Dumi spread her arms wide as she dropped from the window of the Van Vogel building, the night air tugging at her hair and clothes as they fluttered in the wind. The cool breeze kissed her skin, and she felt an odd sense of calm as she gazed down at the city, the glittering lights stretching out beneath her.
What a beautiful view, she thought as she plummeted through the darkness.
As the ground rushed closer, Dumi deftly stabbed a blade into the building's wall, the impact slowing her descent as she slid down its surface. With a graceful landing, she touched down silently and immediately scanned the area. The security team would likely be on high alert by now, and she needed to make her exit quickly.
I wonder how they'll manage to get out of that place, she mused with a smirk.
She pulled out a small remote from her pocket and pressed a button, triggering a charge that disrupted the hotel's power systems. The lights flickered and went out, leaving the building in darkness. Every door in the place was now rendered useless, stuck in their frames. Dumi seized this fleeting moment of chaos to leave the compound, leaving the security officers to struggle with their problem.
The next morning, Blessing sat in a stark, windowless room. A metal table stood between her and an empty chair. The walls were bare, the air heavy with the sterile scent of the police station. She had been brought in for questioning about the previous night's massacre. As she waited, her thoughts returned to the shadowy figure that had coldly dispatched those men. The memory tightened around her chest like a vice, each recollection amplifying her fear.Voices murmured beyond the door. Moments later, it swung open, and a young man stepped inside. He walked with a purposeful stride and settled into the chair opposite her.
"I'm Detective Maiwake," he said, his gaze steady.
"I suppose you know why you're here."
Blessing stared at the table, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"The officers mentioned you haven't answered any of their questions," he continued, his voice calm yet probing.
She remained silent, her hands clenched in her lap.Maiwake leaned back, studying her.
This might take longer than expected, he thought.
Dumi slid open the small drawer beside her bed, revealing a worn writing pad. The page was covered in names, some neatly crossed out, others still untouched. She picked up a pen and drew a line through another name, adding it to the list of those already marked off. With a quick glance at the page, she closed the pad and returned it to its place in the drawer.She stepped into the sitting room, where Mr. Edema sat in his favorite armchair, a book in hand, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The room was quiet, save for the rustle of pages and the steady tick of the clock on the wall. He looked up as she entered.
"Still heading to that rich lady's house?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of concern.
"Of course, Gramps. I need to work if we're going to keep things running around here," she replied, a determined edge in her tone.
He frowned slightly, lowering the book. "But why cleaning? It's just like yesterday when you went to Van Vogel Suites."
Dumi let out a long breath. "It's easier on the mind," she said, her eyes flickering with a thought she kept to herself: And far more discreet.
"Alright, just be careful. No need to stir up any trouble."
She smiled faintly, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Don't worry, I won't. See you later, Gramps."
John sat in his office, seething with frustration. His fingers drummed on the desk as his thoughts churned. How the hell are we supposed to catch that thing if we don't even know who's next?
"Adeola," he snapped, breaking the silence, "how's the political party holding up?"
The smooth, modulated voice of Adeola, his AI assistant, filled the room. "Not well, boss. Based on the data, it appears most political figures are preparing to leave town."
John scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Typical. What else?"
"At first, I calculated that it might be a coincidence that both murder victims were from the DPP party," Adeola continued, her tone calm and precise.
John's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. "My party?"
"I detected a lapse in your recognition of your own party members," Adeola noted, her voice neutral.
"Why should I? Just get to the point—I think I see where this is going."
"The third victim is also from the DPP," Adeola confirmed.
John leaned forward, the pieces beginning to click into place. "So the assassin is targeting DPP members. Am I right?"
"Correct, boss. This also raises the probability that the disturbing caller may be our perpetrator."
John snapped his fingers, a sharp sound in the tense room. "Makes sense."
Adeola paused for a microsecond before continuing, "Additionally, what actions should be taken regarding Blessing? She was at the scene of the last murder."
John sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, she's with the police now. I can't imagine the terror she's going through."
"Based on typical human psychological responses, it is unlikely they will obtain useful information from her. She would still be in a state of shock."
