The next morning, Ali returned to the headquarters, determined to continue his training. He found Laith and Malik in the main hall, discussing their next mission. Without hesitation, Ali walked up to them, his expression serious but eager.
"I’m ready to train again," Ali said, his voice firm. "I'll do my best,I won’t back down." Laith smirked, crossing his arms. "Good. Because real improvement comes from discipline, not just enthusiasm." Malik nodded in agreement. "What do you want to focus on first?" "Speed," Ali answered without hesitation. "Laith, you’re the fastest. I need you to train me." Laith studied him for a moment before nodding. "Speed isn’t just about running, it’s about control, endurance, and strength. My speed comes from my lightweight physique and athleticism. To even come close, you’ll need hardcore training. You ready for that?" Ali nodded his head. "I'm ready, show me what to do." Laith led him to the headquarters’ private gym, a high-tech facility filled with advanced equipment. He stopped in front of a treadmill and motioned for Ali to step on. "First, the 200-meter challenge," Laith explained. "You sprint 200 meters at full speed, rest for 90 seconds, then repeat—eight times. If you complete it, we move to 300 meters, then 400. After that, strength training: push-ups and planks to build your core and back. Understood?" Ali took a deep breath and nodded. "Understood." He stepped onto the treadmill, gripping the handles as the machine whirred to life. The first sprint burned his lungs, but he pushed through. Again and again, he repeated the cycle, sweat dripping down his face, muscles screaming in protest. But he refused to stop. It was much harder than he thought, he fell down to his knees as ge completed the 200 meter challenge, but when he tried to get up and carry on with his training he tripped and fell again to his knees, his heart was beating hard against his chest, his lungs burned but he didn't want to give up. Not yet he said to himself, he ordered his feet to get up, after a few seconds they did. After the final sprint, he dropped to the floor, gasping, and forced himself through sets of push-ups and planks. His entire body trembled with exhaustion, but he gritted his teeth and finished the routine. As he collapsed onto the mat, the system screen flickered to life, displaying his results: [SPEED: +10] [STRENGTH: +10] [OVERALL POWER: +5] Laith smirked, folding his arms. "Not bad. But this is just the beginning." Ali grinned through his exhaustion, pushing himself up. "Then let’s keep going." Laith grinned and said "are you sure you want to carry on?" Ali’s muscles burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his legs trembled beneath him—but his pride refused to let him admit any of it. Instead, he forced a smirk, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pushed himself up from the gym floor. "This training was easy," he lied, his voice dripping with false confidence. "Give me a real challenge." Malik, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, let out a quiet chuckle. His sharp eyes flicked between Ali and Laith, sensing the brewing storm of humiliation. He didn’t say a word, he just waited, amused. Laith arched an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Oh? You want a real challenge?" He tilted his head, considering. "Alright then. Let’s see what that ego of yours is really made of." Without another word, he turned and strode out of the gym, gesturing for Ali to follow. Malik fell into step behind them, his smirk widening. They arrived at the headquarters’ outdoor running track, the sun beating down on the smooth asphalt. Laith stretched his arms lazily before turning to Ali, his grin sharp. "Ten laps," he announced. "You race me. If you finish within the same lap as me or even just 2 lap behind I’ll do whatever you want for a whole week." Ali’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked his surprise with a smug face . "Deal." Malik, now thoroughly entertained, pulled out his phone and sent a quick message. Within minutes, Marwan Hazim and the others arrived, curiosity written on their faces. "What’s going on?" Marwan asked, eyeing Ali and Laith as they took their positions at the starting line. "A race," Malik said, grinning. "And a bet." The others immediately perked up. "Laith wins by at least seven laps," one of them declared, pulling out a few bills. "No way, Ali’s not that bad," another argued. "Five laps difference, max." Malik shook his head, folding his arms. "Two laps. That’s my bet." Hazim, standing slightly apart from the group, didn’t join in. He simply watched in silence, his expression unreadable. Laith shot Ali a sidelong glance. "Ready to lose?" Ali rolled his shoulders, forcing another smirk. "You wish." Malik raised a hand. "On your marks…" The two tensed. "Get set…" A beat of silence. Malik took a deep breath, then he announced"GO!" They took off, Laith like a bolt of lightning, Ali with everything he had left. And within moments, it was painfully clear who was going to win. But Ali’s pride? That was still running strong. Despite Laith being nearly three laps ahead within the first minute, Ali refused to quit. His lungs burned and his legs screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and pushed harder, his stubborn pride fueling his determination. As Laith sprinted toward the finish line on his final lap, already slowing down in anticipation of victory, he was shocked to see Ali suddenly appear beside him, panting, drenched in sweat, but still standing. Against all odds, Ali had clawed his way back, finishing the race just two laps behind. The spectators erupted in disbelief. Malik grinned, holding up his bet slip triumphantly. "Told you—two laps!" Laith stared at Ali, both impressed and annoyed. "You’re either insane or just too damn stubborn to know when to quit." Ali, still gasping for air, managed a tired but defiant smirk. "Call it whatever you want… just remember your promise." Hazim, who had watched the entire race in silence, finally let out a quiet chuckle. "Not bad." Laith rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of respect in his gaze. "Fine. You earned it." Ali collapsed onto the track, exhausted but victorious in his own way. The challenge was over, but the real training had only just begun.Latest Chapter
