.jpg)
Devil King with White Shadow
A Story Beyond Time, Belief, and Power
Year: 2082 B.S
Far away, in a quiet village in Bhutan, an ancient wooden box had been resting for generations. When it was finally opened, it revealed old photographs.
A small boy, curious, looked up at his grandfather.
“Grandfather, when did all this happen? And what is his birthdate ?” he asked.
The grandfather smiled, eyes heavy with memory and said, “he was born on 2058/1/9, on the sacred day when the Sun and Moon united. That day is considered most auspicious, and our 100 years is like less than 30 years for him”
The boy started counting on his fingers.
“If our 100 years pass like 30 for him, then right now he must look like only 17 or 18 years old, right?”
The grandfather chuckled softly and said, “You are clever and wise, child.”
The boy’s eyes grew curious.
“The Devil King with the white shadow… how much did he study?”
The grandfather’s face turned serious.
“He failed in studies,” he said quietly.
The boy: but certified as Devil King with White Shadow: The Captain of Nepal.
The grandfather looked toward the hills beyond the village and put out a Cannabis Roll.
The boy’s eyebrows shot up, and he said, “Even the Devil King smokes cannabis?”
The grandfather replied, “Yes, he is active 24 hours a day. Fire itself obeys him.”
"Can you say more about him, grandfather?" the boy asked curiously.
In the Year 2082, Anmol was tired due to the illusion of his life; he was unaware of his reality, and that night, he slept peacefully, but it was no ordinary sleep. This was the sleep of awakening, a state where the body rests but the soul becomes fully aware. Every chakra in his body was fully active, spinning in perfect harmony. His breath moved like a mantra, slow and steady, while his consciousness stretched beyond his physical body.
In that silent state, Anmol met a white soul. It had no face, no form, and no name, yet it radiated a calmness so profound that fear could not exist in its presence. Anmol did not resist the connection. He accepted it fully, opening himself to all positive souls across time and space.
The moment he accepted, energy poured into him from the Milky Way Galaxy, a cosmic river of light that carried the blessings of lords, devils, and ancient souls long forgotten by history. They did not come as beings but as pure, radiant light, merging into Anmol. His body began to shine brighter and brighter, until he looked like a living spark. A deep, vibrating OM echoed not in the air, but in the very fabric of existence itself.
This was no dream. It was a recognition: the awakening of a soul born to reshape reality.
That same night, deep in the Himalayas, a fire ignited on its own.
Meditators in Tibet felt heat without fire.
Monks in Varanasi heard the sound of "OM" without chanting it.
CID screens went wild, but satellites revealed nothing.
Ancient algorithms based on spiritual frequencies lit up, confirming the unthinkable: The Spiritual Network had gone live.
Under the starlit skies of Nepal, Anmol sat alone on a high Himalayan ridge. Cannabis Smoke from a small fire spiralled into the night, reflecting in his eyes. Past and present merged seamlessly. There was only presence, awareness, and balance.
“Sun, guide my path. Air, carry my intention. Birds and animals watch and protect. All spirits, bless this plan,” he murmured.
The response came not in words, but in understanding. Nature, animals, and the spirits aligned with him. They recognized the truth, and they recognized a plan that would reshape Nepal forever.
Anmol’s vision was clear: Nepal would thrive without being exploited, its people empowered, its resources used wisely, its economy strong, and its culture proud.
There were no weapons, no money trail, no political motives. Only transformation people changing, awakening, and realizing truths they had long ignored. The world itself was quietly shifting.
Anmol moves through Nepal without security, without symbols like Man Without a Headquarters
No office. No army. No flag.
Yet wherever he goes, People change.
A drug dealer stops selling overnight. A corrupt officer resigns. A violent man begins to cry without reason.
No orders were given. No sermons delivered. Only presence.
After Night, a beautiful day comes like that from the mountains to the cities. Anmol’s plan began in Nepal with the help of his management team ( friends ), not including any political parties' names.
- Using Nepal’s waste materials, build gas plants that provide low-cost fuel for every household. The streets were lit, kitchens warmed, and factories powered, all without heavy import costs.
