SHO's Air-Conditioned Office.
Rahul was sitting in the exact same spot on the faux-leather sofa as yesterday, but the girl sitting beside him had changed from Samina to Anjali.
And unlike yesterday, when the overweight SHO had comfortably occupied his leather chair while dismissing Rahul, today the SHO was standing at strict attention. He hovered in front of Rahul with a massive, fawning smile plastered on his sweaty face.
This 180-degree shift in reality was entirely thanks to Anjali.
"Mr. Rahul, Miss Barua."
"We have escalated this theft case to the absolute highest priority. Half the police force in Dhaka is currently combing the streets to find these culprits!"
"Please, place your full faith in our department!"
At that moment, the office door creaked open. The bearded inspector, sporting a bright red, swollen cheek from his recent slap, walked in carefully holding two cups of premium coffee. He placed them on the table with a submissive, pleading smile and quickly backed out of the room.
He knew perfectly well that in this room, he didn't even have the right to breathe too loudly, let alone speak.
"Alright, you have exactly two hours. If it's not found by then, I'll just call my dad back and have him send military police to do your job!"
"Rahul's wallet must be recovered today!"
Anjali had completely shed her shy, gentle demeanor. What replaced it wasn't arrogance, but an absolute, unyielding authority. The SHO didn't dare put on a single ounce of his usual bureaucratic attitude. He just nodded frantically, bowing respectfully.
A second later, the fierce glint in Anjali's eyes vanished. When she turned her head to look at Rahul, her expression instantly melted back into that of a sweet, modest girl-next-door.
"Rahul, does this arrangement work for you?"
What else could Rahul possibly say?
With a single sentence from her, the most powerful cop in the district was practically trembling and bowing. He had promised to recover the wallet in two hours—a miracle by any standard. Rahul just smiled helplessly and nodded.
At the same time, he secretly wondered if his new 'Succubus Attribute' had literally thrown him straight into the highest echelons of South Asian royalty.
The SHO had promised two hours, but in reality, it didn't even take thirty minutes.
The office door opened, and the two pickpockets were dragged in by the scruff of their necks by a squad of constables.
The moment the two scrawny guys recognized Rahul sitting on the sofa, a look of sheer bewilderment crossed their faces.
When half the Dhaka police force had suddenly swarmed their slum hideout to violently arrest them, they had thought they were being framed for terrorism or a massive bank heist. On the ride over, they were literally praying for their lives, terrified they'd never see the light of day again.
They never in a million years expected that this massive, city-wide manhunt was just over a stolen wallet!
Realizing it was "just" a pickpocketing charge, the two thieves let out massive sighs of relief. Their posture immediately relaxed, and they even started to swagger slightly, shaking their heads and shooting Rahul looks of mocking disdain.
Seeing their obnoxious, unrepentant attitude, Anjali's eyes narrowed. She turned her head toward the SHO.
"I don't like how they're looking at him."
The fawning smile on the SHO's face instantly vanished. He turned and roared at the constables:
"These scumbags haven't realized the gravity of their crime! Take them to the back rooms for a proper 'education'!"
Anjali's face hardened. "No need. Do it right here."
Without a second's hesitation, the heavily built SHO personally stepped forward. SMACK! SMACK! He delivered two brutal, bone-rattling backhands straight across the thieves' faces. The sheer force of the blows split their lips, sending blood spilling down their chins.
Only then did these two foolish pickpockets realize the absolute terrifying magnitude of the people they had messed with. Their knees buckled, and they collapsed onto the floor.
A constable stepped forward and handed Rahul's brown leather wallet to the SHO, who respectfully presented it to Rahul.
Rahul opened it. It was completely empty. Not just the cash—his debit cards, his PAN card, and his Aadhaar card were entirely gone.
Rahul's face darkened instantly.
"SHO sir, when we apprehended them, they had already spent all the cash," the constable reported nervously. "And they claimed they threw the bank cards and foreign IDs into a public garbage dump."
Hearing this, Rahul looked up sharply. "Can my IDs be recovered?"
The constable shook his head. "It's a massive landfill, sir. It's basically impossible."
A surge of pure frustration and anger boiled over in Rahul's chest. He glared at the two thieves groveling on the floor. It was one thing to steal the cash—he could make that back. But throwing away his official government IDs and bank cards in a foreign country?! That was a logistical nightmare!
