The next day, when the four met at school, some girls approached Ayaan.
"Hey… where's Waguri?" one of them asked, batting her eyelashes.
Ayaan crossed his arms and said firmly, "Don't talk about her in front of me."
All the girls looked disappointed but quickly started trying to flirt with Ayaan anyway. He just rolled his eyes and walked past.
Sam appeared beside them, calm as ever. "We'll start training after school," he said.
When school ended, the team headed to Sam's building.
Ayaan asked, "Sam, which floor is your apartment?"
Sam chuckled lightly. "This whole building is mine."
The four stared in shock, eyes wide.
Once inside, Sam led them toward a massive, high-tech gym. "We should go here first. This is where you'll begin mastering the styles."
Vasco's jaw dropped. "This… this is insane."
Anshuman and Ayaan exchanged glances. "Looks like training just got real," Ayaan muttered.
Sam opened the gym doors. "Welcome. From here, everything changes. If you want to face someone like James, you need to become stronger than you ever imagined."
The team stepped inside, feeling both excitement and determination—their toughest challenge was about to begin.
After an intense hour of training, the team sat down to catch their breath.
Ayaan wiped sweat from his forehead. "Alright… which fighting style should we master first?"
Sam stood in front of them, calm and focused. "Vasco, I've chosen five styles for you. These will suit your personality, posture, physique, and even help your mental discipline."
Vasco leaned forward, intrigued. "Which ones?"
Sam listed them clearly: "Muay Thai, Bajiquan, Wing Chun, Leopard Style, and Systema. Each one will sharpen your reflexes, power, and endurance."
Anshuman raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"
Sam nodded. "For you, Anshuman, the styles that fit your speed and agility are Taekwondo, Northern Praying Mantis, Xingyiquan, Baguazhang, and Praying Crane. You'll become faster, sharper, and unpredictable in attacks."
Ayaan shifted, feeling the weight of expectation. "And me?"
Sam looked at him carefully. "Ayaan… you are versatile, but I want you to master the styles that push your adaptability, strength, and defense. Bajiquan, Eagle Claw, Kalaripayattu, Leopard Style, and Systema. If you learn these, you'll be able to fight anyone in close or long range, with speed and power combined."
The three absorbed Sam's words, understanding the challenge ahead.
Vasco clenched his fists. "Alright… let's start. No more holding back."
Anshuman nodded. "We have to be ready for James."
Ayaan took a deep breath. "Then let's go. One step closer to being unstoppable."
The team returned to the training floor, determination blazing in their eyes.
Sam made a call.
"Send him," Sam said into the phone, voice calm. "The analyst. Tell him to come now."
A sleek black car rolled up fifteen minutes later. A man in his forties stepped out—short hair, a calm face, and eyes that missed nothing. He carried a small kit and a notebook. Sam greeted him with a single nod.
"This is Master Iyer," Sam told the others. "He'll analyze your bodies and tell you which single deadly style suits you best. We'll pick one each—no mixing. These styles are not toys."
Master Iyer smiled once and bowed slightly. "I don't teach fury," he said. "I teach fit—for the body and the consequence that follows each strike."
They led him into the training hall. He watched them move—Ayaan shadow-boxing, Vasco doing light stretches, Anshuman bouncing on his toes, Sam folding and unfolding his fingers. Master Iyer's eyes flicked, slow and precise. He took measurements, watched posture, tested reflexes, tapped pressure points, and listened to breath and heartbeat. He watched how each of them breathed under strain, how their weight shifted when they moved, how their hands curled when they relaxed.
When he finished he sat on a bench and opened his notebook. "I will recommend one deadly style for each of you," he said. "You will train it until you can use it without hesitation—and you will use it with responsibility. Do you understand?"
They all answered together, "Yes."
