heric tension in the country was thick enough to cut with a rusty bayonet. The general elections were just two weeks away, and Chief Solomon's desperation for absolute political power had reached a boiling point. The streets were bubbling with unrest, and the media was a battleground.Inside an abandoned warehouse by the dark docks of the Lagos lagoon, thirty of the most notorious street lords and Area Boys from the mainland were gathered. They were armed, aggressive, and highly suspicious."Look, we no dey serve army man o!" a rugged guy with a scar across his neck, known as Sledge, barked, spitting local gin onto the floor. "The last general wey work with us use us dump body, then he refuse to pay!"Before the boys could cause a riot, the warehouse doors swung open.Adekunle walked in. He wasn't the soft, designer-wearing boy from the viral video anymore. His skinhead was fully grown into a rough buzz cut, his body was visibly hardened from Corporal Titus's brutal drills, and he was wearing a simple, faded local jersey with a pair of slippers. He looked exactly like one of them. He looked like the streets.Behind him, two military trucks pulled up, but instead of soldiers jumping out, three brand-new, unbranded SUVs were driven out, their engines purring like hungry beasts."Sledge, relax your temper," Adekunle said, his voice dropping into a smooth, raw Pidgin English that instantly caught their attention. "My papa na military chief, but me, I be street. Power dey change hand. If we help my papa secure the political clearance for this election, the whole of this mainland axis belongs to us. No police go touch you again."Adekunle walked over to Sledge and tossed a set of car keys directly into his hand. "These three motors na for you and your top boys to run the operations. No more jumping commercial buses to cause disruption. We roll like kings now."Sledge stared at the heavy keys, then at the shiny black SUVs. The greedy eyes of the other street boys lit up instantly."Oshey! Chief pikin!" one of the boys shouted, raising his cutlass in solidarity. "You be original correct guy! We dey your back!"Adekunle smiled, slapping Sledge on the shoulder, blending into the crowd effortlessly as they began to pass around bottles of local gin to celebrate the new alliance. To the street boys, Adekunle was their brother, their insider into the military wealth.But miles away, inside the dark security room of his mansion, Chief Solomon was watching the entire scene live through a hidden camera planted inside one of the SUVs. A cold, ruthless smile played on his lips."They are swallowing the bait beautifully," Chief Solomon muttered to his Captain."Sir," the Captain whispered, looking at the logistics file. "The vehicle papers are registered under an illegal smuggling ring tied to a political opposition party. The moment the election is over and your promotion is signed...""The moment my seat is secure," Chief Solomon interrupted, his eyes gleaming with absolute malice, "I will launch a massive military sweep on the mainland. I will claim these street boys were working as a terrorist cell funded by my political enemies. I will collect my cars back, lock Sledge and his useless boys in a maximum-security prison for life, and use the 'false accusation' to destroy the remaining opposition parties. I win on both sides."Chief Solomon poured a glass of wine, raising it toward the monitor where his son was laughing with the criminals.The street boys thought they were getting a share of the national cake. They had no idea that Adekunle's brotherhood was a beautifully scripted trap, and they were driving straight into a military graveyard.