These guys had absolutely zero 'honor among thieves'.
Just then, Anjali stepped up and gently held Rahul's arm.
"Rahul, if you need to vent your anger... I can have the officers step outside for a few minutes."
Hearing her quiet permission, Rahul didn't say a single word. He stepped forward and delivered a heavy, furious kick right into the chest of the first thief. Before the guy could even scream, Rahul spun and kicked the second thief squarely in the stomach, sending him crashing to the floor.
The constables in the room, and even the SHO himself, immediately found the peeling paint on the ceiling and their own fingernails incredibly fascinating. They all discreetly turned their heads away.
Rahul's pent-up frustration from the last 48 hours completely unleashed. He rained down punches and kicks on the two thieves cowering on the tiles.
The two pickpockets immediately started howling in agony.
"Police brutality! He's assaulting us right in front of you!" one of them shrieked. "Why aren't you doing anything?!"
But the police officers acted deaf and blind. Some hummed quietly; others inspected their shoes. They completely ignored Rahul's violent outburst.
It wasn't until Rahul was out of breath and his anger finally subsided that he backed off.
The two thieves were huddled in the corner, clutching their stomachs and trembling violently. Even through the pain, they fully realized that this ridiculously handsome tourist had backing so powerful it was terrifying.
"Rahul, come here. You're sweating."
Anjali pulled a tissue from the desk, stood on her tiptoes, and gently dabbed the sweat from his forehead.
Catching his breath, Rahul suddenly felt a ping of self-consciousness. He had totally lost his temper. Had he been too violent in front of her?
But when he looked down and saw Anjali's completely calm, supportive expression, he let out a breath of relief.
South Asia has its own set of unwritten rules, Rahul reminded himself. I'm just adapting to the local culture.
"Do you feel better now, Rahul?" Anjali asked considerately.
After Rahul gave a tired but affirmative nod, Anjali turned her sharp gaze back to the SHO.
"These two criminals stole my boyfriend's cash and highly sensitive foreign documents. It was a particularly large sum."
"Rahul, exactly how much cash was in your wallet again?"
Hearing her casually drop the 'boyfriend' label, Rahul's eyebrow twitched. When exactly did I agree to that promotion? he thought wryly.
But he played along smoothly. "Around 170,000 Taka."
"Exactly. 170,000 Taka. That is well over the threshold for a major grand theft charge," Anjali said coldly. "SHO sir, I expect you to push for the absolute maximum sentence."
The SHO immediately puffed out his chest. "Rest assured, Miss Barua! Because this involves an esteemed international guest, our department will pursue this with the utmost severity!"
"And speed!" The SHO snapped his fingers at the constables. "Drag them to the holding cells! Process their paperwork immediately and get them in front of a magistrate by this afternoon! Tell the prosecutor we want the maximum penalty!"
Anjali turned back to Rahul, her voice softening. "Rahul, are you satisfied with this?"
Rahul nodded with a resigned sigh. "Yeah, it's fine. The money and IDs are gone anyway, throwing them in jail is the best we can do."
Just as the constables hauled the groaning thieves out of the office, the SHO scurried over to his desk, pulled open a drawer, and brought out a thick stack of Taka notes.
He held them out to Rahul with an obsequious bow.
"Mr. Rahul, please accept this cash as... compensation from our department for your troubles."
As a middle-class Indian who understood the intricate dance of societal leverage and favors, Rahul knew better than to take the money. The SHO had already bent over backward and broken protocol to give him face; taking a bribe on top of it would be pushing his luck and creating a messy obligation.
He firmly but politely pushed the stack of cash back.
"That won't be necessary, officer. I appreciate the hard work of your men."
Seeing Rahul reject the bribe so effortlessly, a deep flicker of approval and admiration flashed in Anjali's eyes.
Since his first attempt to curry favor failed, the SHO immediately pivoted to Plan B.
"Then, Mr. Rahul, how about this? I will call the local news reporters right now! We can put you on TV, announcing the swift recovery of justice!"
"We will broadcast your face so every street thug in Dhaka knows you are a highly protected VIP! It will completely stop anyone from ever bothering you again! What do you say?"
Hearing this completely absurd proposal, Rahul immediately raised his hands in refusal. He had absolutely zero intention of becoming a mainstream news "star" in Bangladesh; he just wanted to film his YouTube vlogs in peace!