Chapter 10 – The Road to the Capital
The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and sea salt as Kente and his crew stood on the deck of the Obia-Esu, a sturdy wooden ship powered by intricate juju inscriptions. The ship creaked as it cut through the water, gliding past shimmering schools of fish that shimmered under the moonlight.
The capital lay ahead—a vast, sprawling city that pulsed with life and danger in equal measure. Here, power wasn't just measured by strength but by alliances, cunning, and the unseen forces lurking beneath the surface. Escort missions, gang eliminations, and high-profile rescues would be their new reality, and failure meant death.
Kente leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the city lights in the distance. Tamara Mellon, ever the sharp-tongued one, stood beside him, arms crossed.
"So, you think you're ready for this?" she asked, her tone teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.
Kente smirked. "I don't think. I know."
Tamara rolled her eyes. "Right. And what's your grand plan when we run into something—or someone—that's way out of our league?"
"Simple," Kente said, stretching. "We don't fight fair."
Tamara chuckled, shaking her head. "You're either a genius or an idiot. Probably both."
Behind them, Prophet Mirror was flipping a silver coin in his palm, his goat-like pupils flickering in the dim light. "The capital is different," he said softly. "It has eyes everywhere. You'll need more than clever tricks to survive there."
Miss Wolo, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "Prophet is right. The capital isn't like the slums we grew up in. The moment we step off this ship, we'll be watched—by officials, by criminals, by those looking for new prey."
Kente sighed. "Good. Let them watch. They'll see what happens when they mess with us."
Miss Wolo frowned, but before she could argue, a voice rang out from above.
"Oi! We've got company!"
From the crow's nest, the scout pointed toward the horizon. A second ship, smaller but faster, was closing in on them. The crimson flags on its mast bore the sigil of the Nyoka Syndicate, one of the most notorious crime factions in the capital.
"Tch," Tamara hissed. "Looks like they're giving us a welcome party."
Kente cracked his knuckles. "Finally. I was getting bored."
Prophet Mirror turned to Miss Wolo. "Orders?"
She didn't hesitate. "We don't let them board. If they get too close, we send them a message."
The ship lurched forward as the crew scrambled to prepare for the encounter. Kente felt his heartbeat quicken.