Let the hunt begin(1), Uncovering the truth

The bald man leaned back into his chair, turned to them, and said, "What about that matter? Is it done?"

The remaining two men looked at each other before the muscular one stood up to answer, choking out, "Sir, we haven't confirmed it yet…" He trailed off, his gaze glued to the ground.

"Huh, what did you say?" Using his pinkie to clean his ears, "I didn't hear you well."

"I mean, we've done it, boss, but there's no report yet," he stammered, his eyes looking anywhere but at the bald man, who wore a black silk t-shirt and white khaki shorts.

Bam!

The boss slammed his palms onto the circular wooden table before him, startling the muscular man. His bulging muscles trembled in fright, and his already hunched back lowered, trying to shrink away from the piercing glare given to him.

Behind the bush, Jidenna's eyes widened in surprise. This was something he did not expect. The "friends" were actually just "boss and subordinate."

'That is an unpleasant twist,' he pursed his lips at the thought.

'Wait, if it's this type of relationship… and if they end up being the culprit, would that mean there is more to it?'

'Well, that's a thought for another day,' he threw it to the back of his mind and focused on the conversation. He did not want to miss any important information.

And he was right; the moment he refocused his attention, he heard:

"…I followed up, boss, like you said. I also gave him the juice, boss. When I called him, he drank the juice after a little suggestion."

"Good—good!" He burst out laughing, his laughter echoing through the air. His potbelly shook with his laughter.

"Ode, Oloshi, Olori buruku, come and eat free money, but you don't want to work."

"And he has the mind to tell me," he patted his chest in emphasis, "about his admission to a university in China."

"Can you imagine?" He looked at his goons. "Does he want me to smile about it and be happy for him?"

"Eh, what's the name of that university again?"

"Ehm," the muscular man scratched his non-existent hair.

"Boss, it should be Pishì…" he trailed off, unsure, when a calm voice interrupted his words.

"Pǔshì—it's Pǔshì University." At his words, silence descended on the trio.

"I checked about it. It's in the top three, precisely the 2nd university in the world, a place full of walking connections—" Envy flashed through his eyes.

"Something I couldn't have, even though I worked my hands off for it," he added silently, dampening the solemn atmosphere to something depressing.

"But he, a boy from a village," he spat out the word "village" in disgust.

"Weaseled his way in—effortlessly," the lean man's eyes glistened at the unfairness of life.

'That's why,' the sadness turned into a deep-seated hatred, 'he has to die!'

'How could he get something I couldn't? He wants to leave their world, casually leaving behind the things you've seen.'

'Impossible! I won't allow it!'

"Ehum, Ehum." A cough disrupted the lean man's thoughts.

He looked up to see the boss, who gave him a look to see if he was alright.

Afterward, the boss ended the conversation by saying, "Okay, we'll wait another week. Maybe the neighbors have a dull nose and can't smell." He gave a chuckle to his own little joke.

Then he turned serious. "During this period, no one should reach out to him."

"Don't contact him. When his rotting body is found, the police will look for the last people who had contact with him.

"The bush bar has no CCTV camera—but we can't deny that we saw him because of the neighbors around who must have seen us together and know we were his friends."

"But as long as we play it smooth, the police, with no evidence, will have to let us go."

"Because of this, during this period," he paused, then continued, emphasizing his next words, "Be. On. Your best behavior."

He leaned back into his chair, signifying the end, patted his knees, and sent them off with the words,

"Run along now. Better go to sleep; it's already 12 a.m., and we have a long day ahead of us."

The two goons gave a slight bow, then walked out, heading to the house when they heard the boss's voice.

"We'll be meeting The Long Beards in two days' time—be prepared."

Meanwhile, at the door of the house, the muscular man gave a gentle jab to the lean man and asked him, his voice concerned,

"Bros, what happened back there? You were looking somehow."

Without waiting for him, he continued,

"And why did you speak like that? You were lucky the boss didn't say anything… what's happening?"

"Huh," the lean man turned around, beaming. "No o, nothing's wrong."

He lowered his voice. "You know I hate traitors, even if it's just potential ones."

"You know how that guy was always shifting away anytime we wanted to introduce him, but when we give him money, and he will chop."

He rambled on some more nonsense, shifting the muscular man's attention from the subject, and when he was done, they were so far off the initial subject that the muscular man had forgotten.

"Good night—I mean, morning. I'll see you when the day don break." With another pat on the shoulders, he trotted off to his room, humming.

He thought smugly, 'Big for nothing, you no even get sense self.'

He opened his palm, looking down at an object in it.

'Only I am the chosen one; they said so themselves.' He chuckled, his thoughts wandering off to yonder land.

On the other hand, once they were out of sight, the boss mumbled,

"And I'll be meeting their boss this night—that troublesome old man that doesn't want to die, and still paranoid too. Who makes a meeting in a warehouse these days?"

His mumbling turned to grumbling.

"Hope I get an early retirement for all this stress." He lifted himself off the chair, stretching. After a few satisfying 'oohs,' he strolled back to the lit building in the distance.

The cool breeze ruffled his clothes.

Unknown to him, a pair of eyes filled with raging anger watched him before shifting to the grass he stepped on.

Still squatting behind the grass, Jidenna's fist clenched in anger, his body trembling as he barely stopped the rage from overtaking his head.

His mind reasoned, it's not time yet, but the emotions, which rose higher and higher like angry tides on a full moon, drowned out his logical reasoning, which screamed at him to stop.

He could feel it, the weakening of his will.

And when he thought of the original owner's parents, their smiles, the warmth in their arms when he was hugged,

The proud look in his father's eyes when they conversed, and the love and care when his mother packaged food for his trip or when she spoke of his naughty deeds as a child…

Jidenna knew all those weren't for him but were for their son.

He sneered, the corners of his lips drawing into a bloodthirsty smirk. "I don catch una, so na dem?"

A snap echoed in his mind, his emotions rammed against his defense, suppressing it.

He moved.