After a while, a skinny black man was brought in.
This black man sported a stubble and wore an expensive suit. He looked respectable but was abnormally thin. His eyes were dull and lifeless as if they were shrouded by a layer of fog.
However, Dlamini did not find the man's appearance strange at all. Of course, he knew what kind of person this man was. He was just a drug addict who had given up on his family.
As soon as he saw Dlamini, the black man suddenly looked fearful and excited. "E- Etor, I have good news for you!"
"Indell, do you have the money to pay me back?" Dlamini frowned. "Also, don't call me by my other name. We're not that close."
"Alright, Dlamini." The black man smiled awkwardly. "I know, I still owe you five million rand. But it's okay, I'm here with good news today."
"Alright, if the news you bring is really 'good news', I can consider giving you a few more days." Dlamini sneered.
"Just a few more days?" The middle-aged man shook his head and put on a mysterious expression. "This matter is related to your political future..."
As he spoke, the middle-aged man tried to get closer to Dlamini but was stopped by the bodyguard.
"Let him come here."
Dlamini waved his hand. After all, the man was a member of the Mandela family. As the 'First Family' of the Rainbow Nation, the man in front of him would not go so far as to act as a killer and attack him.
The middle-aged man walked to Dlamini's side and said in a low voice, "Dlamini, do you want my family's support?"
...
Two hours later.
Three black high-end cars approached from afar and finally stopped in front of a warehouse in Simon Town in the southern half of Cape Town.
"This is it."
Inside the car, the black man known as Indell rubbed his hands together excitedly. "Our family's representative is waiting for your arrival inside."
"You're serious?" Dlamini looked at the deserted landscape around him and immediately put on a wary expression. "Indell Mandela, you know the price of deceiving me, don't you? Even if you're 'his' descendant."
"Of course I know."
Indell said nonchalantly, "But because of our political enemies, we have no choice but to negotiate with you here. Besides, I'm right here. If anything goes wrong, you can hold me accountable immediately, can't you?"
Hearing this, Dlamini looked deeply into Indell's eyes before getting out of the car.
"Hiss …"
However, just as Indell lowered his head to get off the car, he suddenly sucked in a cold breath due to the pain from his wound.
Dlamini instinctively looked over and saw a short wound on the back of Indell's neck. However, it had been stitched up.
Not only that, but the stitches on the wound were extremely precise and could be said to be master-level skills.
"What happened to your neck?"
"My nape?" Indell forced a smile. His lips were pale from the pain. "I fell. I accidentally fell this morning..."
"That was a really heavy fall."
Dlamini did not ask any further questions. Instead, he gave several bodyguards a look. Two of them immediately stepped forward and opened the shutter door of the warehouse.
Instantly, a musty smell unique to abandoned warehouses wafted into the air.
"Your family is going to negotiate with me right here?" Seeing this, Dlamini's expression turned even uglier.
"Yes, Mr. Dlamini." However, just as everyone was feeling skeptical, a figure walked out of the warehouse.
The bodyguards instinctively raised their guns. It was only when the figure came closer that everyone realized that the figure was also a black man. Moreover, they were all very familiar with this man. He was the kind who often appeared on television.
Oliver Mandela, one of the more outstanding members of the Mandela family.
"Brother, where are aunt and the others? Are they all here?" Indell asked.
"Aunt and the others have been waiting inside for a long time." The man turned to look at him. "Mr. Dlamini, this way please."
Seeing that Oliver was here, Dlamini finally believed Indell's lies. He stepped into the warehouse first, followed by a group of bodyguards.
"Two of you, stand guard outside." Dlamini, who was cautious by nature, frowned. "Don't let everyone in."
"Yes." Only then did two of the bodyguards turn around and prepare to leave the warehouse.
However, it was then that something unexpected happened!
Boom!
There was a loud rumble behind them. The shutter gate lost control and fell down, sealing off the exit. At the same time, several cylindrical objects fell from the ceiling, making loud clanging noises!
"It's a stun grenade!"
One of the bodyguards exclaimed. Without hesitation, several of them pounced on the stun grenades, ready to block the aftermath of the explosion. However, even more stun grenades were thrown down from the roof!
They were unstoppable!
Boom boom boom boom boom!!!
It had only been five or six seconds since Dlamini stepped into the warehouse. A deafening sound rang out, accompanied by a blinding flash of magnesium light, causing everyone present to feel dizzy!
The bodyguards who had used their bodies to block the shockwave were knocked unconscious without even having the chance to make a sound!
In the midst of this explosion, Dlamini only had time to glare hatefully at Indell, who had also been knocked out by the shockwave, before he completely lost consciousness.
...
When Dlamini regained consciousness once more, he did not open his eyes immediately. Instead, he maintained his previous unconscious position and tried to sense his surroundings.
This kind of caution was the key to his current position.
Everything was normal. There was no sense of being tied up. The air around him was normal. He was not in a dark cellar.
He was lying on a bed which smelled damp. It seemed that the bed was rarely dried. There was no sound in the room. It was as if he was the only one in the room...
As he silently sensed his surroundings, Dlamini temporarily relaxed. It seemed that the situation was not at its worst yet.
However, he never expected that the two descendants of the Mandela family, Indell and Oliver, would plot against him in such a way. This was no longer a matter of caution...
However, the regret in his heart was buried in the very next moment. Now was not the time for regrets. Instead of regretting, he might as well find a way to escape from this place.
"Mr. Dlamini, I know you're awake."
However, before he could adjust his state of mind, an unfamiliar voice came from a position not too far away from him.
Sighing to himself, Dlamini opened his eyes helplessly, then immediately put his left hand in front of his eyes.
He seemed to be in a run-down hotel. The room was furnished in a standard hotel room. There was a bay window beside him, and outside the window was an empty suburb.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, blinding him.
After determining his location in an instant, Dlamini slowly sat up.
However, just as he propped himself up, he suddenly felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck.
Subconsciously, Dlamini reached out and touched it. He felt a wound that had already been stitched up.
In that instant, Dlamini recalled the wound on the back of Indell's neck...
"What did you do to me?" Taking a deep breath, Dlamini looked toward the source of the voice. He saw a man sitting on an empty bed next to him, staring at him silently.
The man had a slender figure, black hair, and black eyes. He wore a black trench coat and jeans, and the upper half of his face was covered by a half-face mask.
Through the mask, Dlamini could only see a pair of cold eyes that resembled black holes.
Dlamini was certain that it was an Asian face, and a very young one at that.
"It's nothing, just a small surgery for you."
The young man gestured with his thumb and index finger and slowly walked toward Dlamini. "Don't look around, this is still the suburbs of Cape Town."
Hearing this, Dlamini took another deep breath and said coldly, "Speak, since you've gone through so much trouble to bring me here, what do you want from me?"
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