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Chapter 336 A Knight Is Back
The small, sun-drenched apartment that Marwan and Maria moved into after their honeymoon still smelled faintly of new paint and hope. Their brief getaway to a quiet coastal town had been a balm, a precious interlude of sea salt, laughter, and the profound peace of being utterly alone together. But the moment they crossed the threshold back into the city, the real world, with its debts, duties, and lingering wounds, rushed in to meet them.Maria unpacked their bags with a serene efficiency, but her eyes tracked Marwan as he paced the living room like a restless ghost. His fingers tapped against his thigh, a nervous rhythm that betrayed his thoughts. He was already mapping his route back to the bakery, calculating the hours needed to clean the ovens that had been cold for weeks, inventory the flour stores, and reach out to his regular customers."Marwan," she said gently, placing a stack of his folded clothes on the bed. "Come sit. We should talk about the next few weeks."He stopped p
Chapter 335 His Lovely Day
The morning of Marwan’s wedding dawned bright and clear, the sky a pristine, optimistic blue. In the quiet bedroom at the grandparents' house, Marwan stood before the mirror, meticulously adjusting the collar of his Black Suit. The bandages were gone, replaced by a high-collared undershirt that concealed the fading, angry scar on his neck. For weeks, he had chafed against the doctors’ orders for complete rest. Every evening, when he thought no one was looking, he would perform slow, careful stretches, then light calisthenics, pushing his recovering body just to the edge of pain. He was determined not to look like a ghost in his wedding pictures. He wanted to look strong, healthy, and worthy of the woman who had waited for him.Hazim, who had caught him doing push-ups a week prior, had finally thrown his hands up in exasperation. “You are going to tear something vital, and then you’ll get married in a full-body cast,” he had warned, his tone a mixture of concern and frustration. “Th
Chapter 334 Joy
The interrogation chamber beneath the association's hall was a place of stark, utilitarian silence, broken only by the hum of a single, powerful light and the soft rustle of paper. Hadi and Hazim sat across from a pale and sweating Samir Mahmoud. The merchant's story, told and retold over several hours, remained stubbornly consistent—a tale of gullibility, not conspiracy.Hadi’s questions were methodical, a slow, relentless pressure. "Describe their hands, Samir. In detail.""The…the older one, he always wore gloves. Leather. Even indoors. The younger one… his fingers were very long. Too long, I think now.""And their interest in the Council President.What, precisely, did they ask?""Nothing direct!Never! It was always about… about infrastructure projects he had voted on. Port security budgets. Telecommunications grants. They framed it as investment opportunities. They said knowing which council members were 'forward-thinking' helped them assess risk."Hazim, leaning against the cool
Chapter 333 The Basement
Ali and Fadi were making their way through the bustling afternoon streets, heading towards Hadi’s residence. The sun beat down on the dusty pavement, and their conversation was a low, anxious murmur about permits, liabilities, and the mountain of bureaucratic hurdles standing between them and their dream of a proper research foundation."Remember," Ali said, adjusting the strap of his worn satchel, "we just need his advice on structuring the entity. Nothing more.""Right," Fadi replied, his lawyerly mind already drafting clauses in his head. "A clean, legal framework. That’s the priority."They found Hadi not in a sterile office, but amidst the comforting chaos of his personal study at home. Books were stacked in precarious towers, and the air smelled of old paper and strong coffee. After the customary greetings and a shared cup, they laid out their predicament: their vision for a guild-sanctioned research institute was being suffocated by a tangle of legal and administrative red tape
Chapter 332 Findings
Hazim sat in his office at the magazine’s headquarters. His task was methodical: compiling every available scrap of information about the Council head from the vast, yet curiously shallow, depths of the internet. The digital portrait that emerged was one of polished, public-facing accomplishment: age, academic credentials, a list of published research, and civic achievements framed in gold-leaf accolades. Yet, as Hazim cross-referenced and dug deepe. There was nothing, not a whisper, not a hinted-at rumor concerning the man’s political affiliations, personal loyalties, or the nature of his private dealings. It was as if that part of his life had been surgically erased from the public record. The realization was striking. "No one has ever dared to write about this before," Hazim murmured to the silent room, the weight of the implication settling upon him. He would be the first to trace the outlines of this carefully obscured past.The memory of Laith’s advice surfaced, to use the arm
Chapter 331 New Journey
The days of open warfare were over, but for Hazim, the quiet was a different kind of battle, one against inertia and a gnawing sense of uselessness.Then an offer came as a lifeline. An old friend from his university days, a man named Abu Abdullah who had always been more of a thinker than a fighter, had founded an independent magazine called Al_Mustaqbal. He reached out to Hazim."Your knowledge, your insight into the political landscape... it will be a great addition to our magazine." Abu Abdullah had said over coffee. "The way you see through the web of lies. The magazine needs that. You could be a very useful journalist."Hazim, who had been searching for an opportunity, was intrigued. The idea of wielding a pen again instead of a sword, of fighting with exposure and truth, appealed to the journalist part of him that had always simmered beneath the warrior's exterior. He accepted.His first major assignment was an investigation into the new government. It was a perfect fit. His rel
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