"That's our security system for you," John muttered, adjusting his posture as if trying to shake off his unease.
"Let me know as soon as she leaves the police station."
"Understood, boss."
Blessing sat in the back of a taxi, her gaze distant but her mind much clearer than it had been the night before. The chaotic memories of the previous evening felt less overwhelming now. When the taxi pulled up to her home, she paid the driver and stepped out. Her parents were already at the door, their concern evident. Her mother reached for her coat.
"How are you feeling?" her father asked, his voice gentle.
So, the police must have told them, she thought."I'm fine," she replied, offering a small smile.
She followed them inside, the familiar warmth of home wrapping around her. The pangs of hunger she had ignored all day now gnawed at her. In the kitchen, she began to prepare something to eat, trying to push away the flashback that surfaced—the image of Detective Maiwake, awkwardly offering her a chocolate bar in a misguided attempt to get her to talk. She had refused, of course.What was he thinking? Offering an adult a candy bar like I'm some child, she mused bitterly, her resentment towards the detective momentarily distracting her from her hunger.But the hunger was real, and it persisted. She rummaged through the freezer, pulling out some food to defrost. As she set about her task, her mother entered the kitchen.
"Don't worry, darling, go rest. I'll handle this," her mother said, her voice soft but firm.
"It's okay, I can—" Blessing protested, but her mother had already started preparing the rice to go with the sauce.Seeing her mother's determination, Blessing relented and left the kitchen, feeling a sudden need to clear her mind. The weight of her recent breakup and the horrors she had witnessed pressed heavily on her. She wandered into the sitting room, where her father was watching TV, the usual news channel playing.
"Aspiring minister for DPP was—" The screen flashed, but her father quickly changed the channel as soon as he noticed her.
"Today, with Joel Prince…" the TV now announced.
Mum and Dad are acting strange… And where's their usual nagging? Just because I saw a few murders… She shook her head, recalling the numbness she'd felt at the police station.
"I guess they have a point," she muttered to herself, finally sinking into the couch. After a while, her mother brought her a plate of food, gently urging her to eat.As she ate, her phone buzzed with a message from John. He wanted to meet up. A knot of worry tightened in her chest.
What if John crosses paths with that… thing? She shuddered at the memory of the dark figure, so lethal and precise. Could John handle it?
She hurried through her meal, feeling the urgency of the situation. On a normal day, she would have been surprised that her parents didn't try to stop her from leaving, but given how strangely they'd been acting since she got back, she expected it. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, she texted John the meeting location and slipped out of the house, the night air cool against her skin.
John pulled up to the meeting spot, parking the car with a sharp turn of the wheel. His impatience simmered just beneath the surface as he checked his watch for the third time.
I hate being the one waiting, he thought, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.Minutes later, he spotted Blessing walking toward him. She was easy to spot, even among the evening crowd of commuters, her distinct, purposeful stride setting her apart. She wore her usual outfit—a coat over an inner vest, with straight trousers, and a face mask that concealed most of her features. But that walk… John would recognize it anywhere.He flicked his headlights twice to signal her. She looked up, saw the car, and deftly maneuvered through the remaining pedestrians. Sliding into the passenger seat, she pulled off her mask and let out an exasperated breath.
"Whew… that driver was something else," she muttered, shaking her head.
"Good evening, ma'am," John said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.Blessing shot him a look, unimpressed.
"You too? First my parents act all strange, and now you?"John stifled a chuckle, but Blessing was on a roll."At home, they're treating me like I was almost murdered or something," she continued, her frustration evident.John couldn't help but laugh.
"On a normal day they're all on your nerves with their nagging And when they don't, they become weird---"
"Okay, okay," John interrupted with a grin. "How was your date with Max?"
Blessing's expression darkened as she tried to maintain her composure. "Forget about that."
John burst out laughing, louder this time.
"That little man thinks he can toy with my feelings," she grumbled, her fingers tightening into a fist.
"How, how how?" John acts like a child cheering.
