Einar's alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. again. Another day of training, another day closer to the tournament.
Two weeks of non-stop preparation had left him exhausted—but stronger. His muscles were tighter, his reflexes sharper, and his mind more focused. Every punch, every kick, every dodge had been counted, measured, and repeated until it became instinct.
"Day fifteen… almost halfway through the countdown," Einar thought, wiping sweat from his brow. "I have to keep pushing. No excuses."
Dean watched silently from the corner of the warehouse-turned-gym, arms crossed. Paul leaned against the wall, quietly observing Einar's form, occasionally offering pointers on balance or breathing.
"Keep your guard up," Paul said, his voice low but precise.
"You're counting punches, not timing them."
Einar nodded, mentally counting every move. "One… two… three…" His mind was a metronome, and every strike felt sharper than the last.
After the morning session, Dean gathered Einar.
"Mission prep," Dean said.
"We're moving out. You're joining Rita's gang for recon tonight. Remember the rules."
Einar's stomach tensed. "Rules… survive, observe, learn. Don't die."
Rita and Paul were already waiting in the safehouse when they arrived. Dean had spent the afternoon convincing them again—reiterating the same point: Einar had to experience real gang operations to understand danger. The condition was clear: Dean would intervene only if Einar couldn't handle it.
Rita frowned at Einar.
"You sure you're ready for this, kid?"
Einar straightened.
"I'll be fine. I've trained for this."
Dean's eyes flicked to Einar.
"We'll see."
Night fell over the city. Neon lights painted the streets with a cold, artificial glow. Einar followed Rita through alleys and side streets, staying close to her as she signaled silently. Dean and Paul maintained distance, shadows moving along rooftops, always watching, always ready.
Einar's thoughts raced. "Day sixteen… seventeen… I'm counting every mission now. Every movement, every step, every breath. One misstep and it's over. But I have to do this. I have to survive and grow stronger."
Ahead, two Tigers leaned casually against a wall, unaware of the intruders. Einar froze. He felt Dean's silent presence in the shadows like a weight on his shoulder.
"I can handle this. I can handle this…"
Rita signaled him forward. Einar approached, careful, measured. He remembered all his training, counting each step, every subtle movement, every breath. "One… two… three…"
The first Tiger turned, but Einar's timing was perfect. He moved like water, slipping past detection, incapacitating the sentry with minimal noise. The other turned—Einar reacted, blocking and redirecting, using the precise techniques Dean had drilled into him.
"Day eighteen… nineteen… twenty…" Einar's mind ticked off each move as if counting punches in training. Each success built his confidence; each tiny mistake burned into memory for correction later.
By the end of the night, the gang had gathered crucial intel without alerting the majority of the Tigers. Einar's body ached, but his heart raced with the thrill of surviving real danger.
Rita looked at him, a mixture of relief and exasperation.
"You didn't get yourself killed… I'm impressed, kid."
Einar grinned, exhausted.
"Day twenty-one… counted every step, survived every punch. I guess I'm improving."
Dean's voice came from the shadows, low and controlled.
"Counting isn't enough. You'll need instinct, awareness, and fear… all at once. But today… you survived. That's a start."
Einar exhaled, feeling a flicker of pride.
Paul clapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Good work. Don't get cocky, though. This is just the beginning."
Einar nodded, already thinking of the next day, the next mission, the next step toward the tournament.
"Two more weeks… and I have to be ready for everything. The city, the gangs, the tournament… I have to survive it all."
The shadows of the city stretched long around them, but Einar felt a little more prepared, a little more alive. Every counted day brought him closer to becoming something more than just a student.