Then, abruptly cutting his own threat short, he turned to Kajal. "Where is the Tehsildar's office?" he asked, his voice now calm and focused.
Kajal, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe, pointed in the direction. "It's nearby," she stammered, "just beyond the edge of the bazaar."
"Stay here," Varun instructed, his voice firm. "Be on guard. I'll be back."
With that, he leaped, a sudden burst of impossible power, soaring ten feet into the air.
Before anyone could react, he landed in a fluid motion and vanished into the dense forest bordering the town. He was gone, a phantom disappearing into the green depths.
He ran with a purpose, his enhanced speed propelling him through the trees like a shadow.
He knew that killing the Tehsildar outright would attract unwanted attention, alerting the higher authorities. He needed to make it look like an accident, an untimely death.
An idea formed in his mind. He would use the dense forest, the natural hazards of the Sundarbans, to his advantage.
He would create a scenario, a staged accident, that would leave no trace of his involvement.
Back in the bazaar, the crowd remained in a daze.
They stared at the spot where Varun had vanished, then at the broken, bleeding form of the miya.
A few villagers, their faces lit with a strange, almost manic joy, celebrated the miya's downfall, the end of his reign of terror.
But others, their faces etched with worry, whispered about the Tehsildar, about the retribution that was sure to follow.
"What will happen now?" a woman asked, her voice trembling.
"His uncle will come," a man replied, his voice heavy with dread. "He will make us pay.
Barely a minute had passed since Varun's departure when a sorrowful, drawn-out howl echoed through the bazaar.
It was the sound of a tiger, a mournful cry that seemed to plead for its very life. Then, an impossible sight unfolded before their eyes.
A flying tiger.
The massive beast, its striped coat rippling in the air, was being carried aloft. But upon closer inspection, a figure could be seen, a man lifting the tiger with impossible ease, his shoulders bearing the weight of the half-ton predator.
He leaped from the edge of the forest, his trajectory aimed directly towards the Tehsildar's office.
As he soared through the air, his voice, amplified by some unseen force, boomed across the bazaar. "None shall come near the Tehsildar's office!"
The crowd, already reeling from the brutal takedown of the miya, was thrown into a state of utter bewilderment.
They stared, their mouths agape, their minds struggling to process what they were witnessing.
A man, lifting a tiger, a creature of immense size and power, and leaping through the air as if it were nothing. Were they dreaming? Had they succumbed to some collective hallucination?
Chaukidaar and Kajal, despite having witnessed Varun's extraordinary strength, were equally stunned.
They knew he was powerful, but this… this defied all logic and reason. Who in the world possessed such impossible strength, such unbelievable prowess?
They watched, along with the rest of the bazaar, as Varun, carrying the struggling tiger, vanished behind the walls of the Tehsildar's compound,
leaving behind a silence thick with disbelief and a lingering sense of unreality.
The silence that followed Varun's disappearance was thick with anticipation.
Then, it was broken by an old, trembling voice, shouting in a panic. "What the hell is this? A tiger here, in the compound? Aah, help me... aah..."
The cries, filled with terror and disbelief, echoed across the bazaar. The villagers, their faces pale, exchanged worried glances.
They knew that voice; it was the Tehsildar's. The man who had held sway over their lives, the man whose power had been used to shield his nephew's cruelty, was now facing a terror of his own.
The Tehsildar's cries continued for a minute, a desperate plea for help that gradually faded into a strained, gurgling silence.
The sudden quiet was more unsettling than the screams, a chilling testament to what had transpired within the compound walls.
The crowd remained frozen, their minds struggling to comprehend the events unfolding before them.
They had witnessed the impossible, the unbelievable.
A man who could lift a tiger, a creature of immense power, and now, the silence that followed the Tehsildar's screams.
A silence that spoke of finality.
The unsettling silence was abruptly broken.
A massive Bengal tiger, its coat stained crimson, leaped out of the Tehsildar's compound.
It moved with a frantic, desperate energy, as if fleeing for its very life. Its eyes, though animalistic, held a disturbing, almost human fear.
Behind the fleeing tiger, a figure emerged from the compound's gates.
It was Varun, his expression calm, his gaze fixed on the retreating beast.
The tiger, sensing his presence, glanced back, its eyes meeting Varun's.
The animal's gaze, though wild and primal, reflected a chilling, almost soul-deep terror.
A shudder seemed to ripple through the tiger's massive frame.
It let out a low, guttural growl, a sound that spoke of pure, unadulterated fear. Then, with a desperate burst of speed, it vanished into the dense jungle, its blood-soaked form swallowed by the green shadows.
The villagers, their faces pale, watched the scene unfold in stunned silence. They had seen the impossible, a man who commanded fear even in the heart of a predator.
The tiger, a creature of primal power, had fled before him, its instinct for survival overriding its natural aggression.
The silence, now heavy with the weight of what they had witnessed, was broken only by the distant rustling of the jungle.
The heavy silence was shattered by the rhythmic sound of Varun's footsteps as he walked towards the gathered crowd.
He approached Kajal and the chaukidaar, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the villagers. Then, his voice, deep and commanding, resonated through the bazaar.