The stranger looked down at his hand, still vibrating from the impact of the blow, then shifted his gaze to Ahmed's eyes, which were smoldering with a mix of terror and defiance. He didn't grow angry; instead, his features softened into a trace of regret.
"It's alright... I apologize. I shouldn't have approached so hastily." He slowly withdrew his hand and continued, "I should have introduced myself first to put you at ease. My name is Joe... and yours?"
At that moment, a global war ignited inside Ahmed's head. Thoughts clashed like raging waves: "Should I run now? Should I give him my real name? Should I strike him again to force him back? But my body is shattered... I can't even stand. Is this man, 'Joe,' a lifebuoy, or is he the final trap?"
His turbulent train of thought was severed by a small wooden bowl. Steam rose from it, carrying the scent of warm food. Joe offered it calmly, maintaining a safe distance between them.
"Don't be afraid... in this place, hunger is the only enemy you need to fear right now. I am a friend."
Joe spoke with steady eyes, while Ahmed continued to stare at him in silence. His heart hammered against his chest like a drum, wondering if this food was the first step back to life... or the beginning of a new kind of servitude.