Zaid kept a safe distance as Ayman reached an abandoned lot near the edge of the district. The air smelled of concrete and cigarette smoke. A lone streetlight flickered overhead, casting long shadows. A man stepped out from behind a rusted shipping container, tall, with a scar running down his cheek. His cold eyes scanned the area before settling on Ayman. "Abo Marzoq," Ayman said, his voice uncharacteristically tense. The man, Abo Marzoq, nodded. They spoke in hushed tones, their words swallowed by the distant hum of traffic. Zaid strained to listen, but all he caught were fragments, something about "next shipment" and "no mistakes this time." Then, Ayman reached into his bag and handed over the thick envelope. Abo Marzoq weighed it in his hand before tucking it inside his jacket. Without another word, he turned and vanished into the maze of alleyways. Ayman exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the ground. Then, as

After reading the message, Zaid tried hard to forget it. He tried hard to forget the amount and not think about what he could do with the money, but he failed. After many attempts to distract himself throughout the day and avoid thinking about it, he eventually found himself browsing an online store, looking at prices for women's watches to buy his mother a new one to replace the one he had accidentally broken two years ago. She still hadn't gotten a replacement, and he hadn't been able to fix the old one.His last desperate attempt was to immerse himself in Karam and Faris's conversation about sports cars, debating with them about which model was best as if he were an expert. Bassam was even shocked and almost believed Zaid actually knew a lot about the subject.By the end of the day, Zaid surrendered and admitted the reality: he had turned into a very materialistic person, maybe even a money-hungry dog. To ease his guilt, he convinced himself that the reason was the bad economic sit

The morning sun streamed through the large windows of the principals office, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air. Zaid stood slightly behind Fares, his arms crossed, as the older boy did all the talking.The Principle listened, steepling his fingers, his expression unreadable. When they finished recounting the events, he leaned back in his leather chair with a heavy sigh."I will intervene in the matter," the principal began, his voice calm but firm. "However, there is a consequence. Ayman's rank will be downgraded from a white card to a blue card. His actions violated school policy and caused significant problems. This is the rule."Fares's composure broke. "A blue card? That's too severe, sir! It will go on his permanent record.""The rule is the rule, Fares," the principal replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "He knew the risks."Fares clenched his jaw, thinking quickly." Fine. Okay, he probably deserved it. But you can't tell his parents. They can't know abou

The first rays of morning light shone across Zaid’s room, but his eyes were already open, fixed on the screen of his phone. His thumb swiped down, refreshing the messages. But there was nothing. The familiar, gut-clenching disappointment settled in. Twenty-four hours still hadn’t passed. The System didn't send him the request yet.He dragged himself through his routine, the anticipation a lead weight in his stomach. The walk to campus was a blur of autopilot, his mind replaying past tasks and their strange, often dangerous, rewards. He was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice the figure step directly into his path.“Are you Zaid?”Zaid stopped short, blinking. The boy in front of him was short, with a wiry frame and eyes that darted around with a nervous, bird-like energy. He was a complete stranger.“Zaid?” Zaid echoed, his guard instantly up. “Yes, I am.”The boy’s head twitched in a quick, jerky nod. “A word, please. But not here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead turnin

After the devastating realization that he’d been scammed, Zaid did what any logical person would do: he locked himself in his room for two whole days. The waterworks were for the money he’d lost, but also for the sheer embarrassment. He’d laughed when Ayman got tricked by that girl and her crew, and now? He’d fallen for the exact same con. Sick of seeing him cry Bassam decided it was time for an intervention. “Before the weekend is officially over,” Bassam announced, “I’m taking you somewhere nice. My treat.” It was his turn, after all; Zaid had paid for their outings plenty of times. They ended up at a restaurant that practically screamed ‘expensive.’ Zaid eyed the polished silverware with suspicion. “Are you sure you can actually afford this place?” he whispered. Bassam just smiled. “Relax. The owner is my dad’s wife. Well, used to be his wife before he died. She invited me tonight and told me to bring a friend.” At the door, a waiter greeted them warmly and led them to a pe