Chapter 196: Fight in petrol pump
The commotion near the fuel pumps grew louder.
Rohit’s attention drifted toward the source as he leaned forward to his car’s window.
An elderly man stood beside an aging scooter, clutching the fuel receipt in one trembling hand.
His clothes were simple but clean. Nothing about him suggested poverty. Just another middle-class man trying to get through his day.
"I saw it with my own eyes!" the old man shouted.
"The meter wasn’t reset!"
Several customers had already stopped to watch.
One attendant rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Here we go again."
"You people think every machine is cheating you."
The old man jabbed a finger toward the dispenser.
"Young man, the meter wasn’t reset."
The attendant sighed dramatically.
"Sir, please. We’ve been doing this all day."
"I saw it clearly."
A few nearby customers glanced over.
The attendant looked toward his colleague and laughed.
"Every week there’s one uncle who thinks the machine is cheating him."
The old man’s face reddened.
"I’m not confused. The reading was already running."
The supervisor arrived.
"What happened?"
"Same thing," the attendant replied. "Uncle thinks he’s an engineer."
A few chuckles followed.
The supervisor gave the old man a practiced smile.
"Sir, these machines are calibrated. If there was a problem, the system would show it."
"Then let me record it."
The old man pulled out his phone.
"I’ll send it to the consumer helpline."
The supervisor’s expression immediately changed.
"Sir, no recording inside the fueling area."
"Why? If everything is correct then what’s the problem?"
The old man raised his phone toward the dispenser.
One attendant stepped forward.
"Put the phone down."
"Don’t touch me."
The attendant reached for the device anyway.
The old man pulled back instinctively.
In the brief struggle, the attendant’s spectacles flew off and shattered on the concrete.
Silence.
Everyone froze.
The attendant stared at the broken glasses.
Then his face twisted.
"He hit me!"
"What?"
The old man blinked in shock.
"You all saw what happened—"
The attendant grabbed his shirt.
"He assaulted me!"
The supervisor immediately sided with his employee.
"So now you’re attacking staff?"
"I never touched him!"
"Call security."
The crowd began murmuring.
Some had seen the truth.
Others had only caught the end.
That uncertainty was enough.
The attendant shoved the old man.The old man stumbled backward, striking his forehead against the edge of the fuel dispenser. A thin stream of blood immediately trickled down his face.
Another worker grabbed him from behind, locking his arms and forcing him back.
A third stepped forward and slapped him across the face.
"You dare hit our man?" he snarled. "Now you’ll be taught a lesson until the police arrive."
Suddenly the situation was no longer about a fuel meter.
It was three younger men surrounding a seventy-year-old man while everyone else hesitated, unsure who had started what.
And that was exactly the moment Kuldeep’s expression darkened.
His instincts screamed at him to intervene.
But mission came first.
Several customers had already decided to leave, unwilling to get involved. While few others stepped out of their vehicles with their phones raised, recording the growing commotion from a safe distance.
Kuldeep glanced toward the back seat.
"Sir, things are getting out of control. Should we leave?"
Rohit remained silent for a moment, studying the old man’s battered face.
Then recognition struck.
The swollen cheeks and bloodied spectacles made him difficult to identify, but Rohit remembered him.
The old man from the subway.
The one he had helped before.
His eyes turned cold.
"No," he said calmly. "Help him. I’ll handle the consequences."
Kuldeep’s lips curled into a grin.
That was all the permission he needed. He shrugged off his coat along with his gun holster, stepped out of the Bentley, and headed straight for the commotion.
One attendant was in the middle of slapping the old man again when Kuldeep grabbed his wrist.
The man barely had time to react.
Kuldeep’s fist crashed into his face.
The attendant spun sideways and collapsed onto the concrete.
Without pausing, he turned and delivered a brutal front kick to the attendant holding the old man, sending him stumbling several feet backward before crashing onto the concrete.
The attendant who had earlier tried to frame the old man charged in with a wild punch.
Kuldeep sidestepped effortlessly, hooked his leg behind the attacker’s ankle, and swept him off balance.
As the man lost balance and fell backward, Kuldeep stepped in and drove the edge of his hand into the side of his neck.
The attendant crashed onto the concrete with a loud thud, clutching the spot and gasping in pain.
Silence fell over the fuel station.
Everyone froze.
No one had expected a bystander to step into the dispute.
Even the old man stared in shock.
The supervisor’s face twisted with rage.
He had been speaking on the phone moments earlier. Now he pointed directly at Kuldeep.
"You bastard!"
His voice echoed across the station.
"Bring everyone out. Right now. And bring the sticks. We’ve got a thug attacking my staff."
Kuldeep ignored him and helped the old man back to his feet.
"Are you alright, Uncle?"
The old man nodded weakly before grabbing his arm.
"Young man, leave. These people don’t care about cameras. They’ll call the police and turn everything against you."
Kuldeep smiled confidently, flexing his muscle.
"Don’t worry, Uncle. I’ve handled worse."
Then his smile faded.
From the station building and service area, attendants began pouring out one after another.
Some carried batons.
Others held iron rods.
Within moments, nearly fifteen men had gathered behind the supervisor.
The customers who had stayed behind immediately backed away.
Several rushed toward their cars or bikes, fleeing the scene.
The atmosphere changed completely.
Kuldeep swallowed.
"Seriously?" he muttered.
Then he looked at the approaching group and sighed.
"You people really want to do this at a petrol pump?"
Meanwhile, Aisha woke up from the commotion outside.
She nudged Rohit’s shoulder and frowned at the growing disturbance.
"What is this? Why are we always in the middle of trouble?"
Rohit shrugged.
"How would I know? We came to a petrol pump and my bodyguard suddenly wanted to flex his muscles."
