The last thing Arjun Varma remembered was the taste of coffee—bitter, cheap, exactly how he liked it—and the blinding glare of headlights.
Then nothing.
Then everything.
His eyes snapped open. The ceiling above him was wrong—ornate wooden panels carved with scenes of warriors in combat, dragons coiling through clouds, symbols he didn't recognize. Definitely not his studio apartment's water-stained ceiling. Definitely not Earth.
What the—
Pain. Not in his body—in his mind. Information flooded his consciousness like someone had opened a dam directly into his brain. Images. Names. Memories that weren't his.
A woman's face. Beautiful. Smiling. Meera.
Seven girls—different ages, different faces, all calling him "Dad." Tara, Leela, Kavya, Riya, Anya, Diya, Ishani.
A business empire. Varma Industries. Shipping, manufacturing, real estate. Fifteen billion credits in assets.
A funeral. Meera in a coffin. Three years ago. Illness. Sudden. The girls crying.
And then—
A young man. Raging. Swearing vengeance. "You killed my parents, Varma. I'll take everything from you. Your company. Your daughters. Your life."
Arjun sat up slowly. His hand touched his chest, feeling his heart hammer. But his face remained calm. His mind—honed by years of corporate warfare, of reading opponents, of always being three moves ahead—processed everything instantly.
Transmigration. I've been transmigrated into a novel. As the villain.
And I have two and a half years before the protagonist comes to kill me.
He smiled. It was not a warm smile.
Two and a half years. For a strategist? That's an eternity.
Blue text materialized in the air before him. Sharp, clinical, perfectly formed.
[TRANSMIGRATION COMPLETE]
[HOST: ARJUN VARMA]
[PREVIOUS IDENTITY: EARTH, CORPORATE STRATEGIST]
[CURRENT IDENTITY: AELORIA, VALDRIS CONTINENT, VARMA INDUSTRIES]
[TIME UNTIL ORIGINAL FATE: 2 YEARS, 6 MONTHS, 3 DAYS]
"System. Explain everything."
[PROCESSING...]
The screen expanded, filling his vision with data. Arjun absorbed it like a sponge.
WORLD: AELORIA — Four continents. Valdris (industrialized, merchant guilds). Sylvaris (martial arts traditions). Zephyria (scholarly, medical). Drakhan (warrior tribes).
TECHNOLOGY: Modern equivalent—smartphones, vehicles, air travel, internet. No firearms. Martial arts cultivation dominates combat.
CULTIVATION REALMS: Initiate → Energy Adept → Energy Master → Grandmaster → Sovereign → Transcendent → Immortal.
HOST STATUS: Head of Varma Industries. Wealth ranking: 12th in Valdris. Cultivation: None (Initiate level—peak human only). Widower. Seven adopted daughters.
DAUGHTERS:
· Tara (16): Responsible, motherly, serious. Business management talent.
· Leela (15): Rebellious, outspoken, protective. Martial arts potential.
· Kavya (14): Quiet, observant, bookish. Academic genius.
· Riya (12): Creative, emotional, artistic. Musical prodigy.
· Anya (10): Energetic, curious, fearless. Athletic.
· Diya (9): Gentle, kind, empathetic. Healing nature.
· Ishani (8): Innocent, playful, perceptive. Can sense lies.
ORIGINAL FATE: Arjun Varma (original) killed business rivals—the Desai family. Survivor: Rohan Desai (age 12). Disappeared. Returns in 2.5 years as Energy Master. Kills Arjun. Daughters taken. Empire destroyed.
Arjun read the final lines. His expression didn't change.
Rohan Desai. Seventeen now. Training somewhere in Sylvaris. Growing stronger every day.
And when he returns, he'll be an Energy Master.
Arjun looked at his own hands. No cultivation. No combat training. Just a strategist's brain in a businessman's body.
Perfect.
"System. Can you track Rohan Desai?"
[PROTAGONIST DETECTION PROTOCOL: ACTIVE ONLY WITHIN 5 KILOMETERS OF HOST]
[ROHAN DESAI: OUTSIDE RANGE]
[ESTIMATED LOCATION: SYLVARIS CONTINENT, AZURE PEAK SECT]
[ESTIMATED RETURN: 2 YEARS, 3 MONTHS, 18 DAYS (EARLIER THAN ORIGINAL FATE)]
Arjun's eyes narrowed. Earlier? Why?
[PLOT DEVIATION: HOST'S TRANSMIGRATION HAS ALTERED FATE. PROTAGONISTS ADAPT. THEY GROW FASTER. THEY SEEK REVENGE MORE EAGERLY.]
Interesting. So the moment I arrived, the game changed.
Good. I hate static opponents.
"System. Explain emotion collection."
[EMOTION COLLECTION PROTOCOL: ACTIVE]
[POINTS GENERATED BASED ON INTENSITY OF EMOTION CAUSED BY HOST IN OTHERS]
[ALL EMOTIONS QUALIFY — POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE]
[RANGE: 0-10,000+ POINTS DEPENDING ON INTENSITY]
[CURRENT POINTS: 0]
"And points are used for?"
