Over the next three days, Draco engaged Samir in constant, one-sided combat.
During this time Draco wasn't allowed to leave the room even once. He spent every moment of every day in that room, and had only the silent Samir to keep himself company.
To Draco's dismay, that company was quite violent.
Draco estimated that he spent easily ten hours each day being repeatedly pummeled into the ground. After the first day he was so exhausted he spent the rest of his time in a deep, dreamless sleep.
However, in that time, Draco slowly felt himself changing.
After all, sustaining repeated abuse for hours on end, day after day, took a psychological toll on a man.
Draco now hardly noticed the pain in his body, and sometimes he wouldn't even wait for himself to heal before charging at Samir.
It wasn't that Draco didn't care about his body, it was just that he was so laser focused on finding an opening in Samir's attacks that he couldn't stop and wait.
Over the past three days, Draco became uncannily good at seeing Samir's attacks coming.
Currently, he still couldn't avoid any of them, but now there were few attacks that he didn't see coming before they sent him flying.
Another thing was happening to Draco that he hadn't yet realized.
As his body was repeatedly broken down and repaired hundreds upon hundreds of times, his muscles were slowly achieving an elevated state.
They were now firmer than they had ever been, more responsive, and much more resistant to pain.
If the current Draco were to fight your everyday street thug, he would notice that their blows would have little to no effect on his body.
Unfortunately for him, though, the person he was fighting was a Ḥāmin.
As such, Draco hardly realized that his body was growing stronger, and only noticed that his tolerance to pain was increasing.
'This is almost easy now.' Draco thought to himself as he received a punch to his ribs and was sent rolling across the padded floor.
He immediately stood up, but couldn't pinpoint Samir's location.
The entire room was filled with a series of white blurs as Samir moved in zig-zagging patterns across the room.
This was something new that Samir had started doing recently, and it pissed Draco off to no end.
He didn't know if Samir was doing this because he started being able to read his moves, but it meant that he was no longer able to predict which direction Samir would attack him from.
Truthfully, however, Samir had simply decided to start using Draco as a practice dummy.
Samir figured that if he was going to be stuck in the room with this man, then he might as well hone his skills in the process.
Draco thought that he saw something coming from his left, but when he turned to dodge he was kicked in the spine from behind and sent flying towards the center of the room.
As Draco lay on the floor he realized that he currently couldn't feel his legs, so he decided to evaluate his situation.
'It's not like I can't see his attacks anymore. The only problem I'm facing is that I'm too slow to dodge them. How can I land a hit on him before he can hit me?' Draco thought to himself as he regained control of his legs.
Standing up, Draco thought, 'He seems to know exactly when I'm about to attack, so there's no point in attacking first anymore.'
He seemed to realize something as he looked at the blur of white movement, 'Wait, what I'm looking at are just afterimages! I'll never be able to hit him if I strike at where he used to be. What I need to do is predict where he's going to be, then strike at precisely the right moment.'
However, right after thinking this, Draco was punched in the jaw and sent sprawling to the floor.
To Samir's interest, when Draco stood up, he was looking at him with a burning look in his eyes.
As Samir continued to rain down punches and kicks on Draco, he noticed that Draco was no longer attacking.
Samir saw that instead of fighting back, Draco just continued to stare at him with those intense, burning eyes.
Samir didn't know what Draco was trying to do, but to his surprise, he was feeling a sense of unease watching the unrelenting man stand up once again.
In all fairness, the only people Samir had ever seen go through such abuse and stay sane, were other Ḥāmin like himself.
Watching the man practically run into his fist for the upteempth time, however, Samir was starting to wonder if perhaps the man truly wasn't sane.
***
Two more days passed, and on the fifth day of being locked in the room, Draco seemed like an entirely different person.
His body exuded a feral presence, and his eyes looked dangerous, like those of a predator.
He noticed that he could move his body faster, and his punches seemed to carry several times more strength.
Draco was currently in the center of the room, and he and Samir were circling around each other as they stood in a fighting stance.
Suddenly, Samir disappeared from his spot and punched out towards Draco's head.
However, Draco had moved his head as soon as Samir disappeared, as if he had known where Samir was going to strike.
Samir's fist whizzed past Draco's head, but before Draco could do anything else, Samir's other fist had landed on his gut.
Draco was sent flying across the room, but just when he was about to hit the ground, his body twisted and Draco landed on both feet.
Draco skidded across the floor as he caught his balance, and looked up just in time to see several white afterimages speeding towards him.
Looking at the white blurs that were approaching him, Draco was noticing the familiar patterns in Samir's attacking strategies.
Draco was beginning to wonder when Samir got sloppy and started to leave openings, when he realized something.
'Wait, maybe he's not getting slower, but I'm getting faster.' he thought, determination surging up from within him.
Samir was now only a few feet in front of Draco, and Draco knew that if he missed his next attack he would lose his opportunity to hit Samir unprepared.
After all, Samir was a combat veteran of many years. He wouldn't allow the same attack to trick him twice.
Draco saw one of the white blurs abruptly move, and he knew that his chance had arrived.
Draco threw a punch towards the air, seemingly in a random direction.
For a split second Draco thought that he had missed the window, but suddenly, he felt his fist connect with something solid.
Draco felt every bone in his hand crumble under the impact, and even his arm was bent unnaturally to the side under the force of the blow.
However, when Draco looked at the Ḥāmin who was now staring at him with a stunned expression, and his arm still raised in shock, all of the pain became worth it.
If anyone were to play the scene back, they would also be just as stunned, because they would have seen that Draco had just punched Samir directly on his own fist!
Although it was probably the worst place to punch a Ḥāmin, that doesn't change the fact that Draco had indeed landed a punch on Samir!
Looking at his arm and hand that were now rapidly healing, Draco looked at Samir with a mixture of emotions on his face.
He was feeling anxiety, anger, and shock. However, above all else he was feeling joy, pure joy.
Draco fell to his knees, and he began to break into a fit of laughter as tears started to fall down his face.
He didn't know why he was crying, but he shouted out in happiness, "F*ck! I did it, I actually did it! I can finally get the f*ck out of here!"
***
Outside the room, Amira was watching the recording of Draco punching Samir's fist with a stunned expression on her face.
She was sitting at a desk in her personal study, and was watching the video feed of last night's events on a laptop.
'Could he actually be a prodigy?' she thought as she replayed the video over and over again, wondering how Draco could have possibly even seen Samir's attack.
However, no matter how many times she watched the video, she was still unable to come up with an answer.
Sighing, Amira leaned back in her comfortable looking chair.
'Originally, I had intended to keep him there for a week. Who would've thought that he would actually manage to land a punch on Samir in only a few days?' she thought as she wondered what to do next.
Truthfully, though, Amira was still struggling to believe what she had just seen.
After all, who were the Ḥāmin? They were supposed to be the elite soldiers groomed by the Khalid Dynasty from birth.
And who was Draco? He was just some cute drug dealer that she had met in Las Vegas, or at least that's what Amira had thought up until now.
Standing up from her chair, she began to walk out of the room.
'Well, I suppose I can't just keep him locked in there.' she thought as she headed towards the padded room.