Chapter 1: The Coin and the City
I am a street magician.
A billionaire handed me a unique, exquisite coin.
"Ten minutes from now," he said, "I’ll start a livestream and announce to everyone that I’ve given you this coin."
"Whoever holds the coin will inherit my entire estate—about five thousand crore rupees. But I’ll only make my will official after seven days."
I understood, took the coin, and ran.
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1
The coin pressed against my thigh as I walked, weighed down by Mumbai’s humid air, thick with the smell of frying vada pav. A stray dog nosed through paan-stained wrappers near my feet as I pocketed the coin. Every step made my heart thump louder—seven days, five thousand crore rupees. It all sounded like a fantasy, too good to be true.
But very soon, I realised nothing would be simple. This billionaire’s influence was everywhere—whenever he started a livestream, lakhs of people tuned in instantly. Within minutes, the news of the coin spread across the city.
He hadn’t mentioned my name or my face—just that I was a magician performing at a certain time and place. But soon enough, someone posted photos in the comments.
"Isn’t this the magician at the south intersection of Laxmi Avenue?" someone wrote, uploading a candid shot from noon. "His performance was so lame, LOL, kya chance mila isko!"
Then another video: "My family’s kirana shop is nearby—here’s our CCTV footage. He walked north along Laxmi Avenue."
Within minutes, my photo was everywhere—WhatsApp groups, Insta stories, even forwarded to my old school alumni chat. I was stunned.
I actually knew both of them. The one who posted the photo was a college girl who’d been coming to my shows lately. She never tipped, but always praised my performances. The kirana store owner was a middle-aged uncle I bought cigarettes from, who’d once told me he envied my carefree life.
Why would they out me like this? Wasn’t it just harming others for no gain to themselves? But I quickly realised—this was only natural. Five thousand crore rupees—enough to make anyone’s eyes go green with envy.
Some people know they’re not cut out for risks, or simply don’t dare. They won’t try for the coin themselves, but they can’t bear to see someone else get rich so easily.
This city was about to erupt in chaos.
No wonder, when the billionaire gave me the coin, he said with a knowing smile: "Good luck."
As I replayed his words, a chill ran through me. In our country, money isn’t just a number—it’s family security, marriage prospects, even your standing in the mohalla. If someone like me, barely scraping by, could suddenly inherit such a fortune, why wouldn’t people want to see the drama? In India, a neighbour’s lottery win is headline news for a week. Here, I was the news.