On a bustling road, a figure dressed in all black trailed behind four men.
The men, unaware, laughed and slapped each other on the back—save for the quiet man in long sleeves who seemed out of place in the lively atmosphere.
The throngs of people around him drowned out the sound of his shoes thudding against the paved pedestrian lane.
The rows of streetlights lined up on the side were fully lit, brightening the otherwise darkened path.
Jidenna looked up at the sky and grinned. "The sun's gone down, the moon's up; it's the perfect time for a perfect investigation," he said, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.
The four men turned, branching into a less populated street. After some twists and turns, they arrived in front of a huge black gate. Unlocking it, they entered.
Jidenna slowed but still kept up with them. He took a quick glance around the street, searching for any prying eyes, and, confirming there were none, he continued.
With quick, familiar movements, he scaled the fence, climbing over and landing on his feet, his knees bent to absorb the impact.
The corners of his lips curled downward slightly.
"No, my knees should have been bent a bit more to absorb the impact better," he thought.
He continued his journey, reflecting, "It's been four days since I've been trailing them, and still nothing—no extra clues." He sighed inwardly.
His lips twitched in irritation; he was starting to get impatient.
This was not how he had imagined it.
But he had no choice—he wasn't a mind reader. If he were, he would have gotten the answers immediately after questioning them—but he wasn't.
He also wasn't a fighter who could rush in and finish everything up.
Thirdly, he knew nobody; he couldn't hire someone to clean them up, even if he knew someone.
"Ha," he sighed again, without opening his mouth.
Remembering his account balance, the pitiful amount left made him want to travel back in time, to four days before, when he had made the decision to come back to Lagos by flight instead of by bus.
He just wanted to go back and bash his head in.
He should have thought about it—reasoned it. How could he, an unemployed person still holding only a secondary school leaver certificate, have a steady stream of money?
But because of his misjudgment, his money ran down faster than a 5-year-old gobbling down an ice cream.
He shook his head, walking slowly to the house. It was a two-story building painted white and gray, with the second floor boasting a protruding veranda guarded by silver railings.
On the veranda, some potted plants that looked like mini palm trees were placed along the sides.
He moved along the building, his shoulders and steps relaxed.
He moved with familiarity; obviously, it wasn't his first time being here.
He knew their schedule, though it wasn't entirely accurate.
He had only followed them for four days, but at least it should be helpful for a few more days before he leaves.
His brows furrowed in thought, remembering the acceptance letter still sitting in his laptop.
He was losing time.
He stayed below the kitchen window.
His mind flashed through better options, but he was reminded yet again of his current situation.
A very terrible one at that.
He couldn't remember the past of the original owner—a disadvantage.
Therefore, he knew no one. Everyone—his neighbors, the amicable mother downstairs who usually added an extra spoonful to every food he bought—were all strangers to him.
He could only resort to low, cheap tactics to get the job done.
As for the thought of going to the police, Jidenna had never considered it.
He decided to solve the problem in a way that tied up loose ends, keeping his identity unknown.
Just then an angry shout drew his attention.
"Shut up!" objects fell to the floor shattering it
This was followed by the screeching of metal chairs against tiles.
Hurried footsteps sounded, and Jidenna ducked behind the nearby flowers, peeking at the clearly agitated figures.
They marched towards the reception area behind the house, with the average, bald man leading the way while the other two trailed after him like chicks.
The reception area behind the house was like a larger gazebo, with a roof, four pillars, and a bamboo barricade.
The bald man sat on the chair first, leaning back, his crossed leg shaking impatiently
Soon after, the man whose body was built like a body builder and the fair, lean man sat opposite him.
When they were settled down, Jidenna's eyes lit up. It seemed he wouldn't have to take the tougher route—sneaking in.
He hid his large body behind the flowers and topiary, getting close enough to hear them.
As soon as he did, he heard the words that would make even the most calm and self-controlled person impulsively rush up and beat them up.
Those words had confirmed his suspicions.