21 PERSONAL TERRITORY

He looks extremely young, almost matching Shaheer's height, with silky light brown hair and a face that exuded both vulnerability and determination. The piercing deep blue eyes reflected a burning passion, giving off intense vibes from this fairly handsome individual who seemed to be battling his own demons.

"What would you like to order today, Sir?" he asked, a smile etched on his face.

Shaheer leaned back, gauging the capabilities of this man and how he would handle unexpected situations. It was a test that could reveal a lot about a person's character and mental fortitude.

"What's your recommendation?" Shaheer inquired, playing his trump card.

"We have a special combination of parfait and French fries, Sir," he responded, his expression unchanged. If Shaheer hadn't seen the title above his head, he would have mistaken him for a seasoned waiter, devoid of any hesitation.

"And what would you prefer?" Shaheer continued, holding onto his trump card.

"I would prefer black coffee with chocolate donuts, Sir. Your usual, of course," he replied, surprising Shaheer. He didn't let his surprise show, though. His trump card was to ask for his usual, even though he had only been to this coffee shop three times since its opening.

"I never forget a face, and I haven't mentioned my usual to you," Shaheer replied, his voice tinged with coldness.

"You're right, Sir, but your presence is unmistakable. I remember the three times I've seen you here. Even though you've placed your order with other waiters, I have what people like to call keen hearing," he said, still speaking with the same robotic tone.

"I see. In that case, I'll have my usual, and your name," Shaheer said nonchalantly.

"I'm Sam. Feel free to call me if you need any assistance, Sir. I'll be right around the corner," Hasan replied, unwavering.

"Sam, huh? You should consider giving your name a bit more thought, Hasan. Isn't Sam a bit too old-school?" Shaheer remarked, a carefree smile playing on his lips.

Hasan's face clearly displayed surprise, his eyes widening as he observed Shaheer confidently smiling at his lies, a glint shining in his eyes. Hasan was left dumbfounded, struggling to comprehend where he had slipped up.

After pondering for a moment and failing to find an explanation, Hasan discarded the thought. He had a task to complete, and if this particular individual compromised his cover, he was to deliver a message.

The smile that had adorned Hasan's face faded away, leaving behind a cold, intense expression. He took a seat opposite Shaheer, retrieving a cigarette from his front chest pocket. With a flick of his thumb, he produced fire out of thin air, lighting the cigarette. It seemed like a cheap magic trick, but Shaheer, being an expert in sleight of hand and misdirection, was not easily fooled. Despite witnessing an unusual occurrence, he maintained his carefree demeanor.

As Hasan took a puff and exhaled the smoke above, Shaheer spoke up, a slight grin forming at the corner of his eyes.

"Aren't you going to bring my order, Mr. Sam? Or should I say, Hasan Imam, the Spy?"

"Listen, kid, what you've done here is impressive, but don't start boasting. I was giving you some leeway. Although you exceeded my expectations by revealing my real name, this test was supposed to be an easy one to pass," Hasan retorted, a cloud of smoke accompanying his words. While smoking indoors should have been prohibited, nobody asked him to stop, and Shaheer had no intention of becoming a hero and intervening.

Shaheer remained silent, giving Hasan the opportunity to finish his sentence.

"Well done. I wanted to congratulate you personally for this remarkable feat. Unfortunately, we still have some time left, and I'm saddened to inform you that this is also a dead end for you," Hasan stated with a grin.

"So, this was all just a test?" Shaheer raised an eyebrow, his expression nonchalant.

"Yes, precisely. Are you dissatisfied?" Hasan inquired, his smile lingering.

"No, not at all. It's just that you're quite the skilled liar, which makes it rather easy for me to read you," Shaheer replied, a carefree smile playing on his lips.

Hasan smiled back, but the amusement in his eyes waned. He stood up, never breaking eye contact with Shaheer, and stomped his foot on the ground. Within moments, a swirling mixture of red and black matter emerged, engulfing the surroundings and transforming the space into an empty void. Shaheer found himself sitting on thin air, as even the chair he had been occupying vanished. The only figure standing before him was the young man in the waiter's uniform, and a cacophony of familiar sounds echoed in Shaheer's mind.

Ding!

[You have been forced into a personal territory.]

The tension between them intensified as the environment shifted. Shaheer's senses were heightened, and he could feel an electrifying energy coursing through the air. The absence of any physical objects or boundaries added to the intensity of the moment.