[LUCKY DRAW — 5 TIERS]
[TIER 1: 1,000 POINTS — RANDOM DRAW]
[TIER 2: 5,000 POINTS — RANDOM DRAW]
[TIER 3: 20,000 POINTS — RANDOM DRAW]
[TIER 4: 50,000 POINTS — RANDOM DRAW]
[TIER 5: 200,000 POINTS — RANDOM DRAW]
[DRAWS CAN YIELD: SUMMONS, ITEMS, SKILLS, CULTIVATION BOOSTS, TEMPORARY BUFFS, INFORMATION]
[SUMMONED CHARACTERS: 100% LOYAL TO MASTER, INDEPENDENT PERSONALITIES, CAN DIE, CAN GROW, CAN JOIN HAREM]
Arjun noted the terminology. Master. Good.
"System. What are the odds of getting something useful?"
[RANDOM. BUT SYSTEM OPTIMIZES FOR HOST'S SURVIVAL. HIGHER NEED = HIGHER CHANCE OF RELEVANT REWARD.]
So it's rigged in my favor. Even better.
He stood, walked to the window, pulled back the curtains. The city of Valdris sprawled before him—towers of glass and steel, ancient stone structures, flying vehicles zipping between buildings. In the distance, mountains rose, and on their peaks, cultivation sects where warriors trained for decades.
Two years. Three months. Eighteen days.
Rohan Desai will come for me. He'll be an Energy Master. He'll have fortune on his side—protagonist luck, opportunities falling into his lap.
But he doesn't know I'm here. He doesn't know I have a system. He doesn't know I've already started planning.
Arjun's smile returned—cold, calculating.
Let's see how far protagonist luck gets you against a strategist with two years of prep time.
---
A knock at the door.
"Dad?"
Tara. Sixteen. The eldest.
"Come in."
The door opened. A young woman stood there—dark hair pulled back, eyes red-rimmed. She'd been crying recently.
"Dad, the little ones are asking about breakfast. Should I—"
"I'll make it." Arjun's voice was warm—exactly as the memories showed. "Tell them Dad's cooking today."
Tara's eyes widened. "You haven't cooked since Mom—"
"I know. Today's different."
She studied him, head tilted. "You really are different, Dad. I can't explain it. But..." A small smile. "I like it."
She left.
Arjun stood alone for a moment. Then he followed her out.
---
Breakfast was chaos.
Seven girls around a massive table, talking over each other, spilling juice, laughing. Arjun stood at the stove, cooking omelets, watching them.
Tara directing traffic. Leela elbowing Kavya. Kavya ignoring her, nose in a book—Ancient Cultivation Techniques of the Sylvaris Masters. Riya at the piano in the corner, playing softly. Anya bouncing in her chair. Diya quietly bandaging a cut on her finger. Ishani sitting perfectly still, watching Arjun with eyes that missed nothing.
These are my daughters now.
He brought the first plate to the table. Anya grabbed it immediately.
"Thanks, Dad! You should cook more often!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Tara said automatically.
Leela snorted. "Mom's ghost is possessing you, Tara."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
"Girls." Arjun's voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise. Seven faces turned to him.
He looked at them—really looked. Tara exhausted from carrying too much weight. Leela angry at the world. Kavya hiding in books. Riya playing pain away on piano. Anya too bright, compensating. Diya too gentle. Ishani watching.
"I'm sorry," Arjun said.
Seven confused faces.
"For what, Dad?" Tara asked.
"For not being here. The last three years. I've been absent. Grieving. Leaving you to handle things." He looked at Tara. "You especially. You're sixteen. You should be worrying about school, not running a household."
Tara's eyes glistened.
Leela crossed her arms. "So what, you're suddenly Dad of the Year now?"
"No." Arjun met her glare. "I'm saying I'll do better. Starting today. And I'm saying—" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I'm saying I need your help. All of you."
Leela's expression flickered. "Help with what?"
"Our family. Our future. There are people who want to hurt us. People from your father's past." He used "your father" deliberately—separating himself slightly, but the girls didn't notice. "I'm going to protect us. But I can't do it alone."
Silence.
Then Leela spoke—quiet, for once. "The Desai family. The ones you—" She stopped.
She knows. The original Arjan told her. Or she figured it out.
"Yes." No denial. No excuse. "Their son is alive. He's training. He'll come for revenge."
Leela's eyes hardened. "Then we fight."
"Leela—"
"No, Dad. You said you need our help. I'm helping. I've been training—illegally, underground fighting rings. I'm good. I can fight."
Arjun hid his surprise. She just admitted something that could get her in serious trouble. To protect the family.
"Leela, you're fifteen."
"And I'm the second oldest. Tara handles the house. I'll handle the fighting. That's fair."
Tara started to protest, but Arjun raised a hand.
"Leela. Show me your hands."
She held them out. Bruised knuckles. Callused palms. The hands of someone who trained daily.
Arjun examined them, then nodded. "Tomorrow, you start proper training. No more underground rings. I'll find you a real instructor."
Leela's eyes widened. "You're not angry?"
"I'm practical. You have talent. We'll use it."
