million hosts (Hypothetically). This one's the first who's being led to felony by a man who thinks curry leaves are a cultivation herb."
Ganpat scratched his beard thoughtfully, ignoring the insult he couldn't hear. "Listen, lad. You've just stepped onto the path of cultivation. You've opened the Mooladhara, the First Chakra. That's like planting a seed. But without the right manual, it won't grow—it'll just rot like the last mango I left under the bed."
Aryan hesitated. "So... robbing the treasury of Vaikunth Dham is... what? Watering the seed?"
"Exactly!" Ganpat beamed. "You're learning!"
[System]: "He's learning felony. Wonderful. Should I upload a prison break manual while we're at it?"
Aryan ignored the sarcastic voice and tilted his head. "But wait, Grandpa. You never told me how strong people at different levels really are. You said I'm 1st Chakra, Level 1. But how strong does that make me?"
Ganpat stood up proudly, puffing his chest. "A good question! Chakra has seven levels, and each level has four stages: Novice, Intermediate, Master, and Perfection."
[System]: "Finally, the man speaks something that isn't completely lunatic. Let me translate it before he compares power to spicy pickles."
Ganpat held up his fingers. "Say, a Novice 1st Chakra cultivator can lift 25 kilograms, punch through a wooden plank, or carry two sacks of rice without crying."
Aryan blinked. "And Perfection?"
"Hundred kilograms." Ganpat snapped his fingers. "Punch clean through metal sheets. Maybe bend steel bars like they're dough."
[System]: "Correct. Each level is a mountain, but each stage within it is like building muscle to climb that mountain. Just reaching a level doesn't mean you've mastered it. That's why Novice to Perfection exists. A Perfection cultivator is up to four times stronger than a Novice of the same level."
Aryan's eyes lit up. "That's... cool."
"But remember," Ganpat added, his tone suddenly heavier, "once you meet someone from Chakra 2, you'll realize how low you are in the food chain."
[System]: "Let's just say this: A Level 1 Chakra 2 user can smack around ten Level 7 Chakra 1 users like they're training dummies. And beasts? They're worse. A Chakra 2 Stage 7 beast could eat a human cultivator two levels above it for breakfast."
Aryan gulped. "Why are you telling me this now?!"
"Because you're about to break into the lion's den to steal a cultivation manual," Ganpat grinned. "A little fear keeps the legs nimble."
[System]: "Or paralyzed. Depending on IQ."
Aryan squinted. "Wait, can I use Insight on you to check your level?"
He activated it instinctively. Over Ganpat's head, a floating translucent text appeared.
???
"Triple question marks?" Aryan muttered.
[System]: "Two reasons for that: Either the subject is too powerful for me to scan, or—more likely—he's a clueless mortal with no chakra at all."
Ganpat suddenly sneezed. "Some idiot just insulted me, I'm sure of it."
Meanwhile, in the royal palace of Vaikunth Dham...
The palace bustled with unusually tight security. King Rudrayan, tall, scarred, and eternally calm, stood with his royal Bishop, whispering in the shadows of the inner court.
"The beast is restless again," the King said, his voice like distant thunder.
The Bishop nodded. "The dragon-blooded beast, Taarask, has reached Chakra 2, Stage 7. Even sealed, it radiates pressure. If someone disturbs the treasury, it will be... messy."
"We leave tonight. The capital must not know the reason."
The Bishop bowed.
Unseen, behind a thick velvet curtain, Princess Roshni, all of six years old, narrowed her eyes.
"So you're leaving... Hmph. All the more reason to break the rules."
She slipped silently from behind the curtains and disappeared into her quarters.
In a secret chamber of the palace...
Roshni stood before her mirror, tying her hair back into a tight bun. Her black stealth suit hugged her tiny frame. Despite her age, her movements were precise, trained, and far too agile for any normal child.
She spun once, her fingers weaving an advanced hand technique.
"I'm Level 3 of Chakra 1," she muttered. "That's decent. But I need to reach Level 4 before the Martial Arts Tournament. I won't let those bratty princes mock me again."
She glanced at the window. "The treasury holds the manual. The guards won't notice someone this small."
She smirked.
"And if they do? Well... I hope they've trained their ankles."
Back in the slums...
"So you're saying," Aryan frowned, "that we should break into the palace treasury, sneak past multiple Chakra-level guards, grab a precious cultivation manual, and sneak out again... without getting caught."
"Yes," Grandpa nodded.
[System]: "This plan is so stupid, it's almost genius. Almost."
"But what if we die?" Aryan whispered.
"Then we'll die proud," Ganpat said, lifting a rusted spoon like it was a weapon of justice.
[System]: "Note to self: Next host must be selected only after a full mental health screening."
Aryan sighed. "Alright... but you're staying behind?"
"Of course. My arthritis's acting up." Ganpat coughed suspiciously.
Aryan glared.
[System]: "He's sending a six-year-old to rob a military fortress while he sits at home sipping tea. If I ever write a memoir, this chapter will be titled: How Not to Be a Mentor."
Later that night, in the darkened alleys near the palace walls...
Aryan crouched in the shadows, eyes scanning the golden-lit perimeter.
A voice echoed in his mind.
[System]: "Observe the walls. Triple patrols. Increased guard rotations. Something's changed. Either the King is out, or something big is happening inside."
Aryan whispered, "But that's good, right?"
[System]: "Or bad. Depending on how you define dying horribly."
Aryan activated Focused Mind. The world narrowed. His thoughts cleared.
Even the System sounded... impressed.
[System]: "...You know, back in the day, we used to call that mental clarity. Now it's a skill. I want a refund."
Meanwhile, deep in the treasury corridors...
Roshni tiptoed under floating lanterns. Her little hands made swift, calculated movements.
She knew the layout. She knew the patrol timings. She was six. And she was dangerous.
I'll find that manual.
I'll win the tournament.
And Father won't be able to stop me this time.
She paused. A noise echoed down the stone hall.
She wasn't alone.