tionThe soft, classical piano music playing inside the luxury restaurant in Victoria Island was a complete contrast to the loud, chaotic energy of the Ebute-Metta sawmill. The air here didn't smell like sawdust and sweat; it smelled of expensive perfumes, imported steaks, and heavy tech-money.Adekunle sat at a glass table near the window, swirling a glass of vintage red wine. He wore a tailored, midnight-black suit that fit his hardened physique perfectly. His buzz cut was sharp, and his eyes were no longer those of a pampered boy—they were steady, cold, and observant."You look quite comfortable for a boy who spent his last few weeks sleeping on a wooden bench, Adekunle," a smooth, mocking voice said.Sitting across from him was Damini, a twenty-four-year-old cryptocurrency billionaire and the undisputed kingpin of the Lekki-Island cyber cartel. Damini was draped in luxury designer wear, sporting diamond-encrusted rings on every finger, and a sleek, high-tech smartwatch that kept buzzing with global transaction alerts. Next to him sat two burly, suited security guards holding subtle, high-end tactical earpieces."The bench was good for my posture, Damini," Adekunle replied smoothly, taking a slow sip of his wine. "Let's go straight to the format. Why did you call me to the Island?"Damini chuckled, a condescending sound that made the security guards smirk. He leaned forward, tapping his glowing smartwatch."The whole internet watched your little Nollywood show with your father, Chief Solomon. Congratulations on becoming a local hero," Damini sneered. "But the Mainland is small money, Adekunle. My cartel controls the digital funds, the international logistics, and the high-tech shipping lines coming through the Lekki ports. We want to expand our operations into your mainland blocks. We need your boys to handle the local distribution.""And if I say no?" Adekunle asked, his voice deadpan.Damini's smile vanished, his eyes turning icy. "If you say no, we will crush you. Your street boys fight with cutlasses and local pistols, Adekunle. My people use military-grade surveillance drones, dark-web hackers, and foreign mercenaries. You are playing old-school street games. We are playing global chess. Don't let your new mainland crown get heavy on your head."Before Damini could finish his threat, Adekunle's phone vibrated on the table. He casually tapped the speakerphone button."Chief pikin," Sledge's rough, unmistakable voice boomed through the premium restaurant speakers, instantly shattering the quiet classical music vibe. "The perimeter don secure o. We don block the two cyber-vans your Island boys park for outside. Kazeem don use his mechanic wire cutters scramble their tracking systems. The mercenaries inside the cars dey do frog jumps as I dey speak to you so."Damini's face instantly changed from arrogant to completely shocked. He frantically tapped his smartwatch, trying to access his security feed, but the screen only showed static.Adekunle leaned forward, his cold eyes locking onto Damini's sweating face. The exact same predatory look Chief Solomon used to have was now reflecting in his son's eyes."You have the tech money, Damini, but you don't know the streets," Adekunle whispered, tapping his glass against Damini's expensive watch with a sharp CLINK. "You think my barracks training was for decoration? Tell your mercenaries to enjoy the mainland hospitality tonight. Welcome to Season Two."