Kavya closed her book. "Dad. I've been reading about cultivation. Ancient techniques. Modern theories. I understand the theory, even if I can't practice."
"Good. You're our researcher. Find me everything on Sylvaris sects. Especially Azure Peak."
Riya looked up from the piano. "Dad, I can—I can compose. Music affects emotions. If we need to distract people, or calm them, or—"
"Brilliant. You're our psychological warfare specialist."
Anya bounced. "Dad! Dad! I can run fast! And climb! And—"
"You're our scout. When you're older."
Diya spoke softly. "I can heal. Animals, I mean. I've been practicing. Maybe people too, someday."
"Then you're our medic in training."
All eyes turned to Ishani. The youngest sat perfectly still, watching Arjun with those too-old eyes.
"I know when people lie," she said quietly. "I always have. Even before Mom died."
Arjun met her gaze. "Can you tell if I'm lying now?"
Ishani studied him for a long moment. Then she shook her head. "You're not lying, Dad. You really mean it. You really will protect us."
"I will."
[EMOTION DETECTED: HOPE, TRUST, LOVE]
[SOURCE: TARA, LEELA, KAVYA, RIYA, ANYA, DIYA, ISHANI]
[INTENSITY: SIGNIFICANT TO PROFOUND]
[POINTS GENERATED: 8,200]
[TOTAL POINTS: 8,200]
Arjun nodded slowly. Eight thousand points. Not bad for one conversation.
But his mind was already calculating. Eight thousand points. Not enough for Tier 3. But enough for Tier 1 and Tier 2 draws.
Information first. Then power.
---
That night, Arjun sat in his study, reviewing files. Varma Industries was solid—profitable, well-managed. But there were problems.
A rival company—Desai Holdings—was aggressively expanding. Run by Vikram Desai, Rohan's uncle. And according to the files, Vikram had been quietly buying Varma Industries stock for months.
He's positioning. Waiting. When Rohan kills me, he takes over.
Clever. Legal. Untraceable.
Arjun leaned back, smiling.
But I know. And knowing is half the battle.
"System. Tier 1 draw. Now."
[TIER 1 DRAW: 1,000 POINTS]
[PROCESSING...]
A flash of light. A small box materialized on his desk.
Arjun opened it.
Inside: a data chip.
[ITEM: INFORMATION CHIP]
[CONTENTS: DETAILED FINANCIAL RECORDS — DESAI HOLDINGS]
[VALUE: HIDDEN TRANSACTIONS, OFFSHORE ACCOUNTS, ILLEGAL DEALINGS]
Arjun's smile widened.
Perfect. With this, I can destroy Vikram Desai without lifting a finger.
But he didn't move immediately. He placed the chip aside.
Not yet. Let him think he's winning. Let him invest more. Let him dig his grave deeper.
Then I'll bury him.
"System. Tier 2 draw."
[TIER 2 DRAW: 5,000 POINTS]
[PROCESSING...]
Another flash. This time, a scroll.
[ITEM: CULTIVATION MANUAL — "SEVEN STARS ENERGY ABSORPTION TECHNIQUE"]
[TIER: ADVANCED INITIATE TO ENERGY ADEPT]
[EFFECT: DOUBLES CULTIVATION SPEED FOR FIRST THREE REALMS]
Arjun examined the scroll. Ancient script, but the system translated automatically.
Cultivation. I need to start immediately.
He unrolled it, began reading.
---
Three hours later, Arjun felt it—a warmth in his chest, a flow of energy where none had existed before.
[CULTIVATION PROGRESS]
[REALM: INITIATE (STAGE 3)]
[TIME TO NEXT REALM: APPROXIMATELY 2 MONTHS (WITH DAILY PRACTICE)]
Two months to reach Energy Adept. Normally, it takes years.
The technique was working.
He stood, stretched, walked to the window. Dawn was breaking over Valdris—golden light spilling across towers and temples.
Two years. Three months. Eighteen days.
Rohan will return as an Energy Master. I'll be... what? Energy Adept? Maybe Energy Master if I push hard enough.
Not enough.
He needed more. More points. More draws. More power.
"System. What generates the most points?"
[EXTREME EMOTIONS. LOVE. FEAR. GRATITUDE. TERROR. WORSHIP.]
[LARGE AUDIENCES. THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE FEELING STRONG EMOTIONS = THOUSANDS OF POINTS.]
Thousands of people.
Arjun looked out at the city—millions of people. Workers waking up, going to jobs. Students heading to academies. Cultivators training.
How do I make thousands of people feel strong emotions?
His strategist mind began working.
Varma Industries. I own companies. I employ thousands. If I improve their lives—better wages, better conditions—they'll feel gratitude.
If I crush competitors publicly, dramatically—observers will feel fear, respect, awe.
If I enter the cultivation world, challenge rising geniuses—audiences will feel excitement, anticipation, shock when I win.
Aeloria has internet. Social media. News networks. One dramatic moment, broadcast to millions—
[EMOTION DETECTED: AMBITION]
[INTENSITY: EXTREME]
[NOTE: SELF-GENERATED — NO POINTS]
Arjun smiled.
I know exactly what to do.
---