Chapter 284: Fighter!!
Miles stepped forward into the chaos as two attackers rushed him at once, their fists cutting through the air with force and desperation. He raised both hands, catching their punches mid motion with perfect timing, his grip tightening around their wrists like iron locking into place. For a brief second, their momentum froze.
Then he looked straight into their eyes.
And smirked.
His fingers clenched harder, veins tightening across his forearms as he twisted both their arms inward with brutal precision, forcing their bodies to lean toward each other in a painful collapse of balance. Before they could react, his leg snapped forward
A clean kick.
Both men were sent crashing face first into the ground, their confidence shattering louder than their fall.
Miles stood over them, calm and cold.
"Is that all you have got, Rehman," he said quietly. "Where are your assassins?"
From the speakers, Rehman Nawwar let out a low laugh.
"Seeing you in action... it surprises me more than I expected. People like you belong in this world. Our world."
His tone shifted slightly.
"I know you can fight. I know your skills. But how long can you keep this up? You are human too."
A pause.
"And humans... get tired."
Miles’ expression did not change.
"Try me."
The next wave arrived.
More men.
More weapons.
More chaos.
They surrounded him from multiple directions, but Miles moved before they could coordinate. His body flowed through motion after motion, dodging strikes by inches, redirecting force, delivering sharp kicks and precise counters that broke formation again and again. Every move carried intent. Every strike carried efficiency.
Inside the operation room, the body cam struggled to keep up.
Even the trained agents found themselves leaning forward, eyes wide, unable to track the speed of his movements.
Monica spoke sharply.
"Cut the power now."
In the battlefield, the speakers crackled with static.
The screens in front of Rehman suddenly went dark.
"What happened?" Rehman shouted. "Turn it back on!"
"Yes, Bhaijan!"
Back in the operations room, one of the agents spoke quickly.
"The live feed has been replaced. Loop will reset in thirty minutes. We need to move fast."
Charles immediately took control.
"All agents, move now. Take them down and relocate the vans. Do not waste a second."
The power surged back within moments.
Screens flickered to life again.
Static faded.
Rehman’s voice returned, calm but edged with irritation.
"Clever move, Ghost. But I came prepared. Backup power will last for hours. The darkness will only come again when you close your eyes forever."
Miles’ eyes narrowed slightly.
"Backup..."
In the operations room, Monica muttered under her breath.
"What a fool..."
Back on the field, Miles drove his elbow into another attacker, followed by a sharp kick that sent him crashing into a pillar. Another man rushed him from behind, but Miles spun, striking with the back of his hand before finishing him with a precise blow to the neck.
Bodies fell.
But his breathing grew heavier.
Sweat formed across his brow.
The fight was beginning to take its toll.
Monica’s voice softened slightly.
"Boss... are you alright?"
Miles inhaled deeply, steadying himself.
"Do not worry. I can go on."
A faint smirk returned.
"It has been a while... fighting this many at once."
There was a pause.
"It is fun."
Then.
Another sound.
Slow footsteps.
Measured.
Different.
A presence entered.
The atmosphere shifted instantly
A man stepped forward, his posture relaxed yet dangerous, his gaze fixed entirely on Miles
"I almost feel guilty," he said calmly, "fighting you in this condition."
Miles lifted his head.
Recognition flickered.
"T Rex."
T Rex smiled faintly.
"I waited at your office this morning. Unfortunately, you were not there."
He took another step closer.
"But now... it is time to settle this."
His voice lowered.
"Once and for all."
Miles’ stance adjusted slightly, subtle but precise.
"You hid from me all these years... and now you want to settle things?"
T Rex chuckled.
"Back then, I did not know you were just a kid."
His eyes sharpened.
"Now that I do... let me tell you something."
His smile turned darker.
"I have killed many kids."
A pause.
"And it was fun."
Miles exhaled slowly, his expression returning to cold indifference.
"Another maniac."
His voice dropped.
"How about I send you to them... today."
...
Meanwhile.
Near the Atelier.
Inside the van.
An agent climbed into the driver’s seat, quickly assessing the controls. His hands moved over the ignition as he tried to start the engine.
The van sputtered.
Once.
Twice.
But it refused to start.
"Come on..."
He tried again.
Nothing.
"Dammit."
He stepped out immediately, moving to the front and opening the bonnet. His eyes scanned the engine carefully.
Everything looked intact.
Too intact.
He leaned closer, checking the connections, the circuits.
Then his expression changed.
He spoke into the comms, his voice tense.
"This is bad."
Monica leaned forward.
"What happened?"
The agent swallowed.
"The ECU has been tampered with. It’s fried"
A pause.
"The vans cannot be turned on."
Silence fell.
Seventeen bombs.
Immovable.
Ticking toward one o’clock.
Charles stared at the live feeds, his jaw tightening as the reports came in one after another.
"What about the other vans?" he demanded.
An agent responded immediately, voice tense.
