Mountain Side Deal -2

As they waited, a big red truck appeared on the horizon, rumbling toward them. It wasn't overly large, but it looked sturdy enough to carry at least twenty people with ease. The truck rolled to a stop right in front of them. The door creaked open, and out stepped a man wearing a cap, his big, lengthy beard swaying slightly in the wind. He stood still for a moment, surveying the area, followed closely by a lean, skinny guy who had been driving.

Victor stood off to the side, seeing them stepping out. but his thoughts were elsewhere—on his father. His father, lying in a cold hospital bed, waiting for the surgery that would determine whether he would live or die. Victor didn't care about the deal, the people, or even the danger he was in. All he could think about was his father.

The truck driver was the first to speak, breaking the tension in the air. "Sorry, we got delayed because of some work."

The short guy in black, who had been glaring impatiently, snapped back, "Yeah? At least you know you're late."

Before things could escalate, the tall man with the beard intervened. "Don't mind him," he said, glancing at the driver. "He had to postpone his date today, and that's why he's pissed."

"Quite understandable," the truck driver replied, trying to keep the mood light.

But the bearded man was done with the chit-chat. "Let's not talk nonsense and get to work," he said, his tone firm.

The truck driver nodded, his demeanor shifting to something more serious. He turned to the tall guy and asked, "Where are the goods?"

"In the car trunks," the tall man responded without hesitation.

The truck driver acknowledged with a curt nod, then pulled out a walkie-talkie from his pocket. "Get to work," he commanded into it.

At his signal, the truck's back door swung open, and four bulky men jumped out, their heavy boots thudding against the ground. They began walking purposefully toward the cars. The short guy in black shot a glance at Victor, his eyes narrowing. "What are you standing around for? Go and help them."

Victor froze for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. But he quickly shook off his shock and moved toward the cars. He opened the trunks, revealing several big bags inside. The four men each grabbed a bag, hoisting them over their shoulders as if they weighed nothing, and headed back to the truck to load them.

Victor noticed there was still a small bag left in the trunk. He reached in and grabbed it, making his way to the truck. As he was about to place the bag inside, something caught his eye—a small piece of cloth peeking out from the corner of the zipper. It was strange, if it's money, documents, any other antics or diamonds it will make sense but clothes is strange for well organised gang like them. But Victor didn't have time to dwell on it. One of the bulky men noticed him hesitating and said, "Thanks for the help. You can go now."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Victor mumbled, his thoughts spinning. He turned and walked away, his mind trying to process everything. The bags seemed hastily packed, and he wondered if they were just clothes inside. But he had no way of knowing for sure.

As the driver and the bearded man turned to head back to the truck, something unexpected happened. A sound—a melody—began to drift through the air. Everyone froze, including Victor. They turned, searching for the source of the music.

There, leaning leisurely on a tree branch, was a figure. His face was partially obscured by the shade, but his relaxed posture was evident. A Bluetooth speaker was nestled beside him, playing a song. The lyrics floated through the tension-filled air: 🎶 "Life is very short, nanba… always be happy…" 🎶

[A/N: For those who don't know, this is a famous South Indian song from the movie *Master*, sung by Thalapathy Vijay (India's No.1 actor). You can find more information online.]

There is a confusing look on their faces and they are vigilant at the same time.

The figure moved his legs to the rhythm, clearly enjoying himself, completely unconcerned with the scene unfolding below him. He was in his own world, oblivious to the danger he might be in.

This blatant disregard for the tension around him infuriated the others. They exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin. Victor, however, was more shocked than angry. He couldn't believe this guy's audacity—lounging in a tree, listening to music, as if he were in a park instead of in the middle of what could be a dangerous deal.

'Poor guy,' Victor thought, feeling a pang of sympathy. 'Wrong time, wrong place. I hope they don't hurt him.' He knew nothing about the deal or what was inside the bags, but he was certain of one thing: these were not people to be trifled with. Making them angry could lead to endless trouble, and perhaps, something much worse.