Master Iyer looked at Ayaan first. "You're a chaos fighter—you don't follow patterns, which makes you dangerous but undisciplined. You need a style that turns explosive power into a focused weapon. My pick for you is Bajiquan. Short-range, elbow and shoulder strikes, sudden bone-breaking blows. You have the torso power and the instinct—Bajiquan will make your unpredictability lethal and precise."
Ayaan's jaw tightened. "Bajiquan," he repeated. "I'll master it."
Master Iyer nodded and turned to Vasco. "You have the frame and the protector's heart. Your posture is natural for absorbing force and delivering raw power. You must have a system that converts brute force into adaptable defense. For you: Systema. It will teach you to use structure, breath, and fluid counters—control plus crushing impact."
Vasco cracked his knuckles slowly. "Systema. Solid."
Anshuman shifted next to him. Master Iyer's eyes softened a fraction. "Quick, athletic, and hyper-reactive. You are built for speed, traps, and lightning strikes aimed at vulnerable points. You need precision and a killer rhythm. I choose Northern Praying Mantis for you—fast hands, devastating limb traps, and relentless combos."
Anshuman grinned. "That sounds sick. I'm ready."
Finally Master Iyer looked at Sam. The air seemed to fold a little when Sam moved. The master hesitated almost imperceptibly, then wrote. "You are a calm river. But rivers can drown. You have pressure control and superb joint awareness. You will be my Eagle Claw student—grappling, seizing, and breaking structure. It suits your subtlety and lets you end fights without brute show."
Sam inclined his head once. "Eagle Claw," he said softly.
Master Iyer closed his notebook. "Remember—these are deadly arts. You will practice control, restraint, and the ethics of violence. One style each. No showboating. If any of you cannot hold to that, stop training."
Vasco snorted. "We won't go soft."
Ayaan looked from his friends to Sam. "We use only one each," he said, voice low. "No mixing. We train hard."
Anshuman pumped a fist. "Bajiquan, Systema, Mantis, Eagle Claw—let's burn this hall down."
Sam's face was unreadable, but he murmured, "Discipline first."
Master Iyer stepped forward and placed a hand lightly on Ayaan's shoulder. "Tomorrow, we begin with basics. One hour, three times a day. Pain is the teacher."
They laughed, half-hopeful, half-terrified. The sun slid past the windows. Outside the building the city moved on, ignorant of the vows made inside. Inside, the four prepared—each for a single, deadly path that would change what they were, and what they could become.
They all looked at Master Iyer and asked together, "Which style is the most dangerous?"
Master Iyer closed his eyes for a breath, then opened them slowly. "Danger depends on two things — the art itself, and the hands that use it. But if you want a single answer for impact and immediacy, Bajiquan is the most lethal in direct combat: short range, explosive strikes, elbow and shoulder blows that crush bone and shatter defense. A single perfect hit can end a fight."
Vasco snorted, "So Bajiquan is the champion?"
Master Iyer shook his head. "Not so fast. Systema is dangerous in a different way — it makes the user almost untouchable, turning absorbed force into counters. It breaks will and structure over time. A Systema master can dismantle opponents without flashy moves."
Anshuman leaned forward. "What about the Mantis?"
"The Northern Praying Mantis is surgical," Iyer said. "Speed, traps, joint breaks. It targets weak points relentlessly. In skilled hands it can cripple an opponent before they know where to block."
Sam's voice was calm. "Eagle Claw?"
"Eagle Claw seizes and controls," Iyer replied. "Grabs, locks, and fractures — it lets a smaller fighter dominate a bigger one. It's quietly deadly."
Master Iyer's face grew grave. "Each of these styles is deadly. Bajiquan hits like a hammer. Systema makes you nearly invulnerable and precise. Mantis strips movement and cripples. Eagle Claw ends fights by breaking the body's structure. The most dangerous style is the one the master has perfected and refuses to misuse."
Ayaan's jaw clenched. "So it comes down to who trains harder."
Iyer nodded. "Exactly. Technique without control kills the wielder's soul. Power without discipline kills everyone else."
