The sun had barely risen over the bustling skyline when Dushiant Rajput stood in the mirror of a modest apartment rented under a false name. His face, though still his, now bore a faint scar near the chin—a precise cosmetic touch to match Parth Bhardwaj, the real candidate he had kidnapped a day before. Parth, sedated and secured far from the city, wouldn't be found for at least a week, if at all. Dushiant had ensured no digital footprint of the abduction remained, even hacking into the local CCTV networks to delete the relevant footage. This was no ordinary infiltration—it was personal.
Clad in a sharply pressed suit and clutching a briefcase filled with forged credentials, Dushiant stepped into the warm morning air. The headquarters of Saksham Industries loomed in the heart of the city—a glass monolith that once represented ambition and partnership, now scarred with secrets and betrayal. As he approached the revolving doors, a flood of memories rushed in. He had built this company with Saksham, brick by brick, only to walk away for reasons known to none but his late friend.
"Here goes," he whispered.
Inside the reception, the lobby hummed with morning energy. Employees rushed past, coffee in hand, murmuring greetings, oblivious to the storm quietly entering among them. The receptionist, a young woman with sharp eyes and a corporate smile, looked up.
"Name?"
"Parth Bhardwaj," Dushiant replied smoothly, sliding over a digital ID and resume.
She typed with practiced speed. "You're here for the HR Manager interview?"
"That's right."
"Take the elevator to the 19th floor. Conference Room B."
Dushiant thanked her and turned. As he stepped into the elevator, a group of new hires joined him, chattering nervously about the selection rounds. He remained quiet, eyes forward, absorbing every detail—the layout of the building, the security protocols, the access card system.
The 19th floor opened into a pristine corridor lined with art installations and modern furnishing. Conference Room B was already half-full with other candidates, all sharply dressed and visibly tense. Dushiant took a seat in the corner, calm and collected. Unlike the others, he had not come to compete; he had come to dominate.
Soon, a middle-aged man with a trimmed mustache and graying temples entered the room.
"Good morning. I'm Mr. Bhattacharya, Head of Corporate Recruitment. We'll begin with a written aptitude test. You have 45 minutes. Your scores will determine whether you proceed to the next round."
Sheets were distributed. Dushiant scanned the questions—corporate scenarios, ethical dilemmas, logistical challenges. Child's play. He answered confidently, ensuring to insert just the right amount of critical thinking and corporate jargon to impress.
Once the test concluded, the candidates were ushered into an adjoining room where refreshments were served. Nervous chatter filled the air.
"Hey, you're Parth, right?" a young man asked, extending a hand.
"Yes," Dushiant replied, shaking it.
"I'm Arjun. You seemed calm during the test. First time applying here?"
"Something like that," he said with a polite smile.
Moments later, Bhattacharya returned, his face expressionless. "Following candidates, please follow me: Parth Bhardwaj, Sanjay Tiwari, Mitali Deshmukh."
As they walked to another wing of the building, Dushiant took mental notes of every hallway, every face, every camera.
The second round was a panel interview. Seated across a long table were three senior executives—Ranjan Malhotra, one of the directors; Suman Prasad, Head of Finance; and Ravi Tripathi, the current HR Manager. Ravi was unmistakably the weak link—his bored eyes scanned each resume without real interest.
Dushiant greeted them with confident poise.
"Tell us about yourself, Parth," Ranjan began.
He leaned forward slightly. "I come from a background of strategic human capital development. My last tenure involved streamlining internal processes and improving employee satisfaction by 38% in two years. I believe in results over rhetoric."
Ravi smirked. "So you're a numbers guy?"
"I'm a balance guy," Dushiant responded without hesitation. "Numbers don't lie, but they don't breathe either. People do."
Suman raised an eyebrow. "What would you do if you discovered unethical behavior within the company?"
"I'd document, investigate, and escalate. But more importantly, I'd ensure the system that allowed it to exist in the first place is dismantled."
There was a brief silence. Even Ranjan looked mildly impressed.
Ravi, however, wasn't done. "You seem quite confident, Parth. Almost too confident. Ever been in trouble before?"
"Only when I've stood up for what's right," Dushiant replied, locking eyes with him. There was something in his tone—a quiet warning. Ravi looked away first.
The panel concluded with polite nods. As Dushiant left the room, he could sense it. Ranjan was intrigued. Ravi was suspicious. And that's exactly what he wanted.
Back in the waiting lounge, he sat alone, reflecting on the undercurrents. This wasn't just an interview. This was entry into enemy territory. And he was one step closer.
An hour later, Bhattacharya approached him again.
"Parth, congratulations. You've been shortlisted for final review. Please report tomorrow morning for orientation and onboarding."
Dushiant stood and extended a hand. "Thank you. I won't disappoint."
As he exited the building, the sun had begun its descent. The city buzzed around him, unaware that one of its largest corporations had just welcomed a ghost into its halls.
Back at the apartment, Dushiant removed the scar prosthetic and sat by the window, sipping tea. On the desk beside him lay a dossier labeled "Operation Phoenix."
Day one was complete.
Tomorrow, the real infiltration would begin.