Episode 4
[Two Weeks Ago]
A young man in a green shirt stood confidently, surrounded by a crowd of fifty. There was unshakable trust on his face and a gleam in his eyes — as if he knew exactly who he was and what he came to do.
Suddenly, a tall, aggressive man stepped forward from the crowd. His footsteps were heavy, his intentions clear. Without warning, he rushed toward the boy in green.
But the boy was ready. He swiftly shifted into a defensive stance. Like a trained fighter, he responded with powerful punches and lightning-fast kicks. But his opponent felt like a wall — the strikes barely slowed him down.
Clenching his teeth, the green-shirted boy muttered:
"So you won't go down easily? Alright then... Watch this — my Fire Kick!"
He stepped back a few paces, gathering his strength. The man ahead was still disoriented from the punches. Before he could recover, the boy leapt into the air. For a moment, it felt as if time froze. His body spun once midair — and then his foot landed squarely on the side of the man's head.
A thunderous strike.
The man fell to the ground — completely unconscious.
The boy raised his voice:
"Everyone — stop right there!"
The crowd froze. A sudden stillness settled over the place. One man had another by the hair, someone else had twisted an ear, and one poor guy — who had spent the whole fight trying to save his trousers — now stood awkwardly in just his undergarments.
The four young men, dressed in bright-colored shirts, lined up beside ten others wearing all black. In front of them stood the scattered members of the other group — stunned and silent.
The leader of the rival group hesitantly asked:
"Why are you here?"
The green-shirted boy stepped forward. His voice was sharp and steady:
"We're from Black Shadow. Our leader has sent a message for you."
As soon as the name Black Shadow was spoken, the crowd tensed. Eyes widened. Faces lost color.
With a trembling voice, the man asked:
"What message?"
"Our leader wants you to leave your current group... and join Black Shadow."
Fear spread across the leader's face.
"And if we refuse?"
The green-shirted boy's tone turned firm:
"Then you'll be choosing your own end. Deliver this message to everyone. And if anyone tries to act smart — the result won't be pleasant."
The man forced a nervous laugh:
"Who'd be foolish enough to go against Black Shadow? Don't worry — we understand."
He turned to his group and shouted:
"What do you all say?"
All of them nodded silently in agreement — as if an official command had just been accepted.
Then a boy in a blue shirt stepped forward and smiled at the green-shirted one:
"Well, that was easy, Waqas."
Waqas laughed:
"It really was, Talal."
Talal added with a grin:
"Come on, let's eat something."
Waqas nodded:
"I'm starving too."
The two of them walked away together, arms over each other's shoulders. The others quietly returned to their vehicles. The alley sank back into stillness.
---
[Two Weeks Later]
Silence filled a large hall. In the middle of the floor lay the lifeless body of Arshad Zaman — bloodied and alone.
Zayin stood to one side, calm and composed, holding a long-range weapon in his right hand. His eyes were cold, and his face showed deep restraint.
He began to speak — his voice low, but clear:
"You're all free now. Anyone who wants to leave... may leave. But there's one condition."
Waqas and Talal exchanged surprised glances.
Zayin's gaze swept over the room:
"Whoever leaves must promise never to return to this world. If I hear that any of you has committed even the smallest wrong... I'll handle it myself."
A tense silence followed. No one spoke.
"And anyone under the age of twenty has no place in my team."
A young man in a green shirt stepped forward. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties. His voice was calm but mature:
"We don't accept favors, Zayin. You gave us our freedom — but we won't leave without repaying it."
Zayin gave a short nod:
"As you wish."
Just then, a team member handed a few papers to Talal. Quietly, Talal walked toward Arshad Zaman's body. He gently removed a ring from the man's bloodied hand and used his fingerprint to sign the documents.
Standing up, he said:
"Boss, it's done."
Zayin handed his weapon to Waqas, slipped his left hand into the pocket of his black trousers, and without saying another word, walked out — leaving behind only silence and his unshakable presence.
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