The air in the Black family compound usually smelled of cool air conditioning and fancy home perfume. Tonight, it was different. The scent of fried fish, spicy jollof rice, and the loud, happy sounds of family filled everything. Laughter spilled from the living room, mixing with the lively beats of a Fuji song playing on a big speaker. Tony stepped through the gate. His crisp school uniform, clean and neat, looked strange next to all the celebration noise. He saw his father's shiny Mercedes parked close to his uncle's older Toyota. Family members he hadn't seen in months, maybe years, packed every chair. Their faces glowed with a wild, happy feeling that seemed very far from the cold thoughts in his mind.
Then he saw him. Kene.
His cousin sat on the armrest of a soft sofa, a plate of rice on his lap. He had a wide, easy smile on his face. Kene looked thinner, sharper than Tony remembered. But that restless energy, that feeling of not knowing what he'd do next, was still there, buzzing under his skin. Tony's aunt, Kene's mother, fussed over him, wiping a little food from his cheek.
"Tony! My boy!" his own mother, Mama Nneka, cried out. She pulled him into a soft hug that smelled like sweet perfume. "You are just coming now? We don dey wait! Kene don show!"
Tony gave a polite, practiced smile. "Yes, Mama. School kept me. But I am here now." He nodded at his father, Papa Ejike, who sat deep in talk with an old uncle, sometimes waving his glass of juice. His parents, caught up in the polite family gathering, didn't really see how important Kene's return was. They just saw a cousin who used to be trouble, now "better."
Tony moved through the room, saying hello to people. His eyes kept finding Kene. Tony felt a deep, strong loyalty for his cousin. Kene was the one who first opened his eyes, who showed him the real, tough Warri beyond the fancy school and the rich house. Tony was proud of Kene. He was happy Kene was back to take his rightful place.
Soon, Kene caught Tony's eye. He lifted his chin, a silent sign for Tony to come. Tony moved easily through the busy room, saying "excuse me" to people. Kene stood up, nodded to some laughing cousins, and walked slowly towards the quiet veranda at the back of the house. Tony followed like a silent shadow.
The night air outside was heavy and hot. It carried the faraway sound of cars in Warri. Kene leaned against the railing. His face now looked serious, no longer wearing the happy party mask.
"How far, my guy?" Kene said, his voice low, a familiar street sound. He clapped Tony on the shoulder, a strong hand. "Dem say you don dey hold fort for me."
"I did what needed to be done, Kene," Tony answered, his voice calm, showing respect. "Everything just dey as you left am." Tony's loyalty to his cousin was complete; he truly believed Kene deserved to be in charge again.
Kene nodded. His eyes moved over the dark garden. "Good. Because something is shaking. Oraka Lane… those Red Scorpions, dey dey push hard." He turned. His eyes looked sharp in the dim light. "You know why Oraka Lane is so important, right? E no be just one street, Tony. Na the throat of our local network. All the movement, the small deliveries, the collections… everything passes through there. If dem cut am, we go bleed. And the cult, the Eiye Brotherhood, e see am as direct insult to our name, our territory. We put our mark there, and no one disrespects that."
Tony listened, his mind already adding Kene's words to his own information. Kene, the street boss, always thought about practical things, about tough control of the ground. "I heard a boy was hit there this morning," Tony confirmed, keeping his voice steady. "I sent some boys for intel."
Kene's eyes narrowed a little. Tony, because of his strong loyalty, didn't see the quick flash of something else in Kene's eyes. "Good. You are learning to think. But thinking no fit solve everything." Kene put his hand in his pocket. "I just got out, and they are already testing me. Testing us."
Just then, a boy came out of the deep shadows by the compound wall. He looked about fourteen, dressed in a faded football shirt, looking out of place and nervous. He moved quickly towards them. He reached Kene, breathing fast.
"Boss Kene! Na message from Small Boss!" the boy whispered. His eyes were wide with fear and urgency. "Him say make you call am sharp, sharp. And say make you no lose Oraka Lane. No matter what. Even if na blood. Him say Eiye no dey back down from nobody!"
Kene's jaw tightened. "Tell am say I don get the message. I go call am now, now." The boy nodded, then disappeared back into the darkness.
"You see?" Kene said, his voice a low growl, turning back to Tony. "This is not just about one street. This is about our reputation. Our power. Our name." He walked a few steps, his restless energy now close to anger. "This calls for a show of force. We hit them hard. Tomorrow night. Straight into Agbassa, we take it to them. Show them who owns Warri!"
Tony stepped forward. His strategic mind already said no to this wild idea. "Kene, we need more intel. Kunle, my tech boy, he just found out their leader is new, 'Scorpion Prince,' a transfer from Lagos. He uses social media to boast, and he has a small brother with a shop near Oraka Lane. We can use that. A direct assault… e too risky. We don't know their full numbers, their weapons, their fallback. We need to be surgical. Hit where it pains them most, not just a blind charge."
Kene stopped. He tilted his head a little. A very quick, unreadable look crossed his face. For a moment, he saw not a loyal helper, but a calculating mind, maybe too calculating, too free. He saw a hint of his own desire for power in Tony, and a subtle threat to his own power that he just got back. But Kene pushed the thought down deep inside, hiding it with a wave of his hand, as if dismissing it.