"Negative, sir. All of them show the same issue. This was done deliberately."
Charles slammed his fist onto the table, the impact echoing through the operation room.
"Shit."
Monica stepped forward, her mind already racing through possibilities.
"We have to tow them away."
Charles shook his head, frustration visible.
"We do not have enough time for that. Not with this many vans scattered across the city."
One of the agents spoke again, leaning closer to the device inside the van.
"Wait... I have seen this kind of mechanism before."
All eyes turned to his screen.
"There should be a dialer system integrated with the internal clock. If we alter the current time, we might be able to delay the detonation."
Monica nodded instantly.
"Do it. Use your vehicle and rope to pull the van out of crowded areas if possible, but focus on the timing first."
"Understood."
...
Back at the abandoned naval base, the air grew heavier.
The battlefield fell silent for a brief moment.
Then T Rex slowly pulled out a long combat knife, the blade catching the faint light that seeped through the broken ceiling.
Miles wiped the edge of his own knife with calm precision, his breathing steady despite the exhaustion settling into his muscles.
For a few seconds, they simply stared at each other.
Two predators.
One outcome.
T Rex tilted his head slightly.
"I have been waiting for this moment," he said quietly.
Miles did not respond.
T Rex stepped forward first.
Fast.
His blade cut through the air in a diagonal strike aimed at Miles’ neck.
Miles moved just in time, leaning back as the blade missed him by inches, the wind of the swing brushing against his skin. He stepped in immediately, countering with a low slash aimed at T Rex’s ribs.
T Rex twisted his body, the blade grazing his side but not deep enough.
Blood appeared.
A thin line.
T Rex smiled.
"Good."
He lunged again, this time faster, his movements sharper, more aggressive. His knife came from below, aiming to pierce upward into Miles’ torso.
Miles deflected the strike with his forearm, the blade scraping across his sleeve, tearing fabric and drawing a shallow cut along his skin.
Pain.
Sharp.
But ignored.
Miles drove his knee into T Rex’s midsection, forcing him back a step, then followed with a quick stab toward his shoulder.
T Rex caught his wrist mid strike.
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then both acted at once.
T Rex twisted Miles’ arm violently, attempting to disarm him, but Miles rotated with the force, breaking free and spinning to deliver a backhand slash.
The blade cut across T Rex’s upper arm.
This time deeper.
Blood spilled more freely.
T Rex hissed slightly, stepping back.
"You have not slowed down," he said, breathing heavier now.
Miles remained silent, adjusting his stance.
Then they clashed again.
Faster.
Closer.
Blades collided, sparks briefly flashing as metal scraped against metal. T Rex’s attacks came in rapid succession, each one aimed to kill, each one calculated. Miles blocked, redirected, stepped through gaps, his movements fluid despite the fatigue building in his body.
A sudden thrust from T Rex slipped past his guard.
The blade cut across Miles’ side.
A deeper wound.
Miles staggered half a step back.
T Rex seized the moment, pressing forward, his knife slashing toward Miles’ throat.
Miles barely avoided it, ducking under the strike and driving his shoulder into T Rex’s chest, forcing distance between them.
Both men paused.
Breathing heavier now.
Blood marked both of them.
T Rex grinned.
"You are getting slower."
Miles exhaled, his grip tightening around his knife.
"Am I?"
Without warning, Miles reached behind with his free hand.
Another knife appeared.
T Rex’s eyes narrowed.
"Two blades... now this is interesting."
Miles moved first.
A feint with the right.
A real strike with the left.
T Rex blocked one but not the other.
The second blade pierced into his side.
He grunted, staggering slightly.
Miles did not stop.
He twisted the blade and pulled it out, then slashed across T Rex’s thigh.
The cut was deep.
T Rex’s leg buckled.
Still, he swung again, desperation and fury driving his movements, but they had lost precision.
Miles stepped inside his range.
Close.
Too close.
He drove his elbow into T Rex’s jaw, snapping his head back, then followed with a brutal kick to his injured leg.
T Rex collapsed onto one knee.
Before he could recover, Miles plunged the second knife straight into his thigh.
A raw, pained sound escaped T Rex as his body gave in, collapsing fully onto the ground.
Blood pooled beneath him.
He coughed, a trace of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.
For a moment, silence returned.
Miles stood over him, chest rising and falling, sweat dripping down his face, his own blood mixing with dust and grime.
T Rex looked up, struggling to focus.
A faint smile appeared.
"You... are... stronger than I thought."
Miles’ voice was steady despite the exhaustion.
"You were a good fighter."
A pause.
"But a fighter should fight to protect."
T Rex let out a weak laugh, which turned into a cough.
"Protect...?"
Miles raised his knife.
"And you forgot that."
With one final motion, swift and precise, he drove the blade down.
The fight ended.
Miles remained still for a second, breathing heavily, his body aching, his wounds beginning to burn as adrenaline slowly faded.
But there was no time to rest.
The battlefield was far from over.