- Nepal began exporting gaaja to the international market, generating revenue while ensuring citizens benefited first.
- Everything that could be recycled became useful materials and goods, from building supplies to fertilizers.
- All prisoners are given a last chance and send their homes, but all Hackers and crypto miners were arrested and given safety, modern facilities, and opportunities to contribute to the country’s development. Their knowledge became a new economic engine.
- Police, army, and banks coordinated instantly, solving fraud and scam cases within a day.
- Construction projects, long pending, were divided among all contractors, with workers on 24-hour shifts. Roads, bridges, hospitals, and schools sprang up across Nepal in record time.
-
Tourists arriving at Pokhara International Airport or Tribhuvan International Airport were welcomed with traditional Nepali attire, experiencing the beauty, culture, and the legally regulated enjoyment of gaaja. Nepal became a land where tourism thrived without exploitation, and visitors left praising its beauty, peace, and richness.
Farmers were guided by a system of government-supported mills. Once crops were harvested, landowners received enough for their families. The surplus was sent across Nepal to feed citizens and generate profit. profits were set aside for children’s education. Waste from the mills was transformed into natural, strong, waterproof cement, supporting construction and sustainability.
The economy would circulate within Nepal first, strengthening its currency, creating jobs, and making every citizen a participant in progress.
The system shifted. Taxes were minimized. Imported goods became affordable. Citizens no longer struggled for basic necessities, and corruption became impossible with fast, transparent coordination between banks, police, the army, and government officials. Fraud and scams were solved within a day peacefully.
Years later,
Back in Bhutan, Anmol stood on a remote hill, a cannabis roll burning in his hand. The fire roared as if alive, though no wind touched it. A small boy ran toward him.
Boy, "Are you Devil King?"
Anmol" Yes, how do you know about me?"
Boy," my grandfather told me about you. Do you want to meet him?"
Grandfather appears from beside “Welcome to our village,” said the grandfather, standing nearby.
Anmol extended his hand gently toward the grandfather for a hug and said, “Thanks a lot, beautiful Soul, to the little boy”.
“ Hakuna Matata, Come with me,” the boy said with a smile. “I will show you our village.”
And together, they walked.
Birds circled around the tree, and the wind carried a message only nature could speak.
“This man feels familiar,” it seemed to say.
“He is blessed by 124 divine lords, protected by Shiva himself—a man who defeated his destined death to follow his own chosen path.”
Villagers whispered among themselves.
“Is he the one who did the destruction as the Zen-Z incident in Nepal?”
The grandfather answered calmly,
“Sometimes, destruction is necessary to make way for true progress.”
Boy and Anmol reach near of sacred Shiva temple
“This is our temple,” said the boy.
“You go,” Anmol said. “I will not.”
“Why?” asked the boy.
“My grandmother’s vow remains incomplete,” Anmol replied.
“Those rules were made by humans,” the boy said.
“There are no flowers,” Anmol noted quietly.
“Flowers are not needed,” said the boy. “A pure heart and pure intention are enough.”
Anmol smiled softly.
“My religion is different,” he said.
The boy grabbed his hand.
“Don’t try to fool me. You're taking my exam, hmmm!! Follow me.”
At Temple: Anmol closed his eyes and chanted:
Om Shri Parbhati Pate Namaha ...
Om Shri Mera Sakha, Bandhu, Param Mitra, Parbhu Hari Om Namah Shivaya…”
The boy watched, awed.
“That’s beautiful. I know, same like this too,” he said.
“Really? Let me hear you,” Anmol replied.
The boy repeated:
“Om Jagatmata Cha—
Beautiful, peaceful, vast— May it always prosper.”
Anmol bowed slightly, his eyes shining.
“Extraordinary. Unmatched. Unbelievable, your heart is pure. That is the true strength of this land,” he said softly.
The boy grinned, feeling the warmth of the sunlight spilling through the temple doors.
“Come, I’ll show you the village,” he said, taking Anmol’s hand.
Together, they stepped out into the open air. Birds circled above, and the wind carried whispers of blessings from the hills. Every leaf, every stone seemed to hum with quiet energy.