Maruvarthai🤍

II

The sterile walls of the police headquarters echoed with the harsh reprimands of Inspector General (IG) Rao as he loomed over the duo of officers. Prabhas stood with his arms crossed, a defiant smirk playing at the corners of his lips, while Rana maintained an air of stoic composure, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the IG's furious visage.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" IG Rao thundered, his voice booming off the walls like thunder in a storm. "You turned a simple operation into a circus! We're here to uphold the law, not to entertain the public with your reckless antics!"

Prabhas, ever the charm of chaos, shrugged. "Come on, sir! We got the suspects, didn't we? A little excitement never hurt anyone. Besides, look at how we cleared the club! It was hardly a day at the beach!"

"Not a day at the beach?" IG Rao's face turned crimson. "You sent a hundred people running for their lives! This isn't a game, Prabhas!"

Rana leaned against the wall, trying to mask his suppressed grin with a stern look, but the way his friend was able to translate the chaos into comedic relief was hard to stifle. "Sir, it was a little unconventional, but sometimes a show of force is needed to send a message," he added, his tone calm, in a futile attempt to steer the conversation away from further disaster.

"Unconventional?!" the IG interjected, throwing his hands up in disbelief. "The last time I checked, we were not tasked with creating a scene worthy of a Bollywood movie! You are lucky not to have been reported to the media! The commissioner is not going to take this lightly."

"Did you see the look on their faces when I dropped that guy with the baseball bat?" Prabhas interjected, a sparkle in his eye indicating he was still reveling in the excitement of the night's events. "Or how that one dude tripped over his own feet? Comedy gold, I tell you!"

Rana shot his friend a warning glance. "Prabhas, can we save the laughing for later? Some of us have to think about reputations and promotions."

"I'm not worried about promotions!" Prabhas scoffed. "The only badge I care about is catching the bad guys."

"That's commendable, but we have to play by the rules," Rana tried again, his voice hesitant but firm. "Otherwise, we undermine everything we stand for. And speaking of which..." He turned to the IG, "It was my decision to take a more aggressive approach. I didn't consult Prabhas."

"What?" Prabhas exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Rana, you can't do that! I'm the one who threw the punches!"

"Yes, and those punches caused chaos!" the IG snapped, finally redirecting his ire toward Rana. "You both are going to write a report outlining exactly what happened, and I'll make sure this doesn't go further up the chain—only if it doesn't happen again, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Rana replied, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of resignation. Prabhas, however, continued to fume, casting daggers at his friend.

As they walked out of the office, Prabhas couldn't hold back any longer. "Why did you take the blame for me, you idiot?" he demanded, frustration seeping from every pore. "I could handle it. You know I always do! I don't need your martyr act!"

Rana chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "You think I'm being a martyr? I'm just trying to keep you from getting fired, you hothead. If you hadn't run in there like a bull at a gate—"

"Hey! That bull is what makes us a good team!" Prabhas retorted, crossing his arms indignantly. "You can't just clean up my mess forever, Rana. I'm not some little kid needing protection."

Rana stopped, turning to face Prabhas squarely. The humor faded from his features, replaced by a serious look that demanded attention. "It's not that simple, Prabhas. If I let you fall flat on your face this time, it could have serious repercussions for us both. But more importantly, I'm trying to keep you safe. Your reckless behavior—"