The night was thick with mist as Ochieng's convoy moved through the city. Eight black SUVs, each bearing unique number plates that signified dominion over different provinces, cut through the streets like silent shadows. The world didn't know it yet, but the tides had already shifted.
Inside the lead SUV, Ochieng sat back, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest. Across from him, Tielen poured a glass of whiskey, his expression one of quiet amusement.
"You just took down the Zhao Syndicate," Tielen remarked. "That was the last major block standing in our way. What's next?"
Ochieng took the glass but didn't drink. His gaze drifted to the city lights outside the tinted windows. There was something almost melancholic in his eyes, a weight no one else could carry.
"The grand gala is in three days," he murmured. "Every major figure from the eight provinces will be there. That's where the real game begins."
Tielen chuckled. "A party?" He swirled his drink. "Didn't take you for a man who enjoyed social events."
Ochieng gave him a glance. "It's not about enjoyment." He set the glass down. "It's about making a statement."
Tielen's smirk faded. He understood. Ochieng never did anything without purpose.
—
Meanwhile, at Eastwood University, the atmosphere was entirely different. Students bustled about, drowning in assignments, relationships, and the endless cycle of mockery and admiration.
Lena Wang, the campus queen, strutted through the corridors, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. She thrived on attention, yet there was one person whose reaction she desperately craved—Ochieng.
Yet, he remained an enigma.
Ochieng was a mere "poor student" to most—a quiet presence in lectures, always at the back, always unnoticed. His clothes were simple, his demeanor unassuming.
But Lena had seen glimpses—the way the Dean showed him silent respect, the strange men who sometimes appeared near him, the way no one dared cross him directly.
Tonight was the class party, an event meant for fun and socializing.
For Lena, it was an opportunity.
For Ochieng, it was a mere distraction.
—
As the music blared in the lavishly decorated hall, students danced, laughed, and indulged. Ochieng sat quietly in a corner, watching. He had no interest in the petty rivalries or shallow romances.
Lena approached, a confident smile on her lips. "You're always so distant," she teased. "Why don't you enjoy yourself?"
Ochieng barely looked at her. "I don't do pointless things."
Lena's smile faltered for just a second before she regained her composure. "Well, tonight might not be pointless. There's something you should know—"
Before she could finish, the doors slammed open.
A man in a dark suit walked in, followed by several others. The entire hall fell silent.
Ochieng didn't move.
The man's eyes scanned the room before landing on him. He bowed slightly.
"Sir, everything is ready for your arrival at the gala."
A stunned silence followed. Gasps echoed.
Lena's eyes widened. "Sir?"
The campus "nobody" sat there, utterly unfazed, as his true identity began to unravel before their very eyes.