Blessing responds silently, her voice almost like a grumble."He broke up with me by introducing to his new fiancée on our date?"
John acted, mockingly shocked.
Blessing grabbed his shirt in frustration, her eyes narrowing. "Is this funny to you?"
"No, but it's hard not to laugh when you keep trying and end up the same way. Why not just agree--" John began, still smiling.
"No," she cut him off, her tone firm.
"Hey, I wasn't finished."
"No, because I know what you're going to say. And the answer is still no. I'm not dating you, John. There's someone out there who's waiting for me to fill the void in his heart, and he's definitely not you."
John feigned a wounded expression. "Well, that's harsh. But I can't help but wonder why these guys keep running away."
Blessing almost frowned, but the memory of the assassination she had witnessed resurfaced, sobering her.
"John, listen… I came to warn you because I know what I saw. Sure, it was dark, but that killer… no one can escape from them," she said, her voice serious.
"Yeah, about the assassin," John interrupted, leaning back in his seat.
"Adeola and I figured out that the killer is targeting DPP members, and I might've gotten on her bad side."
"That's exactly why I'm warning you!" Blessing said, her tone rising.
"Sorry, but one of our party members is leaving town soon. I'm betting the assassin won't let them escape, so I plan to be there when they strike."
"Are you insane? That thing will kill you!" she exclaimed, gripping his arm.
"You seem to forget—I'm the 'Iron Hero,'" John replied with a cocky grin.
"Iron Hero, my foot. The killer is probably young and agile, and you… how old are you, anyway?"
"Forty-two."
"And you think your old bones can keep up?"
"Yeah age says so but does this seem old to you?" John teased, his grin widening.
Blessing placed her hand on his. "Please, John, just leave the DPP and let them handle their own problems. I know you're capable, but I won't sleep easy knowing you're going up against what I saw last night."
John sighed, his smile fading. "Sorry, Blessing, but I can't back down. Not like you want me to."
He gently moved her hand away.They both fell into an uneasy silence, the tension hanging between them. After a moment, Blessing sighed and opened the door, slipping her mask back on. The streets were quieter now, with only a few stragglers left. She glanced back at John, a mix of worry and frustration in her eyes.
Look at me being concerned about him she thought, feeling a pang of regret.
John watched her go, then rested his head on the steering wheel with a deep sigh. Why won't she just admit that she cares about me? I saw it in her eyes.
"Patience, John, patience," he muttered to himself.
Adeola's voice came through, calm and precise"Did you say something?"
"Nothing, just thinking," John replied, straightening up.
"Where to, boss?" Adeola asked.
"No need to worry, I feel like driving this time," John answered, reaching for the ignition.
"As you wish," Adeola responded.
Dumi walked down the massive hallway of Alhaja Aisha Yusuf's mansion, her footsteps echoing off the marble floors. The place was so grand it almost felt like it belonged in a different world, far removed from her own.
How can someone live in a house this big? she wondered, glancing around at the intricately carved pillars and crystal chandeliers.She was part of a group of ladies tasked with cleaning the mansion, moving through the sprawling corridors and rooms with practiced efficiency. As she worked, she overheard some of the maids gossiping nearby, their voices low but clear enough for her to catch snippets of their conversation.
"Alhaja dey commot this night oh," one of the maids whispered, her tone laced with curiosity.
"Ah… I dey hear am small small since, but me no believe," the other maid replied, her disbelief evident.
The first maid continued, leaning in slightly."You no dey see say madam bodyguard don plenty pass e dey be before? And me self…" She lowered her voice further, but Dumi could still make out the faint whisper. "I am following."
"Ah…" The second maid's surprise was palpable.
Dumi's eyes widened as the realization hit her. So it's true… I have to act fast… Tonight. She began strategizing in her mind, running through her plans for the evening as she continued her work, her focus sharp despite the distractions around her. Later, after the cleaning was done, Dumi joined the other maids in their quarters. The small, cramped space was a stark contrast to the opulence of the mansion, but she paid it no mind. While the other maids chatted and laughed, enjoying their free time, Dumi was engrossed in her phone. She navigated through several websites, absorbing information on car engines with a seriousness that stood out in the lively room.The other maids barely noticed her quiet determination, too wrapped up in their own conversations. Dumi, however, was undeterred, her brow furrowing slightly as she examined a virtual 3D model of an engine, rotating it on her screen to understand its intricacies.
