The first trap Bamidele showed Kade was a bottle of water.
Kade stared at it.
Then at Bamidele.
Then back at the bottle.
"Is this a joke?"
"No."
"Because if you’re planning to drown me, I’d like to remind you that I still owe you eighteen thousand naira."
Tobi nodded from his chair.
"Financially speaking, killing him would be irresponsible."
Bamidele ignored them.
The bottle stood on a wooden table in Mama Efe’s clinic. Half-full. Ordinary plastic. Its label had peeled away on one side.
"Tell me what’s wrong with it," Bamidele said.
Kade activated NIGHT SIGHT.
Nothing.
He concentrated.
A faint amber residue clung to the bottle’s neck.
"There’s Ase on it."
"Good."
Kade opened ANALYZE.
[TARGET: RESIDUAL SPIRITUAL ENERGY]
[ENERGY TYPE: ASE]
[CURRENT STATE: STABLE]
[FUNCTION: UNDETERMINED]
Kade frowned.
"Did you reinforce it?"
"Maybe."
"Did you make it dangerous?"
"Maybe."
"You’re enjoying this."
"Very much."
Kade studied the bottle.
The energy was concentrated around the cap.
He considered picking it up.
Then stopped.
"How do I know touching it won’t activate something?"
Bamidele smiled.
"Exactly."
Tobi leaned forward.
"So the lesson is don’t drink water?"
"The lesson," Bamidele replied, "is that recognizing spiritual energy doesn’t tell you what someone intends to do with it."
Kade nodded slowly.
He had nearly made that mistake at the shrine.
And again when the hunter’s filament struck his sleeve.
Seeing something wasn’t the same as understanding it.
"What’s actually wrong with the bottle?" he asked.
"Nothing dangerous."
Bamidele unscrewed the cap.
A faint amber glow faded.
"I reinforced the plastic around the opening. That’s all."
Kade looked offended.
"So there was no trap?"
"There could have been."
"That’s a terrible lesson."
"Would you prefer I set a real one?"
"No, thank you."
The second exercise was harder.
Bamidele placed three washers on the table.
"One carries residual Ase. One has been reinforced. One is ordinary."
Kade studied them with NIGHT SIGHT.
Two glowed faintly.
He pointed to the third.
"Ordinary."
"Correct."
He examined the remaining pair.
One had a concentrated glow around its edge.
The other carried a diffuse spiritual trace.
"That one is reinforced," Kade said.
Bamidele nodded.
"And the other?"
"Residual energy."
"Good."
Tobi applauded.
"Congratulations. You’ve qualified to inspect suspicious hardware."
Kade bowed from his chair.
"Thank you. My family is proud."
Bamidele collected the washers.
"Now tell me what happens if someone hides the energy."
Kade stopped smiling.
"Concealment?"
"Yes."
"Then NIGHT SIGHT might not show it."
"Correct."
"And ANALYZE?"
"Your System may tell you more than I can, but you already know it has limits."
Kade looked down.
The interface hadn’t appeared.
It didn’t answer every question.
And it certainly didn’t guarantee safety.
Bamidele leaned against the table.
"Remember something. A weak cultivator can survive a stronger opponent by understanding the situation. But understanding isn’t the same as winning."
Kade nodded.
"Sometimes the correct answer is leaving."
Tobi raised both hands.
"Finally. My philosophy receives academic recognition."
By noon, Kade’s ankle was aching.
Mama Efe ended the lesson.
"No more standing today."
"I barely stood."
"Then you’ll find resting very easy."
Kade returned to his bed.
Tobi sat beside him, scrolling through messages.
"Kunle says he’s moved the folder."
Kade looked up sharply.
"Where?"
"He didn’t say."
"Good."
"He also says Mr Bello called twice."
"Did Kunle answer?"
"No."
Kade exhaled.
Then Tobi frowned.
"There’s another message."
"From Kunle?"
"Yes."
He read aloud.
"’I checked the storage receipt against my father’s old ledger. The payment was recorded, but the reference number isn’t in the usual format.’"
Kade sat straighter.
"What does that mean?"
Tobi continued reading.
"’Dad normally used a property number followed by a month and year. This one doesn’t match.’"
Kade reached for his notebook.
17 / 04 / 06 — C.
The code had appeared on the graduation programme.
And on a receipt associated with the name Akin.
Now Kunle was saying it didn’t follow the landlord’s normal system.
That suggested the reference might have come from someone else.
It didn’t explain who.
"Ask him whether his father wrote the receipt," Kade said.
Tobi typed.
Several minutes passed.
Then Kunle replied.
Can’t confirm. Signature looks like Dad’s, but the handwriting on the receipt is different from his usual writing.
Kade frowned.
"Could someone else have prepared it?"
"That’s what Kunle thinks."
"Ask if his father employed anyone."
Tobi sent the question.
The reply came quickly.
No regular staff. Sometimes my mother helped with paperwork.
Kade leaned back.
Another possibility.
Another person to ask.
But before Tobi could type again, his phone rang.
Kunle.
"There’s a problem," Kunle said.
Kade’s stomach tightened.
"What happened?"
"Someone came to the house."
"Mr Bello?"
"No."
"Who?"
"A woman."
Kade looked toward Bamidele.
"Did she identify herself?"
"She said her name was Mrs Akinwale."
Silence.
Tobi mouthed the surname.
Kade nodded.
