His feet are on the chair and his hands on the ground; the upper body is completely bare, and his toned muscles show his hard work. Sweat beads are starting to drip from his body. He takes a break, places his hand on his back, and does push-ups with one hand. There is an eerie silence; he cherishes this tranquil setting and despises the sounds of others around him. Just then, a man storms in, accompanied by two to three bodyguards. That man stares sharply at the people standing there and signals them to go out. All people bow their heads, immediately leave the area, and close the door to ensure their privacy.

"Hey, my son, VIKRANT..."