Hmmm… Alhaja, doo. She thought to herself, a mix of anticipation and resolve settling in as she prepared for the night ahead.She continued to study, her mind alternating between the mechanical details on her screen and the plan she was carefully piecing together. All she had to do now was wait for Alhaja's late-night exit.
Iron Hero crouched at the edge of a nearby rooftop, his dark silhouette blending into the night sky. From his vantage point atop the tallest building close to Alhaja Aisha Yusuf's mansion, he had a clear view of the compound below. The estate was a fortress, surrounded by high walls and patrolled by vigilant guards. But tonight, his focus was on the convoy preparing to leave the premises. Alhaja's vehicle, a sleek black jeep, was flanked by three identical cars—two trailing behind and one leading the way. The convoy moved with military precision as they drove out of the compound, maintaining the tight formation on the road. The headlights cut through the darkness, casting fleeting shadows on the surrounding buildings.
"I wonder how our assassin plans to get to her," John muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he watched the vehicles disappear down the street.
He'd been perched on this rooftop all evening, waiting for any sign of danger, but so far, nothing.
Maybe now that she's on the move, she'll be safe... unless she's not working alone.
"I'm afraid we could have a problem, boss..." Adeola's voice cut through his thoughts, calm yet urgent.John's vision shifted to infrared, the cityscape now a sea of heat signatures against the cold background.
"What is this?" John asked, frowning as he scanned the convoy.
"I'm detecting six heat signatures in the second vehicle, as opposed to the expected five," Adeola replied.
"And the sixth seems to be lying down."
John cursed under his breath, his tone low and deadly. "Damn it... This person—"
Without another word, he launched himself from the rooftop, diving down to the street below. He landed with a powerful thud in front of the convoy, the impact cracking the pavement and forcing the vehicles to a screeching halt. The sudden stop caused a ripple of panic among the bodyguards, and that was when he saw her—the shadowy figure clinging to the underside of the second car.She cursed, realizing she'd been spotted, and released her grip on the vehicle, bolting down the street. John took off after her, his eyes locked on the fleeing figure.
"Oh no, you don't," he growled, his hand shooting out to fire a zipline.
The line snaked through the air, but the assassin was fast—too fast. She made a sharp turn at the corner of a building, disappearing from sight.John followed, his boots skidding slightly as he rounded the corner, only to find himself in front of a late-night club. Neon lights flashed erratically, and the heavy bass of music vibrated through the walls.
She's trying to lose me in the crowd. Smart, but not smart enough.
He landed silently in a nearby alley and quickly retracted his armor into a compact backpack. Pulling on a nose mask, he blended in with the late-night crowd and slipped into the club. The air inside was thick with smoke and sweat, and the dance floor was a chaotic mess of bodies moving to the pounding rhythm. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the assassin.
We've likely lost our target, but we still need to maximize our chances somehow, he thought, his frustration mounting.His gaze fell on a crumpled outfit discarded on the floor near the back exit. He cursed under his breath, realizing she'd already changed and slipped away. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd been so focused on the chase that he'd forgotten what the assassin might have already accomplished.A loud bang from outside snapped him back to the present. His heart sank as he pushed his way through the crowd and burst out into the night. The scene that greeted him was one of chaos. Alhaja's bodyguards were in a frenzy, circling the jeep as they tried to figure out what had just happened.
"Adeola, scan for explosives," John ordered, his voice tense.
"I detect no explosives, as expected, boss," Adeola responded.
"Dammit—"His words were cut off by a notification ping.
He glanced down at his wrist display, where a message flashed ominously: "My target is dead I'm coming for you next."
John's jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface. "Now whoever they are, they've gotten me mad."
Without another moment's hesitation, he suited up and took to the skies, his mind already racing with thoughts of his next move.