RED DAY ORIGINAL

The weapon industry is one of the biggest industries in the world. It produces military equipment and advanced technologies, making billions every year. Countries like the U.S., Russia, and China are the top exporters, while nations in the Middle East and Asia, like India, are some of the biggest buyers. Companies like Deshmukh Weaponiser and Tank Roster lead this massive industry, driving new innovations in areas like aerospace, cybersecurity, and AI. However, the industry faces criticism for its role in spreading weapons and fueling conflicts.

Deshmukh Weaponiser focuses its export business mainly on the U.S., with less emphasis on India. Since India needs more weapons for its own defense, trading out of the country isn't an option. To grow their reach, Deshmukh Weaponiser expanded its industries in the U.S. and, to a smaller extent, in Russia.

The company was founded by Satyendra Deshmukh, often called the "Father of Weaponisers." He entered the field in the 1990s and became a respected leader in his time.

After Satyendra fell to cancer, his son, Anant Deshmukh, took over the business. A graduate of Harvard University, Anant brought new ideas and energy to the company. He faced challenges when the business hit tough times, but he worked hard to steady things and even expanded into other sectors.

However, there was one area where Deshmukh Weaponiser struggled—the software industry. Despite several attempts, Anant couldn't break into this field, which was the future of technology and could push the company to new heights.

Finally, after years of effort, Anant secured a big deal in the U.S. to invest heavily in the software industry. He was determined to take the Deshmukh empire into this new field and ensure its place in the future.

The future successor of the Deshmukh empire was Anant's son, Manik Deshmukh. A bright student from IIT Bombay, Manik was pursuing his B.Tech in Computer Science. He wasn't a fan of attending classes, believing more in being attentive to life than to lectures.

But Manik wasn't the only one in line for the empire. Anant's stepbrother's sons were strong rivals for him.

Manik didn't share a good relationship with them, but his father, Anant, thought highly of them. Anant admired their hard work and dedication. After Anant's stepbrother passed away in an accident, he took responsibility for his nephews. He gave them everything—good education, culture, and a supportive environment. Eventually, he even entrusted them with handling the major business regions of North India.

The elder nephew, with his excellent management skills, expanded the business significantly in the North. Under his leadership, the Deshmukh empire built its largest manufacturing unit for Weaponiser, strengthening its position in the market.

"Where's my tie, Hema? I'm already getting late," said a man as he hurriedly got dressed.

"Oh, my dear husband, sometimes I wonder how you plan to handle a business when you can't even find a tie," replied Hema, walking into the room with the tie in her hand.

"How am I supposed to find it when it's already in your hand, Hema?" the man said, shaking his head.

"Oops, sorry, Mr. Robin Deshmukh. I stole it from your cupboard on my way in," Hema said with a playful smile.

"Oh, Hema, you're adorable. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to impress your father. It's not easy to win over an Army General. But the best part was, I managed to impress you too," Robin said, gently holding Hema's face in his hands.

"So, tell me, my dear husband, which was tougher—impressing me or my father?" Hema asked with a teasing grin.

"Hmm, that's a tough question," Robin replied, thinking for a moment. "But let me tell you, impressing you was the best decision I ever made. It doesn't matter how hard it was. And as for your father, yeah, it was tough, but I'd do anything for you, my love," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Okay, okay! Now, I think you should hurry to the office before you're too late. By the way, you mentioned a meeting. What's it about?" Hema asked, going back to her work.

"Oh, the meeting is with Chinese exporters this Sunday. If the deal goes through, we'll become the biggest sugarcane exporters in Asia," Robin explained confidently.

"That's wonderful! But where's Ricky? He wasn't home last night," Hema asked, her tone suddenly serious.

The roar of engines filled the Long Beach Stadium in California, the air electric with excitement as the annual IndyCar final reached its thrilling climax. The crowd sat on the edge of their seats, eyes fixed on the racing track as the commentator's voice boomed across the speakers.

"Welcome to the IndyCar, ladies and gentlemen! Hold your breath because car number 351 is almost at the finish line... But wait, what's this? Car number 65 is speeding up! Unbelievable! Car 65 has just taken second place in under a minute, and—oh my god—it's chasing the leader! Could it be? Yes! Yes, it is! Car number 65 has taken the lead!" The commentator's voice grew more animated with every word. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner—car number 65!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as the checkered flag waved. Car number 65 had crossed the finish line first. The stadium was packed, the noise deafening. For the first time in years, the stands were alive with energy, and everyone knew why—an Indian racer had not only participated but had triumphed in this iconic race.

The president of the United States himself took to the stage, his voice calm yet filled with admiration. "After such a long time, I've seen this stadium so full of life. And I know this is because of one special racer. Today, we're here to celebrate an extraordinary moment. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome car number 65, Mr. Ritik Deshmukh—the IndyCar champion!"

As Ritik stepped out of his car, helmet in hand, the cheers grew louder. Walking to the stage, his face shone with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He reached the microphone, his voice slightly unsteady as he began to speak.

"I can't believe I'm here," Ritik said, his breath still heavy from the intense race. "This is... this is amazing. It's hard to find the words to express how I feel right now. I just want to thank all of you—my fans, my supporters—for your love and encouragement. You've given me so much, and I... I don't even know how to put it into words."

The crowd roared once again, their voices echoing in celebration of the new champion. Ritik Deshmukh, an Indian racer, had made history that day, bringing pride to his country and joy to racing fans worldwide.

The day was coming to an end as the flight from the US to India prepared to land. The airport was packed with excited fans waiting eagerly for Ritik's arrival.

As soon as he stepped out, the crowd erupted with cheers.

"RITIK sir! RITIK sir!

Sir, one picture, please!

Sir, over here!"

The voices of his fans filled the air as they surged forward, desperate for his attention. With the help of police guards, Ritik made his way through the throng and finally reached his car.

"Come in... Come on, sit here. Be comfortable, Ritik. Relax," said a girl already seated in the car. Her tone was calm and welcoming. "Do you want some water?"

Ritik smiled and pulled her into a warm hug. "Hey, sweetie, I need a beautiful kiss and lots of hugs first. Water can wait," he said, kissing her cheek.

The girl, Kritika, pushed him back lightly, though her smile gave away her affection. "Okay, okay! Relax, Ritik. Calm down. First, you need to inform your brother about all this. I've been handling their questions for a month now, but they keep calling me to ask where you are. It's driving me crazy!"

She crossed her arms, frustration evident in her voice. "What do you want me to say? That you've been away for a racing championship again? They aren't buying it anymore."

Ritik sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he started the car. "Kritika, stop it. I'm the one flying across countries and competing in back-to-back races. It's exhausting for me, too. You were just doing your job. This is something we're supposed to handle together, isn't it?"

Kritika rolled her eyes but softened a little. "Fine, you win. You've won the tournament, Ritik, and now it's time to tell them the truth."

"Of course, sweetheart," Ritik said with a smirk. "Today, I'll show them what I've achieved. I'm sure Big Bro will regret every time he tried to stop me from chasing this dream."

But Kritika's expression grew serious. "It's not just about the race, Ritik. You also need to tell them about us—our relationship."

Ritik's confident grin faltered. "What? I mean... why now? I told you we'd tell them."

Kritika cut him off. "When you achieved your dream. That's what you said. And this race was your dream, wasn't it?"

Ritik hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine, we'll see about it. Okay?"

Without waiting for her reply, he pressed the accelerator, speeding toward home.