Threat

And with the door shut, Jcole had no other option but to halt his approach. when he saw her moving seductively towards the bathroom he thought he would be able to fulfill one of his fantasies, but the mirage was shattered by reality. A sigh escaped him, echoing the letdown that hung in the air.

Gazing at the closed bathroom door, Jcole muttered, "Rosaline Edo, you wouldn't be the death of me. But just know you started this."

Suddenly, a ripple of laughter interrupted the somber atmosphere. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Miss Rose teased, followed by another round of laughter. "I just called Mrs. Otu up stairs, so it's either you stay and face her lecture on morals, or retreat to your room, Jay."

Minutes later, Jcole reluctantly marched back to his room, clearly he was unwilling to endure Mrs. Otu's moral sermon hanging over him like an unwelcome shadow.

....

Few days later;

[10, 000 Seed Coins received]

Huh? Cipher ?

Jcole's hands, previously focused on lifting weights, now hesitated mid-air as he fumbled to grasp what was going on.

[Accumulation of inheritors seed coins from fans all over the globe]

Oh, so that's what's ap jcole mumbled..

It turned out that his song was currently making waves online. A surge of pride and accomplishment washed over him as a subtle smile played on J. Cole's lips as he absorbed the realization.

. ...

A week later;

[500, 000 Seed Coins from fans]

J. Cole found himself mesmerized by the rapid growth, as if witnessing a financial alchemy that turned 10,000 seed coins into 500,000 in just seven days. "The internet stuff is surely a treasure turf," he mused, marveling at the platform that had become a fertile ground for his artistic endeavors and of course a new source of seedcoins.

At 5 pm, J. Cole drove out his car from the garage and cruised in his Mercedes-AMG GT 4 Door Coupe, evoking envious glances from the security guards. A conversation ensued among the older guards at the gate:

Bald Security Man: "Mr. J. Cole is really living my dream."

Tall Security Man: *laughs* "Your dream? You're old enough to be his grandfather, man!"

Short Security Man: "I guess you've been broke in this lifetime for a long time, man... Haha."

Bald Security Man: "You all are just haters. Imagine driving a nice car, spending money like it's paper, and the icing on the cake, 'living with Miss Rose'..."

A collective "Ahh!" escaped from the older security guards.

"Now that's a fine dream there," echoed through the camaraderie of the chattering security guards. The picture-perfect scene in front of them triggered a cascade of memories, prompting reflections on their own pasts. As the Mercedes-Benz passed by, their minds wandered into the realm of "what ifs" – what if they had hustled more, what if they had seized opportunities.

Silently, they observed the sleek car fading into the distance, a symbol of a life they could only imagine. The weight of their thoughts crept in, and a collective headache seemed to settle in their contemplative silence. And just like a silent aggrement, the three oldies sat back on their seats with their protruded tummies and exposed feet out in the open, momentarily forgetting ever having a serious old-time crises/ thoughts.

.. ....

J. Cole was clearly having a good time as he smoothly maneuvered his car toward the parking lot when suddenly a feeling of threat overcame him. Alerted, he uttered, "Cipher! Bring out the nanotechnology gear."

In an instant, a fancy neck chain materialized in his palm. He swiftly clipped it around his neck, and a hologram materialized before him.

[Welcome inheritor]

[The nanotech gear will be customized into the clothing of your choice]

[Be Creative]

J. Cole was a hundred percent impressed, but the situation wasn't ideal for dwelling on his amazement. As he grappled with the sudden feeling of threat, questions filled his mind. Was he hallucinating, or was it a false alert?

"Cipher," J. Cole called out, seeking answers. "Do you have any clue?"

"Negative," Cipher replied. J. Cole, not willing to take chances, continued to customize his nanotechnology to his taste while slowly maneuvering his car, maintaining a heightened sense of awareness.

As J. Cole parked his car, the lingering uncertainty of the sensed threat lingered. Dismissing the unease, he took a deliberate deep breath before stepping out, maintaining a façade of obliviousness. However, a discerning eye would catch the subtle changes, particularly in his attire.

Gone was his previous outfit, replaced by a brown overhead hoodie that seamlessly blended with black jeans and sturdy brown military boots. Each piece bore the mark of nanotechnology customization, a stark departure from his earlier appearance.

J. Cole, seemingly unfazed, began his stride towards the exit. It was then that a sudden burst of laughter shattered the air. "Stop right there boy!".

...

Earlier in the day, a clandestine conspiracy unfolded within the dimly lit confines of a club, a palpable tension hung in the air. Tony, seated in the shadows, tapped his fingers anxiously on the table. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, heightened by the presence of Ruggedman and his stoic gang members, standing like silent sentinels, awaiting orders from their young mastermind.

As Tony cleared his throat, the rhythm of his tapping fingers seemed to echo the ominous tone of his impending speech. "Your mission today is to cripple that J. Cole of a boy. You know me; I don't toy with my toys. But a greater fish is involved in this, and I need the fish to be caught. I don't want Jonathan Cole standing before sunrise tomorrow. Do you hear me?"

The air seemed to grow denser as Ruggedman and his gang echoed a resolute, "Yes, boss." A sense of foreboding settled in, accompanied by a silent understanding of the gravity of their task.

"Move," Tony commanded, his voice cutting through the quiet tension. "Even if you get caught by the police, instruct the deputy to give me a call or my father. No one can touch you in this city."

A mysterious smile lifted the corners of Ruggedman's face as he nodded, exuding confidence. With a commanding shout, he rallied his gang, "Let's move, boys!"

"Goodbye, Jonathan Cole, once you're out of the picture, I'll make my move," Tony muttered with a venomous undertone, his disdain and determination palpable.

As the gang members set out on their mission, the air was thick with conflicting emotions—determination, anxiety, and a brewing storm of malice. Hours passed as their determination and spirits were dampened by the prolonged wait. Hours passed as they idled in a black car, anticipation building until they finally spotted their target emerging from a new, sparkling Mercedes-Benz. A renewed surge of hatred and jealousy coursed through their veins, and in that charged moment, Ruggedman laughed in anger as his thunderous voice shattered the silence, "Stop right there, boy!"