"Intelligence is good, Tony," Kene said, but his voice sounded impatient. "But fear is better. They hit our boy, they challenge our name. We send a message back. Fast. Loud. That's how you show power. That's how you get respect back when you just come back." He took out a worn phone, already dialing. "The Small Boss wants results, not long planning. We move."
Tony felt a cold knot in his stomach. He would obey. His loyalty was complete. But he knew, with a chilling certainty, that this impulsive plan, driven by Kene's need to show he was still boss, was exactly what the Red Scorpions might be hoping for.
The Scorpion's Lair: Planning the Sting
Meanwhile, in the dimly lit, smoke-filled space of a broken-down warehouse in Agbassa, far from the bright lights of the Black family compound, Kelvin, the self-proclaimed "Scorpion Prince," looked at his men. The air was thick with the smell of cheap weed and old beer. Kelvin was young, but his eyes held a cold, sharp look. His lean body showed a tight, ready energy. He tapped a file in his hand, a kind of folder with little bits of information, blurry photos, and quiet rumors about their enemies.
"Eiye Brotherhood. Dem think say dem still be kings for Warri," Kelvin said, his voice a low growl. "Dem dey soft. Fat from too much comfort. And their top boys… dem either dey hide or dem lock am up. We take what is ours."
A big, strong man with tribal marks on his face, who looked like Kelvin's main fighter, grunted. "Oraka Lane dey bleed. Dem no go let am go, Prince. Dem go come for us."
"Let them come!" Kelvin laughed, a harsh sound with no humor. He spread a rough map on a shaky table, pointing with a long, unlit cigarette. "We push here, hit one of their small boys, show a little bit of fight. Their old boss, Kene, him just come out from jail. He will be hungry to prove himself. He will be reckless. He will want a direct attack, a show of force, to get his lost glory back."
Kelvin's eyes gleamed in the dim light. "That's exactly what we want. We let them walk straight into our trap. We have our boys ready, our weapons ready. We hit them hard when dem least expect am, when dem think say dem get the element of surprise. And then, Oraka Lane… will be ours." He took a slow drag from his cigarette. The tip glowed red, showing the winning smile on his face. "Warri dey change. And the Red Scorpions… na we go change am."
Ripples Across Warri: Other Groups React
The news of Kene's release and the quick fight with the Red Scorpions didn't stay secret. Information, like the hot, wet air of Warri, spread to every hidden corner of the city's underworld.
The Black Axe Confraternity: Waiting for the Fall
In a dimly lit back room of a drinking spot called "The Haven" on Jakpa Road, far from the fancy school, a group of young men sat hunched over a chipped wooden table. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the sound of beer bottles clinking. They were members of the Black Axe Confraternity, another big and often enemy cult group. They were known for being smart and tough, and having deep connections.
Their leader, a lean, older man named Dogo, with eyes that missed nothing, listened closely as a younger "eye" (informer) finished his quiet report.
"...and so, Kene, from Eiye, him don show this morning. And immediately, him boys for Oraka Lane get hit by Red Scorpions. Word dey go say Kene vex like mad. Him don dey plan counter."
Dogo slowly lifted a bottle of Gulder beer to his lips, taking a long drink. "Kene," he finally mumbled, the name sounding like an old memory. "Hot-headed, always. This go be interesting." He put the bottle down gently. "Eiye dey make noise. Red Scorpions dey grow teeth. This is a good time for us, boys. While two dogs dey fight over one bone, a smarter dog go dey watch for the kill."
He turned to a sharp-faced helper. "Send word to our brothers in Enerhen. Tell dem to stay sharp. We watch. We no go move until we see who dey bleed properly. And then, we go in for the harvest." A grim smile spread across his face. "Warri is big enough for many, but only the smartest survive. And only the strongest take the spoils."
The Amazonian Sisters: Listening to the Whispers
Across town, in a small, secret hair salon in the busy area of Okumagba Avenue – a place that was a front for other, hidden operations – four young women gathered after closing time. The smell of hair products still filled the air a little, mixing with a sharper, metal smell from a small, hidden safe. These were the Amazonian Sisters, a strong female cult group known for gathering information, moving quietly, and sometimes taking revenge. They often worked from normal-looking businesses, their power spreading through gossip and social connections.
Their leader, Queen Amara, a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties with tightly braided hair and sharp, smart eyes, clicked off the radio. "Silence, ladies," she said, her voice soft but strong. She tapped a new text message on her phone.
"Word from the street," she announced, looking at her three helpers. "Kene, the Eiye Capo for Oraka Lane, him don come out. And his first day back, the Red Scorpions draw blood on his territory."
A younger woman, Blessing, made a sound of disgust. "Eiye and their never-ending drama. Always dey fight over dust."
"No," Amara replied, her eyes shining. "This one na different. Kene is known for being wild. And Red Scorpions are growing bolder. If dem push Eiye too hard, e go destabilize things for everybody. It means opportunity."
She pointed to one of the younger sisters. "Chika, you have cousins who visit the market near Oraka Lane, yes? Start dey listen. Who is buying more? Who is moving differently? We want to know every whisper about the Red Scorpions' movements, their suppliers. Especially around the old market in Agbassa. And Blessing, your contact at the hospital… any unusual admissions with cutlass wounds, especially from Oraka Lane or Agbassa, we need to know immediately."
Amara leaned back, a thinking smile on her lips. "While the boys dey bang their heads together, we go see who is truly weak. And then, we go make our move. The streets have secrets, and we, sisters, are the ones who truly know how to listen."