Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
Shortly after, a frail black man who was all skin and bones was brought in.
The black man had stubble on his chin and wore an expensive suit. Apart from his unordinary skinny physique, he looked pretty average. His eyes seemed to express zero emotions with what seemed like a layer of mist cast over them.
However, Dlamini seemed to be completely unfazed by the man’s appearance. He was well aware of the nature of this man before him. He was a drug addict whose family had long given up on him.
Upon seeing Dlamini, the black man suddenly displayed an expression that was a mixture of fright and excitement. “E, Etor, I have some good news for you!”
“Indell, have you got the money to settle your debt?” Dlamini frowned. “Also, don’t address me by my other name, we’re not that close.”
“Okay, Dlamini.” The black man smiled awkwardly. “I know, I still owe you five million rands. But nevermind that, I came here with good news today.”
“Very well, if the news you bring is truly a ‘good news’ then maybe I’ll consider being gracious with you for a few more days,” Dlamini said with a sneer.
“Just a few days?” The middle-aged man shook his head with an intriguing look upon his face. “This news concerns the future of your political career...”
As the man spoke, he tried to approach Dlamini but his advance was obstructed by the bodyguards.
“Let him come.”
Dlamini gestured with a wave of his hand. After all, the man was a member of the Mandela family. As the “first family” of the Rainbow Nation, he doubted the man before him would try to bring him any harm.
The middle-aged man came beside Dlamini and spoke with a hushed voice, “Dlamini, do you want the support of my family?”
...
Two hours later.
Three high-end vehicles clad in black approached from a distance before finally coming to a stop in front of a warehouse located in Simon Town, South Peninsula of Cape Town.
“This is the place.”
Inside the car, the black man known as Indell rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Our family’s representative is waiting for you inside.”
“Are you serious?” Dlamini looked at the barren wasteland before him and shot up with caution. “Indell Mandela, I’m sure you’re well aware of what happens if you lie to me. Even if you are ‘his’ descendant.”
“Of course, I’m aware.”
Indell seemed to be unconcerned. “However, due to our political enemies, we can only have this discussion with you here. Besides, I’m right here. If anything goes wrong, you can question me right on the spot, no?”
After listening to his remark, Dlamini shot a profound glance at Indell before getting out of the car.
“Tss...”
However, when Indell ducked his head to get out of the car, he abruptly hissed in a manner similar to the sound one would make upon upsetting a wound.
Dlamini instinctively looked over and noticed a short wound on the back of Indell’s neck that had been stitched up.
Not only that, the stitching on the wound was extremely precise as if it was the work of a master.
“What’s wrong with the back of your neck?”
“Back of my neck?” Indell mustered a smile, the color of his lips seemed to have been drained away by the pain. “It’s from a fall, I accidentally fell this morning.”
“Must’ve been a nasty fall.”
Dlamini did not continue prying further but he did shoot a look at several bodyguards. Two bodyguards immediately walked ahead and opened the shutter gates of the warehouse.
Suddenly, a horrible stench unique to a long-abandoned warehouse poured over them.
“Your family plans to negotiate with me here?” When Dlamini beheld the scene, his expression became grimmer.
“Yes, Mr. Dlamini.” While everyone was still perplexed by what was going on, a figure suddenly emerged from inside the warehouse.
Several bodyguards instinctively pointed at the figure with the barrel of their guns. It was only when the figure approached closer that they realized the figure belonged to a black man as well. In addition, this was a man they were all familiar with, a man who frequently appeared on television.
Oliver Mandela, one of the more prominent members of the descendants of the Mandela family.
“Brother, where are Aunt and the others? Are they all here?” Indell motioned inside.
“Aunt and the others have been waiting inside for a long time.” The man looked over. “Mr. Dlamini, please.”
Upon seeing Oliver making his appearance, Dlamini finally became convinced of Indell’s ramblings. He led the way and stepped into the warehouse. The host of bodyguards followed suit right after.
“Two of you stand guard outside.” Dlamini, who was always cautious frowned. “Don’t have everyone come in together.”
“Yes.” Two of the bodyguards turned around to head outside.
At this moment, an unprecedented event transpired!
“Bang!”
An abrupt burst of a deafening crash came from behind. The shutter door lost control and collapsed onto the ground violently, blocking the way out. At the same time, strange objects shaped like rollers fell from the ceiling and produced screeching dings and dongs as they hit the ground!
“Stun grenades!”
One of the bodyguards cried out. Without sparing a moment’s thought, several bodyguards leaped in front of the stun grenade to minimize the impact of the blast. However, more stun grenades came down from the ceiling above!
There was no way to stop all of them!
“Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!!!”
It had been no less than six seconds ever since Dlamini had stepped into the warehouse. Enormous, ear-shattering blasts accompanied by blinding sparks came directly after. Every single one of them was greatly affected by the tremor of the stun grenades!
The bodyguards who had attempted to use their body to shield the shockwave could barely hold themselves together and collapsed!
Amid the explosion, Dlamini shot a wrathful glance at Indell who was similarly affected by the shockwaves before passing out himself as well.
...
When Dlamini came to his senses again, he did not open his eyes immediately. Instead, he tried to get a sense of his surroundings in his state of daze.
This sort of cautious approach was one of the crucial factors which led to him getting to where he was today.
It appeared that he did not suffer any form of injuries nor did he feel like he was being bound. The air felt normal. It seemed like he was not locked into some sort of dim dungeon.
He found himself on a mattress oozing a humid stench and there seemed to be very little sunlight where he was. There were no other sounds in the room. It appeared that he was the only person in the room at this moment...
After getting a better sense of his surroundings, Dlamini finally allowed himself to relax a little. It would seem that the worst had not occurred yet.
Never in his life would he had ever expected Indell and Oliver, the two descendants of the Mandela family to set him up like this. Any amount of caution could not have prevented this...
However, he quickly cast any form of regret into the deepest depths of his heart. This was not the time for regrets. Instead of wasting time crying over spilled milk, he would rather find some way to escape from this wretched place.
“Mr. Dlamini, I know you’re awake.”
However, before he could further compose himself, he heard an unfamiliar voice coming from a short distance away.
Dlamini sighed silently before unwillingly opening his eyes. He then immediately shielded his eyes with his left arm.
He appeared to be in the room of an old, abandoned hotel. The room was decorated like the standard hotel you would come to expect. To his side was a bay window looking over the empty suburbs.
Glaring beams of sunlight came in from outside the window which hindered him from completely opening his eyes.
After quickly getting a sense of where he was at, Dlamini slowly got up.
However, the moment he held himself up, he felt a sharp bite of pain at the back of his neck.
Dlamini subconsciously reached out and touched where he felt the bite. He felt his fingers tracing a stitched wound.
In this instant, Dlamini recalled the wound he saw on the back of Indell’s neck...
“What have you done to me?” Dlamini took a deep breath and looked toward the direction where the voice came from. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a man sitting on the vacant mattress beside him. The man was looking at him quietly.
The man was of a slender build. He had dark eyes and a coat of dark hair. He wore a black trench coat with a pair of jeans and covered the upper half of his face with a mask.
All Dlamini could see was two empty pits like blackholes staring back at him.
Dlamini was certain that this man was an Asian. Also, he was very young.
“Not much, just performed a little operation on you.”
The young man made a gesture with his thumb and index finger before slowly walking in front of Dlamini. “No need to keep looking around, we’re still in the suburbs of Cape Town.”
Dlamini took another deep breath and spoke sullenly, “Spill it. Since you went through all the effort of taking me here, what do you want from me?”