Chapter 03

Chapter 03

The Decision

Obrimpong did not run home in panic.

He walked.

By the time he reached their compound, his breathing had slowed, his steps measured. Fear was still there, but it sat beneath something stronger—focus. Master Crox’s words echoed in his head: Control your breath. Control yourself.

His mother was in the kitchen, the radio turned up as she stirred a pot. Obrimpong slipped past the doorway, careful not to let the floor creak.

“Obrimpong?” she called absentmindedly.

“Yes, Ma,” he answered from the corridor, steady enough to sound normal.

“That’s good,” she said. “Go and do your homework first.”

He did not hesitate. He went straight into his brother Kwesi’s room.

Kwesi was away at university, and his room smelled faintly of dust and cologne. On the desk sat the laptop—old but powerful, its charger permanently plugged in. Obrimpong closed the door gently and sat.

For a moment, his hands hovered over the keyboard.

Then he remembered the flash of black gloves. The van door sliding open. The bag.

Kojo’s bag.

He had seen it clearly. Kojo’s school bag had been thrown into the back of the vehicle, the zip half-open, the corner of his phone visible inside.

Obrimpong powered on the laptop.

The screen glowed softly as he logged in. His fingers moved faster than he expected, muscle memory taking over from curiosity and half-forgotten lessons he had picked up watching his brother. He opened the phone-tracking app.

Searching…

His heart thumped.

Then the dot appeared.

Alive. Moving.

“Got you,” he whispered.

The location was unfamiliar—an industrial area on the edge of town, far from the main roads. He zoomed in, memorizing turns, landmarks, distances. The dot stopped moving.

They weren’t far.

Obrimpong leaned back, staring at the ceiling. This was the moment. The one people talked about later. The point where you either waited for someone else… or you acted.

He shut the laptop.

He went to his room and pulled out his black jacket. The hood felt heavier than it should, like a promise. He slipped his hands into the pockets, checking what he had—nothing yet.

That would change.

After waiting for her mother to enter her room, he entered the kitchen.

The pepper sat on the counter, bright red and innocent-looking. Obrimpong worked quickly, adding to it salt, oil, and vinegar, eyes stinging as the fumes rose. He separated the mixture and wrapped it in plastic reserving half of its volume empty with air. Crude. Dangerous.

Effective.

Pepper bomb ready.

He tested the weight in his palm.

“Don’t hesitate,” Master Crox had said once. “Hesitation is permission.”

Obrimpong nodded to himself.

Outside, he grabbed his mother’s phone which was idly lying on the centre table of the living room and ordered a ride.

Before speaking, he activated the voice-masking software on his mother’s phone. When he talked, the voice that came out was older—calm, confident.

“Hello,” the voice said. “Please pick my son. Take him to this location.”

The driver hesitated. “Your son?”

“Yes. I’m busy. Just drop him there.”

The ride was accepted and prepaid.

Obrimpong slid into the back seat, pulling his hood low. The city passed by in blurs of light and shadow. He memorized the route anyway.

When they arrived, the driver slowed, frowning. “Is this the place?”

“Yes,” the masked voice replied.

The car stopped. Obrimpong opened the door.

The driver glanced around. “No one is here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll wait for her,” Obrimpong said, already stepping out.

Before the driver could say more, his phone chimed—a new request. He shook his head, pulled away, and drove off.

Obrimpong stood alone.

The building loomed ahead, quiet and fenced, its windows dark. Obrimpong crouched behind a stack of crates, scanning. No guards in sight. No noise.

He tightened his grip on his bag.

This wasn’t training anymore.

This was real.

And as he found the loose section of fence and slipped through, Obrimpong Kesse crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.