They sat in silence, the weight of the answer settling in — danger was not just the art; it was the hand that wielded it.
The next day, Sam led them back to the private training hall, and Master Iyer was already waiting. His presence alone made the room feel heavier, like the air was charged with discipline.
"Today," Master Iyer began, his voice calm but firm, "you will learn the basics of your assigned styles. Don't expect it to be easy. These fundamentals are what make a fighter deadly."
Ayaan swallowed hard. "Sir… the basics?"
"Yes, boy," Iyer said, eyes narrowing. "These movements may look simple, but if you fail here, everything you build later will collapse."
Vasco cracked his knuckles. "I've done pushups, crunches, running… I'm ready."
"Physical strength is useless if your body refuses the forms," Iyer replied. "Bajiquan, your punches must hit like compressed steel. Every strike begins from rooted feet, from grounded force. If your feet slip, your punch is wasted."
Ayaan and Vasco got into stance, trying the first slow strikes. The moment Ayaan threw his first punch, Master Iyer corrected him with a sharp clap.
"NO! Elbows too wide. Your shoulder is exposed. Feel your center, feel your balance!"
Anshuman and his Northern Praying Mantis drills were even harder. "Speed without control is useless! Your wrist, your angles, everything must be precise. Faster is worthless if it misses the target!"
Sam guided Vasco through Systema basics. "Relax your body. Flow with the force, don't resist it. Every attack you absorb, you will turn against your opponent. But if your mind tenses, you fail."
After two hours, sweat drenched their clothes, muscles screamed, and they were exhausted. Yet none of them complained — each knew these basics were brutal but necessary.
Master Iyer walked between them, observing silently, then nodded. "If you can master these movements, then you will begin to understand the true power of your styles. Only then will you become truly dangerous."
Vasco muttered under his breath, "Dangerous? This is torture…"
Ayaan smirked despite the pain. "Torture that's going to make us unstoppable."
And so, their deadly training began — the basics that would test every ounce of strength, precision, and focus they had.
Ayaan rubbed his sore arms and groaned, "Ugh… my muscles are screaming. I feel like I got hit by a truck."
Anshuman laughed, "Welcome to life after Sam's training. Every move feels like it's breaking something."
Vasco smirked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "By the way, I went to the principal's office and got permission to shift into this class. Now we're officially together. No more splitting up."
Ayaan grinned despite the pain. "Perfect. Now we can strategize and train together without any interruptions."
Sam adjusted his glasses. "And trust me, the next phase will be even tougher. We need to be ready."
Suddenly, a boy came running down the hallway, nearly tripping. "Hey! Some people… they're calling you four… They want to see you… urgently!"
Vasco raised an eyebrow. "Calling us? And who dares summon the four of us?"
Anshuman cracked his knuckles. "Doesn't matter. Let's see what they want… or maybe we give them a lesson in manners."
Ayaan groaned, "Seriously… my body hurts, but fine… let's go."
They all got up, stretching stiff muscles, and started walking toward whoever was calling them, curiosity and anticipation in their eyes.
When they all reached the spot, they saw a man standing quietly. As they got closer, he handed them a card and walked away without saying a word.
Ayaan picked it up and looked at it. "It's… a clothing brand? Why would they want us?"
Anshuman frowned, flipping the card. "Wait… it says on the back: Only for Ayaan."
Vasco raised an eyebrow. "Only for him? Why not the rest of us?"
Sam adjusted his glasses. "Probably because… well, Ayaan is the most 'notable' among you. Handsome, strong… you get the idea."
Ayaan shook his head. "Hah… I'll check it out later. For now, let's head to the Master."
When they entered the training hall, the Master looked at them seriously. "Today, you all will begin the second stage of your styles. I will teach you the advanced combos, techniques, and variations. Only with mastery of this stage can you truly dominate your opponents."
They nodded, feeling the weight of the challenge, ready to push their limits further.
