He stepped out of the car just as a cinematic orchestral track began. It sounded like the theme song for a fallen king returning for his throne. Every step toward the billiard hall felt heavier, more deliberate.
Metin reached for his phone. He didnāt call for backup. Instead, he opened a playlist titled Kavgaya Giderken Dinlenecek Muzikler
The rhythmic chanting in the song matched the thumping in his chest. He wasn't scared anymore; he was a machine. He adjusted the rearview mirror, not to check his hair, but to look into his own eyes. He stepped out of the car just as
The fight hadn't started yet, but in Metin's head, he had already won. The playlist had done its job. Metin reached for his phone
The neon sign of the "Poyraz Billiards" flickered, casting a rhythmic red glow over Metinās bruised knuckles. He sat in the driverās seat of his beat-up 1998 TofaÅ Åahin, watching the shadows move inside the hall. Tonight wasn't about a game; it was about the debt they claimed his brother owed.