Chapter 9: Fire and Fists**

The night air was heavy with tension as Bilal, Fatima, and four of Ali's other trusted gang members sped toward the warehouse in Zone 7. The ONI gang had received word that someone was setting the place on fire—a warehouse that held valuable merchandise, their lifeline to fund the gang's operations. Ali couldn't be there to handle it himself, so it was up to his team to get things under control.

Fatima, riding shotgun on Bilal's bike, shouted over the wind. "Who the hell do you think these guys are? No one messes with ONI territory!"

"No clue," Bilal replied, his face set in a grim expression. "But they're about to regret it."

Behind them were four more gang members, each with a distinct fighting style and personality:

- **Zubair**, a towering, muscular man with a shaved head, known for his brutal Krav Maga skills.

- **Areeb**, a quick and agile fighter, who preferred Capoeira, his kicks like whips in a fight.

- **Nida**, quiet and composed, an expert in Muay Thai, who fought with calm precision.

- **Salman**, the youngest of the group, but deadly with his mastery of Taekwondo.

When they reached the warehouse, they saw flames licking the side of the building, thick smoke pouring into the night sky. The crackling of fire mixed with the distant wails of sirens, but the authorities wouldn't arrive in time. The ONI gang was on their own.

As they approached the burning building, Bilal narrowed his eyes. "Someone's inside. I can feel it."

Sure enough, in the flickering light of the fire, a group of men—armed and wearing dark clothing—were laughing, watching the flames spread. Their leader, a tall guy with a wild look in his eyes and a scar across his face, was barking orders at the others.

"We don't have much time," Fatima whispered, stepping closer to Bilal. "What's the plan?"

"We don't negotiate with these guys," Bilal said coldly. "We teach them a lesson."

The gang spread out, surrounding the unknown thugs. Fatima stepped forward first, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. "Yo, scarface!" she called out to the leader. "You got a death wish or what? This is ONI turf."

The leader grinned wickedly. "ONI? Never heard of you. Besides, this warehouse is already toast."

Bilal stepped up next to Fatima, crossing his arms. "You're about to be toast if you don't back off. Last chance."

The thug leader spat on the ground. "Get 'em!"

Without wasting another second, Bilal and Fatima launched themselves at the group, followed by the rest of the ONI crew. The air exploded with action, the sounds of fists connecting with flesh and feet slamming into ribs echoed across the lot.

---

**The Fight Begins**

Zubair was the first to charge in, grabbing one of the thugs by the collar and slamming him into the ground with a powerful Krav Maga takedown. He moved like a wrecking ball, his brute force impossible to counter. One thug tried to swing a pipe at him, but Zubair caught it mid-air and snapped it in half with his bare hands.

Meanwhile, Areeb flipped over a couple of crates, his agile Capoeira movements baffling his opponents. His spinning kicks struck like lightning, knocking two of the thugs flat on their backs before they even knew what hit them.

Nida, calm and collected as always, blocked a punch aimed at her and retaliated with a sharp Muay Thai elbow strike to the thug's jaw, sending him sprawling. She moved gracefully, each of her strikes efficient and deadly.

Salman, the youngest but full of fire, darted in between two thugs, landing a series of rapid Taekwondo kicks to their torsos. One thug tried to grab him from behind, but Salman flipped over his attacker, landing on his feet and delivering a roundhouse kick that left the thug unconscious on the ground.

The thugs, clearly outmatched, started falling back, but the leader refused to budge.

Bilal and the scarred leader squared off, circling each other like wolves about to clash. "Big talk for a guy whose crew's eating dirt," Bilal growled.

The leader snarled, swinging a wild punch, but Bilal dodged it easily, landing a clean uppercut to the guy's jaw. The thug stumbled back, wiping blood from his mouth, but before he could recover, Fatima landed a spinning kick to his chest, sending him crashing into the flaming wall of the warehouse.

The fight ended as quickly as it had begun. The unknown gang was either knocked out or running for their lives. ONI stood victorious, but the warehouse fire was raging out of control.

"Merch is gone," Zubair grunted, eyeing the flames.

"Forget the merch," Bilal said, catching his breath. "The message was sent. No one messes with ONI."

---

**The Morning After**

The sun peeked over the horizon as Ali sat at the dining table, shoveling parathas into his mouth like nothing had happened. The night's events were behind him, though he knew he'd have to deal with the aftermath sooner or later. For now, he was just Ali, a regular guy with regular problems—or at least that's what he had to pretend.

His mom was bustling around the kitchen, pouring chai for his dad, who sat reading the newspaper.

"Ali, you need to start thinking about your future," his father said suddenly, not looking up from the paper. "You've finished college now. Which university are you thinking of?"

Ali paused mid-bite, his mind racing. University? He hadn't even thought about that. Between gang wars, the tournament, and keeping his double life a secret, the last thing on his mind was university applications.

"I... uh..." Ali stammered, buying time.

His dad lowered the paper and raised an eyebrow. "Beta, you need to focus on something. You can't just drift through life."

Ali forced a smile. "Of course, abbu. I'm just figuring things out."

His mom chimed in. "Maybe you can study business. You're good with handling... things." She smiled innocently, not knowing how true that statement was.

Ali nodded, trying to hide his anxiety. "Yeah, I'll think about it."

As his dad went back to reading the newspaper and his mom returned to the kitchen, Ali leaned back in his chair. Balancing these two worlds was only going to get harder, especially with the tournament coming up and the unknown gang stirring up trouble.

He took a deep breath. Somehow, he'd manage. He had to.

To be continued...