Master Iyer studied them for a long breath, then spoke slowly. "You asked for the real deadly arts. You will master one each — not fragments, not half-measures. Today I teach you the types inside each art and the signature combos you must train until they are reflex."
He stepped forward and pointed at Ayaan.
"Bajiquan — Types:
• Root Force — rooted stances, explosive linear drives.
• Elbow Storm — close-range elbow chains and shoulder crashes.
• Center Crush — attacks that break balance and spine.
Signature Combo — 'Thunder Core':
Rear stomp to anchor the opponent's weight. Compressed shoulder–elbow strike to the chest. Short spinning elbow into the ribs. Palm push to break posture and finish with an upward elbow to the jaw.
Execute as one breath; each hit amplifies the next.
He turned to Sam.
"Eagle Claw — Types:
• Seize & Lock — finger and wrist control for joint breaks.
• Tendon Trap — binding grips to stop movement.
• Crack Point — focused fractures on small bones.
Signature Combo — 'Iron Talon':
Quick grab to collar or wrist to fix the limb. Thumb press to the radial nerve to stun. Twist-and-step to torque an elbow or shoulder. Finger-led joint break or takedown to finish.
Precision, not power — practice until the grab is invisible.
He faced Anshuman next.
"Northern Praying Mantis — Types:
• Hook & Trap — fast limb hooks that lock and pull.
• Razor Strike — fingertip and knuckle strikes to vital points.
• Flowing Net — chaining traps that chain into throws.
Signature Combo — 'Mantis Web':
Low sweep to unbalance. Instant hook to capture the opponent's forearm. Snap palm to the temple or throat to stun. Trip-and-shoulder throw to end with a control pin.
Speed and angle — you must strike before intent forms.
Finally he nodded to Vasco.
"Systema — Types:
• Absorb & Return — let force pass and convert it.
• Structural Collapse — breaking an opponent's stance by destroying their base.
• Breath Control — use breathing to weaponize power and calm.
Signature Combo — 'Turning Mountain':
Relaxed intercept to absorb incoming strike. Hip twist to redirect momentum into the attacker. Short elbow counter to the solar plexus. Step-through shoulder lock to topple and immobilize.
Systema is timing and structure — turn their strength into their ruin.
Master Iyer's eyes burned into each of them. "These are not toys. Train the types, perfect the signature combos, then learn to discard them when the moment demands. Tomorrow — basics of the combos. Today — rest, mend, and understand the danger you invite by mastering these arts."
Next day, under the harsh lights of the training hall, they ran the basics again—repetitions until muscles remembered pain.
Ayaan wiped sweat from his brow and stepped forward. "Master… that move I saw the other day — the big spinning kick some fighters call a Brazilian kick — which style is it from? How do you do it properly?"
Master Iyer's eyes sharpened. He set down his water, walked to the mat, and folded his hands behind his back. "Good question. The 'Brazilian kick' you mean is a close cousin to moves from Capoeira and Brazilian kickboxing—it's a hybrid: the power of a roundhouse with the rotation and deception of Capoeira. Some call it meia-lua or martelo depending on the chamber and path. Listen closely."
He stepped into stance and began to demonstrate slowly, narrating as he moved.
"Origin & purpose. Capoeira gives it the spin and feint; kickboxing and Muay Thai give it the power and contact intent. It's used to strike the head or collarbone with angular force and to break an opponent's guard by changing rhythm."
"Mechanics.
Chamber. Raise the knee high and turn the supporting foot quickly on the ball — you must pivot the hips. Rotation. Snap the hips and rotate the torso; the striking leg whips around. The strike can be instep for speed or shin for impact. Targeting. Aim using the shoulders: head, jaw, or temple for knockout; ribs and collarbone for damage. Follow-through & recovery. After contact, retract the leg fast or step through to maintain balance. Never overcommit — that's how you get taken down."
He slowed and pointed at Ayaan's feet. "Your pivot is lazy. Turn your supporting foot fully. Your hips must be the engine. The arm opposite the kicking leg must guard and counterbalance. Watch."