Chapter 384 The Young Teacher
The morning sun was still low over the eastern ridge, casting long amber fingers through the chain-link fence surrounding the base's secondary training yard. Laith stood at the edge of the worn concrete, arms crossed, watching his four remaining students cycle through their drills. Three of them: Yazeed, Qasim, and Tamir had finally begun to move not as soldiers mimicking foreign movements, but as warriors who had absorbed those movements into their own flesh and blood.The fourth, a quiet marksman named Rafiq, was still struggling. Laith made a mental note to work with him individually later. But today, his attention was captured by Yazeed.Yazeed was a lithe, whipcord-thin young man from the southern desert tribes. For weeks, he had frustrated Laith with his tendency to turn every technique into something overly elaborate, adding flourishes and spins that compromised efficiency. But something had clicked in the past three days. His movements had tightened, the extraneous motion stri
Chapter 383 Three Brothers
The training yard behind the Knights' headquarters was quiet in the late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the worn mats and training dummies. Ali stood with his arms crossed, watching his two younger brothers run through a basic disarming drill for the seventh time. Samir's footwork was sloppy, and Sami kept telegraphing his strikes by tensing his shoulders a full second before moving."No, no, stop," Ali called out, his voice carrying that particular tone of exhausted resignation that had become his default when dealing with them. He stepped forward, separating the two panting youths. "Sami, you might as well send the Ghoul a formal invitation to your attack. Your shoulders are screaming 'I'm about to hit you' from across the room. And Samir, your stance is so wide I could drive a truck through it. You're not trying to wrestle a bear; you're trying to maintain mobility.""But Marwan said a wide stance gives better stability," Samir protested, wiping sweat from his foreh
Chapter 382 A Long War
The air in the professor's study was thick with the scent of old paper, dust, and the sharp, clean aroma of ozone from multiple humming computer towers. Professor Elias Nazzal, a historian and linguist whose name was whispered with reverence in academic circles and suspicion in others, pushed his spectacles up his nose, his finger tracing a line on a yellowed parchment laid out under the glow of a magnifying lamp."This," he said, his voice a low, urgent rumble, "is not just a political land grab, Hazim. It is a ritual."Hazim leaned over the desk, his eyes scanning the intricate, angular script that was definitively not Arabic, nor any human language. It was Ghoul script, transcribed from fragments found in raids over the years. The parchment was part of a much larger, pieced-together translation Nazzal had been working on for a decade."They—the government of UFN, or rather, the Ghouls within it, are not just building an administrative complex where the Grand Mosque stands," Nazzal
Chapter 381 The Silence Of The Night
Ali took Sami to a doctor and luckily his little brother was in perfect shape. No Ghoul-tainted cuts, no internal injuries from the suplex or the subsequent terror. Ali, who had stood silently by during the examination, his face etched with deep fatigue, felt a knot in his chest loosen infinitesimally.“He is fine. Just needs rest, and perhaps a long talk about workplace safety,” the doctor had said with a knowing, but careful, smile.Now, Ali drove them back to the main Knights’ headquarters, the silence in the car a complex tapestry. It wasn’t the angry silence from before, nor the usual dismissive quiet. It was a heavy, processing silence. Sami stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past, his knuckles white where they gripped his knees. The adrenaline had fully receded, leaving behind a hollow, trembling awareness of what he had done, and what had almost happened.When they entered the common area of the HQ, they found Samir alone, hunched on a worn sofa, staring blan
Chapter 380 A New Knight
The high-frequency shriek of the Ghoul died abruptly as Ali’s powered fist, channeling the last surge of his armor’s capacitor, punched clean through the cracked obsidian carapace and into the unnatural creature beneath. There was a sickening crunch, a final, spasmodic twitch of the blade-like limbs, and then the creature collapsed into a smoldering heap of inert chitin and viscous, black fluid.Ali stood over it, his primary focus shifting to tactical assessment. The immediate threat was neutralized, but the breach protocol was clear: sanitize and secure.For the next ten minutes, he moved through the ravaged sub-level with methodical precision. He checked every shadowed corner, every toppled equipment rack, using his armor’s multi-spectrum scanners to detect any residual heat signatures or anomalous energy readings. He found none. The intruder had come alone, died alone. He reached the sealed door of Professor Riyad’s safe-room.“Professor, it’s Ali. The hostiles are down. Single en
Chapter 379 A Protector
Ali’s black Modern car screeched to a halt in the executive parking lot. In the passenger seat, Sami, his younger brother, was still rubbing his neck, his eyes slightly unfocused."Stay here," Ali commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. He didn't even look at Sami as he spoke, his eyes fixed on the building's main entrance, where Fadi was already waiting, his face grim. "Lock the doors. Do not get out of this car for any reason. Do you understand?""But I can help!" Sami protested, the words slurring slightly from his lingering dizziness. "I've been training! I can—"Ali turned sharply, and the fury in his eyes was so raw it stole Sami’s breath. "You are not ready! You're dizzy from your own brother's amateur suplex! You would be a liability, a distraction, a target. You will stay. Here."The words were a cold slap. Before Sami could muster another protest, Ali was out of the car, the door slamming shut with finality. Sami watched, seething with a mix of shame and frustrati
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