It was Monday morning in Lagos—the kind of morning where NEPA forgot they had customers and every okada rider thought he was Vin Diesel. Jide Ajayi woke up with a migraine and a dying phone battery. "Omo, even the phone sef know say this week go mad," he grumbled.
He was supposed to be mourning his brother, running a cartel, and hunting a traitor. But instead, he found himself dodging calls from five baby mamas and his tailor—who had been promising his agbada "since April."
At the Haven Cartel's unofficial HQ (a suspiciously renovated car wash), the "council" was gathered again.
Wura was late. As usual. She sauntered in, sipping zobo with confidence only a smuggler with diplomatic immunity could afford. Dimeji, who only spoke during earthquakes, was chewing chin chin like his jaw had beef with flour. And Shanks… well, Shanks was high. Again.
Mole matter still dey ground," Jide began.
"Mole ke?" Shanks blurted. "You sure say no be rat?"
Everyone ignored him.
Jide pressed a button. A screen lit up—photos from the flash drive Mama Zee had dropped. Freeze-frame. Zoom. Enhance. Pause.
It was a butt crack.
"Who wear sagging for secret mission?" Wura said, nearly choking on her zobo. "This one no get training!"
But that tattoo…" Jide muttered.
The group leaned in. There it was: a small, faded tribal tattoo on the mole's lower back. Instantly, Wura screamed.
"Ah! Na Small Baddo!"
"Who be Small Baddo?" Jide asked.
Wura rolled her eyes. "Our former dispatch rider. The one we sent to deliver rice and accidentally trafficked ten iPhones to Ghana."
"Ehn? That one wey dey always dance legwork even when we dey plan attack?"
"Yes now!"
Jide rubbed his face. "This is who betrayed Tunde? Small Baddo?!"
Just then, the door burst open. Mama Zee stormed in, holding a hot puff-puff and a USB cable. "I found something juicier."
Everyone turned.
"Apparently… Small Baddo has a TikTok. And he's been live-streaming cartel moves with voiceovers."
Silence.
Then Wura coughed. "No wonder our enemies dey find us sharp sharp."
Jide slumped into his chair. "So, the mole is a TikTok influencer."
Mama Zee nodded.
Shanks laughed. "Omo, delete am."
Jide stood, eyes gleaming. "No. We'll use him."
Everyone stared.
He grinned. "Let's make him go viral… for the wrong reasons."