Master Iyer performed the kick at half-speed: chamber, pivot, whip — the air sang. Then he increased speed until the mat thudded with a clean impact. "That is a martelo variant. Now watch a capoeira-style meia-lua: same rotation but lower posture, more deception, using feints and off-beat rhythm to create openings."
"Strength & timing drills." He turned to Sam and the others. "Start with slow repetitions—chamber and pivot ten times each leg. Then shadow-kick while holding a partner pad for controlled impact. Progress to medium power on a heavy bag. Finally, practice the step-through recovery and immediate guard."
"Common mistakes." He counted them off. "1) Not pivoting the supporting foot — kills power. 2) Over-rotating the spine — you expose your neck. 3) Telegraphed chamber — the opponent reads you. 4) Bad recovery — you leave yourself open to takedowns."
"Applications in a fight." Master Iyer's voice dropped. "Used correctly it breaks guards and creates openings for follow-up elbows or clinch. Used recklessly it leaves you sprawled. Against an experienced grappler, always be ready to land and control distance — or you'll be grabbed."
Ayaan watched, then nodded. "Show me a drill."
Master Iyer smiled faintly and guided Ayaan through the sequence: chamber, pivot, whip, retract. He adjusted Ayaan's shoulder, corrected his foot, and made him repeat until the movement felt tight and efficient.
Vasco clapped once. "Looks elegant. Dangerous too."
Anshuman laughed through a grimace as he tried the kick and stumbled. Sam moved with silent grace, executing a clean half-capoeira half-kickboxing spin that landed light on the pads.
"Remember," Master Iyer said as they slowed, "it's beautiful and lethal because it combines rhythm with power. Master the rhythm first; power follows. And never throw it without situational control."
They spent the rest of the session drilling—slow repetitions, then partner pads, then measured full-power strikes into the heavy bag. Sweat and the smell of rubber filled the hall. By the end, Ayaan's chamber tightened, his pivot landed truer, and his recovery grew faster.
As they left the mats, breath heavy but eyes bright with a new tool, Ayaan mouthed to Sam, "Thanks. That kick… I can use it."
Sam merely nodded, unreadable. Master Iyer packed his notebook, watching them with the same calm caution. "One move mastered," he said, "but remember—style without discipline is disaster. Train it hard, and use it smarter."
As they left the training hall that evening, the orange light of sunset fell across the floor. Ayaan walked silently, a towel slung around his neck, his mind far away.
He stopped suddenly, eyes widening.
"Wait…" he muttered.
Anshuman turned. "What happened, bro?"
Ayaan's fists clenched. "That kick… the one Master taught us today — that Brazilian kick."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What about it?"
Ayaan's jaw tightened. "That's the same move that guy used… the one who took Waguri away."
Vasco looked up, surprise flashing across his face. "You mean James?"
Ayaan nodded slowly. "Yes. I remember it now. When he kicked me — I thought he was aiming for my stomach, but he spun again and slammed my shoulder from the side. It was the same pattern. The same rhythm."
The group fell silent for a moment. The air around them felt heavier.
Anshuman broke the silence. "So he's mastered that style already…"
Sam crossed his arms, his voice calm but serious. "If that's true, then he's not just strong — he's trained in advanced Capoeira-Kickboxing hybrids. That means speed, deception, and power all at once."
Vasco cracked his knuckles. "Then we'll just train harder. Next time, he won't land that kick on you again."
Ayaan's eyes burned with determination. "No… next time, I'll counter it. I'll learn that style better than him. I'll make that move mine."
Sam smirked faintly. "Then get ready. Because the next stage isn't about learning—it's about surviving the training."
Ayaan looked at his team — Vasco, Anshuman, Sam — and nodded. "I don't care how hard it gets. That guy humiliated us once. Next time we meet…"
He clenched his fist tightly.
"I'll make sure he never forgets my name."