In Mirzapur, the throne is a trap. The real ruler is the one who never sits down.

But the real power sat in a grease-stained auto-rickshaw.

Beena Singh was taken down by her own lieutenants. Viju had recorded her abusing and underpaying her female shooters. He played the recording at a village gathering. The women walked away. Beena was found strangled with her own dupatta .

Chhotu "Crusher" died last. He challenged Guddu to a one-on-one fight at the stone-crusher. But Viju had already replaced the operator of the road roller with a deaf-mute laborer whose brother Chhotu had crushed years ago. As Chhotu raised his axe, the roller turned. It crushed him first.

"You're a nobody," Guddu said, tossing the Glock back to Viju. "That's your superpower. You drive an auto. You hear everything. The chai wallahs, the paan sellers, the prostitutes, the cops. You are the ear of the gutter."

"Viju," Abhay said, his voice cracking into manhood. "You could sit here. I would step down."

Viju should have run. Instead, he knelt.