Aisha looked at him with complete distrust.
"Or maybe you’re the one who sent him and didn’t expect things to escalate this far."
Rohit didn’t reply. He kept watching the fight unfold.
"Shh," he said. "Don’t distract me. I’m trying to concentrate."
Outside, Kuldeep pushed the old man behind him.
"Move back, Uncle. You’ll only get in the way."
The old man reluctantly retreated several meters but refused to leave entirely.
Kuldeep pulled off his belt and snapped it through the air like a whip.
Crack!
The first attendant charged him.
Kuldeep sidestepped and lashed the belt across the man’s arm.
The attacker cried out and stumbled back.
The second rushed in immediately.
This time the belt cracked across his face, sending him crashing onto the concrete.
Three more came from different directions.
Kuldeep pivoted between them, striking knees, wrists, and joints with precise blows. One collapsed clutching his leg while another lost his grip on the baton entirely.
The supervisor pointed furiously.
"Circle him! Don’t let him move!"
Kuldeep smirked.
"The head goes down, the snake dies."
Ignoring everyone else, he sprinted straight toward the supervisor.
"Stop him!" the supervisor shouted.
Several attendants rushed to intercept him.
Kuldeep slipped past one swinging rod and countered with a kick to the ribs. Another tried grabbing him from the side but received a belt strike across the face.
Then a large, heavy-set worker stepped directly into his path.
"You ain’t going anywhere."
Kuldeep drove a punch into the man’s stomach.
The giant barely moved.
"Got you," the man grunted.
Immediately, others piled in.
One grabbed his leg.
Another wrapped both arms around his waist.
A third jumped onto his back.
Kuldeep reacted instantly.
He kicked the man clinging to his leg in the face and twisted free from another’s grip. When a rod came swinging toward his head, he shifted aside and the blow landed on one of the attendants restraining him instead.
The formation broke apart.
Kuldeep hurled one attacker into two others and regained some space.
Yet more attendants kept pouring out of the station.
The supervisor, now visibly nervous, shouted into his phone.
"When are you getting here? Are the police in this city useless? We pay you people for a reason!"
Aisha paled the moment she heard the word police.
She grabbed Rohit’s arm.
"Please do something. You can fight, right?"
Rohit glanced outside.
Despite being surrounded, Kuldeep was still fighting his way free. Every few seconds another man ended up on the ground.
The numbers were slowing him down, but not stopping him.
Rohit leaned back comfortably in his seat.
"I can," he said. "But he’s doing fine."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"That much is expected."
Aisha’s face paled as she tightened her grip on his arm.
"Please. If the police arrive, we’ll be stuck here for hours. We’re already late."
Rohit shrugged.
"Even better. The classes are boring anyway."
Outside, the supervisor suddenly pointed toward the old man.
"Grab him too! Don’t let that old bastard get away!"
Six attendants immediately moved toward the old man.
The old man tried to back away, panic written across his face.
Rohit’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Aisha noticed.
"Look," she pressed. "If nobody stops this, they’re going to seriously hurt him."
Rohit turned toward her.
The concern in her voice sounded genuine.
He wasn’t convinced.
He knew she cared far more about avoiding another police station visit than about the old man’s safety.
"Too risky," he said lazily. "My battery is dead."
Aisha stared at him for a second then grabbed his collar before he could react and pressed a quick kiss against his lips.
"Battery charged?" Aisha asked with a smug smile.
Rohit grinned.
He leaned forward and kissed her back, one hand settling briefly around her waist.
"Since you started it," he said, pulling away, "don’t think about running off when I come back."
Before Aisha could respond, he stepped out of the Bentley, dropping his tie and coat and shut the door behind him.
A faint blush colored her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she watched him with a small, intrigued smile.
"Go on then..." she whispered softly.
Her eyes sparkled with challenge and affection.
"Show me why I put my faith in you."
***
Before the old man could be dragged away, Rohit moved.
He exploded out of the crowd like a predator unleashed, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The workers barely had time to register his presence before chaos erupted.
Rohit twisted mid-stride, launching into a powerful split kick.
One foot slammed violently into the chest of the man holding the old man, sending him crashing backward.
The second foot smashed into the shoulder of another attacker rushing forward. A third man caught the follow-through and stumbled back with a pained grunt.
The old man broke free, stumbling away in shock.
"Who the hell—?"
One of the baton-wielding attendants reacted first.
He abandoned the old man and swung his rod viciously at Rohit’s head.
Rohit ducked smoothly under the whistling strike, grabbed the man’s collar, and yanked him forward with brutal force — using him as a human shield.
The next wave of baton strikes rained down on their own colleague instead.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The man screamed in agony as his friends beat him.
Rohit showed no mercy. He drove his forehead straight into the nose of the nearest attacker.
Blood sprayed across the concrete.
Before the man could collapse, Rohit hurled the screaming human shield into a group of three others. All four crashed to the ground in a tangled, groaning heap.
A final attacker charged from behind. Rohit spun fluidly, his heel whipping across the man’s jaw with a sickening crack. The kick sent him sprawling across the dirty ground.
For a brief moment, silence fell over the petrol station. Even Kuldeep stood frozen.
Two batons lay abandoned near Rohit’s feet. He bent down, picked them up, and rolled his shoulders with a casual crack. The batons spun once in his hands before settling into a relaxed, deadly fighting stance.
A dangerous grin spread across his face.
"Let’s dance."
The remaining attendants hesitated, fear flickering in their eyes. None of them looked eager to rush him anymore.
Then, in the distance, the sharp wail of sirens cut through the air.
Wee-woo. Wee-woo.
Rohit’s smile vanished instantly. His expression turned cold.
The police had actually arrived.
Right on time.
