Part 15

The smoke inside rose thicker and thicker, chilling the air. The crowd still screamed in fear. The blast still clung to the atmosphere—an echo of that single moment which had turned terror into laughter.

In Usuf’s chest flowed both weariness and unshaken courage. He laughed. In their laughter was a strange blend of anger and peace, as though this little chaos had swept away all the tiredness of their lives.

Before their eyes, a war unfolded—dogs, four painted “tigers,” who once seemed so mysterious and dreadful, now raging and fierce, driving fear away. Their growls and mad dashes only poured more colour into the fire of confusion.

Above, the sky mixed sunlight and shadow into a dramatic stage—
where two souls, two young warriors, stood united in courage and humanity.

The soft wind carried the smoke of noon, while the burning heavens above felt scorched with restless excitement. From the back door drifted the bitter smell of gunpowder, trailing a heavy, dangerous emotion through the air.

To tell the truth, the peaceful beauty of that moment suddenly shattered into an unknown sorrow, where the cries of nature and human voices merged into one. The calm spell of the afternoon broke apart, coming alive like the ghost of an ancient battlefield—where fear and courage, confusion and true heroism clashed together. Fear, hope, mockery, and bravery all mingled into one storm, where the darkness and the brilliance of the human soul stood face to face.

A roar rose up—it was the echo of Usuf’s determination, the silent hero of this story. Now time itself waited, as if holding its breath—when the smoke of this explosion cleared, what would be revealed? This was the moment where the colour of four dogs and the silent fire of a single firecracker marked the beginning of a new chapter.

At the hotel’s entrance, Usuf and Salih were still caught in a storm of laughter… until the roar came.

From behind them appeared twelve huge men, their footsteps pressing deep marks into the ground. Their bodies were like mountains of muscle, their arms and legs enormous, their eyes carrying an unusual hardness. Some of them had blazing fire in their gaze. They were at least ten years older than Usuf and Salih.

They too were a mysterious force, breaking the silence and spreading the fear of authority.

One of their leaders spoke, his voice booming like thunder, its echo filling the air around them:

“Our leader was eating inside. Because of you, even our leader got frightened.”

The words struck like a sword, carrying with them a dreadful weight that made the air itself grow heavy.

Salih felt a shiver run through his chest. His eyes filled with deep fear. Quickly pointing at Usuf, he said—

“I don’t know anything. This boy is the one doing everything.”

His voice carried both warning and a hidden prayer—like someone trying to dodge an approaching storm. He was scared and wanted to escape.

But Usuf’s eyes burned like signals of fire, his spirit and determination cutting through every shadow of fear. His face was like a stone—unyielding, the face of a warrior before battle, where there was no space for doubt.

The air around him seemed to freeze. Time itself stood on a thin border, shrinking between the twelve intruders and the two young men.

A murmur rose—words of pain and disbelief spreading like wildfire through the silence. It was the sign of a coming storm, a storm not only of violence, but of willpower, confidence, and unbreakable courage. A battle where every step would be written with blood, dust, and relentless determination.