The Tycoon's Odyssey

Justice Meera Sharma, an elderly woman with sharp eyes and a commanding presence, banged her gavel, prompting the murmurs to instantly cease.

"The court has reviewed all the evidence presented over the past few weeks," she began, her voice cutting through the silence. "The corruption, embezzlement, and abuse of power committed by these individuals have not only betrayed the public's trust but have caused irreparable harm to countless lives."

She paused, her penetrating gaze sweeping across the accused. Her expression was stern. "Amit Rathore, as the former Minister of Infrastructure, you were entrusted with the development of this nation. Instead, you siphoned billions into your personal accounts, leaving cities in disrepair and countless citizens homeless. Your greed has ruined families, and your actions have contributed to the collapse of vital projects. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Amit Rathore hesitated, his lips trembling. He shot a look at the crowd, then at the judge. His voice cracked as he said, "I—I was misled. I didn't act alone! There were others—"

"Silence!" Justice Sharma's voice cut through his plea like a blade. "Your attempts to shift blame only reinforce your cowardice. The evidence clearly shows that you were the mastermind behind many of these schemes. Your excuses hold no weight in this court."

Turning her stern gaze to the other ministers, the judge continued. "The rest of you are no less guilty. From education to healthcare, every department you managed became a cesspool of corruption and negligence. Your crimes have left this nation reeling, and the people demand justice."

The murmurs in the courtroom grew louder as she prepared to deliver her verdict.

"Amit Rathore," she declared firmly, "you are sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. Furthermore, all the assets acquired by you during your tenure will be confiscated and redirected toward rebuilding the infrastructure you destroyed."

The room erupted in gasps and whispers while Amit Rathore's face lost all of its color. "Life imprisonment?" he stammered. "This is unjust! I was framed!"

But no matter how much he pleaded, the gavel slammed down. "Order in the court!"

Justice Sharma pressed on, addressing the rest of the accused. "As for the remaining accused, each of you is sentenced to 25 years of rigorous imprisonment. Your personal wealth will be seized and allocated to public welfare projects. Your positions and privileges are permanently revoked."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Amit felt the world around him collapse as the weight of the sentence bore down on him…25 years of imprisonment.

Would he even be alive after a few years?

That bastard Evan would surely not let this go.

One of the younger ministers broke down in tears, his sobs echoing in the tense courtroom. Another muttered a curse under his breath but dared not speak louder.

Outside, the crowd gathered around large screens erupted in jubilant cheers. People hugged one another, tears of relief and joy streaming down their faces as they celebrated this long-awaited moment of accountability.

As the officers moved to escort the convicted out of the courtroom, Justice Sharma issued a final statement. "Let this serve as a message to all who dare to exploit their positions of power: the law will find you. Justice will prevail."

Amit Sharma was the first one to be dragged out, his face twisting in anger and fear. The crowd outside roared louder as they hurled more tomatoes, eggs, and curses while he was shoved into a police van.

_____

Suri sat in the lavishly decorated study, her eyes fixed on the large screen mounted on the wall. The live broadcast of the courtroom proceedings played out in real-time, capturing the scene of Amit and the other ministers being hauled away in chains. The distant roar of the crowd could be heard faintly through the speakers—a mix of cheers and jeers echoing the public's long-awaited vindication.

Leaning back in her chair, she exhaled deeply as she turned to Evan, who was seated calmly on a nearby couch. He sipped his tea with an air of detachment, seemingly unaffected by the commotion playing on the screen. But the sharp glint in his eyes betrayed the weight of his thoughts, his mind clearly preoccupied.

"Finally," Suri broke the silence, her voice heavy with satisfaction, "we've gotten rid of all the diseased roots that have been dragging Indra backwards."

Evan didn't respond immediately. He placed his cup on the table with a soft clink and glanced at the screen one last time. His face was cold, his expression unreadable.

"Do you really not want to kill him?" Suri asked curiously, making Evan pause before he let out a low chuckle.

"Once, I did. I wanted to kill and torture that guy. I wanted him to be cut into pieces, but…"

"But?" Suri prompted, leaning forward slightly.

"But," he said with a scoff, 'I find all that meaningless now!"

"Killing him wouldn't matter anymore since I have found my happiness and peace. Besides, death would be a mercy for him. Letting him live a life worse than the dog's—that's the real thing."

"Not at all benevolent," Suri teased before tilting her head, trying to study him.

"So now what?" she asked, her curiosity evident despite her measured tone.

Evan's gaze shifted to her, sharp and calculating. "Now," he said, his voice steady, "it's time for a full-scale rectification."

His words caused Suri to raise an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Evan leaned forward, his fingers intertwining as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Eliminating the problem isn't enough. The systems they corrupted, the networks they built, the culture of complacency and greed—it all needs to be dismantled. Root and stem."

The corner of Suri's lips curled into a faint smirk. "So, you plan to rebuild Indra from the ground up?"

"Not just rebuild," Evan replied, his voice turning colder. "Restructure. Reform. Reforge. This nation has been stuck in the same cycle of weak leaders, outdated systems, and blind traditions for too long. It's time for Indra to become what it was meant to be—a force to be reckoned with."

Suri leaned forward, her piercing gaze locking with his. "And who's going to lead this 'rectification'? You?"

Evan smirked, a glimmer of arrogance lighting his otherwise composed demeanor. "Who else is capable?"

Suri let out a soft chuckle but didn't dispute his claim. She turned her attention back to the screen, where reporters were now covering the aftermath of the verdict in detail. "You do realize this isn't going to sit well with the remaining elites. They'll see you as a bigger threat now."

Evan's smirk faded, replaced by an icy resolve. "Let them. I've never been the one to play nice with those who think they can challenge me."

For a moment, a heavy silence fell between them, the weight of their unspoken plans settling heavily in the room.

Finally, Suri broke the silence, her tone softer yet laced with a hint of amusement. "You know, you could at least pretend to be human every once in a while. It might make people a little less afraid of you."

Evan glanced at her, his smirk returning faintly. "Fear is far more effective than trust, don't you agree?"

Suri rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Just don't let that arrogance blind you, Evan. Rectification or not, this is just the beginning."

Evan rose to his feet, his expression as unyielding as ever. "Good. Beginnings are where I thrive."