From the frying pan into the Scorching fire

It was still dark as the battered van rolled to a halt before a lavish, heavily guarded building.

Eazy, Zuri, Musa, JC, Juma, Shiro, and Ali were dragged out roughly, surrounded by armed men. From the outside they could see golden lights spilling out from the huge windows, security cameras panning over every inch of the grounds. The building itself was painted a brilliant gold.

Inside, the heavy doors creaked open to reveal a strange sight.

Before them, seated on the back of a kneeling man, was the gang leader himself — Zengo.

The man he used as a chair trembled slightly under his weight, sweat gleaming down his bare back. Zengo perched lazily on him, one leg crossed over the other, like a king on an unworthy throne.

Otis entered first, standing proudly next to his leader.

"Zengo," he said, his voice low and respectful. "They're here."

Zengo wore large black headphones over his ears, lazily humming along to a beat only he could hear. He looked half-drunk on his own importance.
Without warning, he tugged off the headphones, tossing them to the ground.

"Bring them in, Otis," he said, voice sharp now.

"Ingia!" Otis barked.

Eazy, Zuri, Musa, and JC were shoved into the center of the room, while the others were dragged away to another part of the mansion under heavy lock and key.
Juma struggled as they tried to haul him away, fighting to stay in the room. Juma and Zengo locked eyes intensely, his defiance burning brightly. One guard punched him in the face splitting his mouth as blood poured. Juma was eventually escorted out.

Zengo stood, stretching his arms as he swaggered toward them, his grin wide but cold.

"Aah, Ezekiel," he said warmly, clapping Eazy on the shoulder like an old friend.
"Zengo," Eazy chuckled uneasily. "If you wanted to meet, you could have just called me."

But Zengo was already turning toward Zuri, Musa, and JC, his smile fading.

"Who the hell are these youngbloods?"

"They're just my workers," Eazy said quickly. "They have nothing to do with this. Let them go and we can talk shop."

Zengo's playful mask dropped instantly. His goofy posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing into something predatory.

He was like a hyena who had spent too long pretending to be a lapdog.

The entire room tensed as he slowly turned toward Otis.

"Well...?"

Otis smirked slightly, then answered, "They're the geniuses who came up with the plan."

Zengo threw back his head and cackled for a long, uncomfortable minute.
The guards joined in — even the poor man he had been sitting on — laughing like a pack of hyenas tearing into fresh meat.

Then just as suddenly, Zengo snapped his fingers, and the room went deathly quiet.

"Hawa watoi?" he spat. "Tell me how you did it then?"

Without waiting, he plopped back down onto his "throne," the man grunting beneath him as his back bent further under Zengo's casual cruelty.

Zuri, Musa, and JC exchanged worried glances.
Eazy stayed calm — years of surviving in these violent circles had taught him how to mask fear. When none of them answered, Zengo's lazy smile twitched into a scowl. He turned toward Otis again.

Otis nodded grimly and stepped forward.

Without warning, he slapped Zuri across the face so hard she crashed to the floor. Musa lunged at Otis in fury, but Otis moved like a snake, slamming a fist into Musa’s chest so hard that he dropped to his knees gasping for air.

JC launched a roundhouse kick at Otis, quick and sharp, but Otis ducked, sidestepped, and swept JC’s legs out from under him with a brutal kick to the temple — knocking him out cold. Otis then turned back toward Zuri who was struggling to rise.

As he raised his hand again, Eazy stepped in, grabbing Otis’s wrist mid-air.

"Chill out, Otis," Eazy said calmly, voice steady. "We’re all friends here.”

He glanced at Zengo. “You have to forgive my workers — they're new. They don't understand the hierarchy yet."

Zengo smirked, amused. "Fine. Leave them."

"But Ezekiel," he said, his voice turning ice-cold, "they're on thin ice."

Eazy gave a small nod, hiding the growing pit in his stomach.
"Mind if I get a minute with my crew, Zengo? Explain the situation?"

"Go ahead," Zengo said, waving a dismissive hand as he leaned back onto the human chair, popping a grape into his mouth.

Eazy rushed to JC, dragging his semi-conscious body toward a gold-trimmed armchair tucked into a corner. JC groaned, starting to stir.

"Ow... what happened?" JC mumbled.

"Listen carefully," Eazy whispered sharply.
"We’ve been captured by…the First Blood.”

"But why?" JC asked, blinking in confusion.

"It’s about the heist, dumbass," Zuri said sharply, rubbing her bruised cheek. "You always claim to be from the streets, but you can’t even see what’s happening?”

JC turned toward Eazy who nodded grimly.

In 254, there were four main regions — Eastlands, Westlands, Southside, and Northside Although the country as a whole was under the leadership of Mheshimiwa Mtemi, each region was ruled by a criminal syndicate. Any illegal operation in a region needed the permission of its boss.

Eazy had known this. In fact, the day of the heist he was on his way to Zengo’s to inform him of the plan to steal the Kulindwa Necklace but after everything went sideways, he abandoned that plan — hoping they could slip away unnoticed.

They would have gotten away with it, too, if Otis hadn’t spotted them.

JC looked furious, breathing heavily. "Eazy, what can we do?!"

Eazy’s expression darkened.
"If we don’t answer Zengo’s questions the right way..."
He let the silence stretch, the unspoken threat heavier than words.

"…We’re dead."

FURTHER INFORMATION

Ingia – get in!

Hawa Watoi – these children

Mheshimiwa Mtemi- Read the Prologue