"Did she claim to represent the Trust?"
"No."
"Then what did she want?"
Kunle hesitated.
"She asked whether I’d found a brown envelope."
Kade went still.
"The sealed one?"
"Yes."
"Did she describe it?"
"Not exactly. She said it was something my father had no right to keep."
Kade gripped the phone.
"Did she show identification?"
"No."
"Did you let her inside?"
"No. We spoke through the gate."
"Good."
Kunle exhaled.
"She was an older woman. Maybe in her sixties. Well dressed. She didn’t threaten me."
"What did she say?"
"That the envelope was never meant to reach its recipient."
Kade stared at the wall.
That matched the old delivery note.
Recipient declined.
Do not attempt delivery again.
But why would someone now want the envelope returned?
"Did she say who sent it?" Kade asked.
"No."
"Who it belonged to?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Kunle’s voice lowered.
"She said keeping it could cause trouble for people who had nothing to do with the original disagreement."
Tobi’s expression darkened.
"That sounds like a threat," he muttered.
Kunle heard him.
"That’s what I thought."
Kade took a breath.
"Where is the envelope now?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Has anyone opened it?"
"No."
"Please keep it that way."
"I intend to."
A pause.
Then Kunle added, "She left a number."
Kade frowned.
"Another card?"
"No. She wrote it on ordinary paper."
"Any symbol?"
"None."
"Did she mention the Seven Houses?"
"No."
Kade looked toward Bamidele.
The repairman shook his head slightly.
Another claimant.
Another person asserting authority over something they wouldn’t explain.
"Don’t contact her yet," Kade said.
Kunle gave a tired laugh.
"Believe me, I’m beginning to regret opening that filing cabinet."
After the call, nobody spoke for a while.
Then Tobi broke the silence. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
"How many people want this envelope?"
"At least two parties have asked about the records," Kade replied. "One specifically asked about the envelope."
"Wonderful."
Bamidele folded his arms.
"Don’t assume they’re enemies."
Kade looked at him.
"I’m not."
"Or allies."
"I’m not doing that either."
"Good."
Tobi raised a hand.
"Can we assume they’re annoying?"
"That," Kade said, "is established fact."
Mama Efe entered carrying a tray.
"What’s established?"
"That rich people have too much free time."
She placed the tray on the table.
"Eat."
Kade obeyed.
But his mind remained on the envelope.
Adunni had refused it.
At least, that was what the delivery record suggested.
Someone had preserved it anyway.
Now different people were searching for it.
Why?
That evening, Kade made a decision.
"We’re not going to Kunle’s house."
Tobi looked up.
"Really?"
"Not while strangers are visiting him."
"So what do we do?"
"We let him keep the documents. We ask for copies of the ordinary records when it’s safe. And we stop treating that envelope like it’s worth someone’s life."
Tobi studied him.
"That’s surprisingly sensible."
"I have moments."
"Rare ones."
Kade smiled.
Then his expression grew serious.
"We’ve been reacting to whoever contacts us. Every time someone mentions a new clue, we chase it."
"True."
"That’s how we ended up at the shrine."
"And nearly got killed by a man with invisible fishing line."
"Exactly."
Kade opened his notebook.
He wrote three words.
WHAT CAN WE CONTROL?
Tobi leaned closer.
"Our location?"
"Sometimes."
"Who we trust?"
"To a point."
"Whether we answer strange calls?"
"Definitely."
Tobi nodded.
"That’s going to save me airtime."
Kade continued writing.
They couldn’t control who wanted the envelope.
They couldn’t control what the Seven Houses knew.
But they could control how much information they volunteered.
And they could stop walking blindly into places chosen by strangers.
The message arrived at 8:42 p.m.
Not on Tobi’s phone.
On Adunni’s locked phone.
The screen illuminated beside Kade’s notebook.
UNKNOWN SENDER
YOU ARE ASKING THE WRONG QUESTIONS.
Kade stared.
Another message followed.
THE ENVELOPE IS NOT WHAT THEY WANT.
Tobi leaned closer.
"What does that mean?"
Kade didn’t answer.
The third message appeared.
THEY WANT THE PERSON WHO CAN OPEN IT.
Kade felt his heartbeat quicken.
He looked at Bamidele.
"Could an envelope require spiritual energy to open?"
The repairman frowned.
"Some sealed objects can be restricted. But we don’t know whether this one is."
Kade looked back at the screen.
A fourth message appeared.
AND THEY THINK THAT PERSON IS YOU.
Silence.
Tobi swallowed.
"That’s not good."
Kade stared at the words.
The sender knew about the envelope.
Or wanted him to believe they did.
Either way, the message had arrived at exactly the moment it could influence his decision.
He remembered the lesson with the water bottle.
Recognizing something unusual didn’t mean understanding its purpose.
And being told where a trap was didn’t mean the warning itself was safe.
Kade turned the phone face down.
"We’re not opening anything."
Tobi blinked.
"Even if it belongs to your mother?"
"Especially then."
He looked toward the window.
Outside, Lagos continued its evening routine.
Generators hummed.
Traffic crawled.
Someone argued over the price of fuel.
Ordinary life carried on, unaware of the invisible struggles taking place beside it.
Kade lowered his gaze to the notebook.
The mysterious sender had given him a new possibility.
Not a fact.
Not proof.
A possibility.
And until he could test it, that was all it would remain.