The humid Tanzanian night wrapped Masaki in a still, unsettling heavy silence that was unnaturally, only broken by the occasional whirr of insects and the distant hum of traffic rolling past Ali Hassan Mwinyi Road, Arman David crouched slightly as he stepped off the boda, slipping the rider a few notes, his eyes scanning every car and shadow, without lifting his hood, the shadows welcomed him, sweat clung to his back, not just from the heat but the pressure weighing on him.
"I have to get to Unit 43B ASAP" He muttered under his breath
The coordinates he had memorized earlier glowed in his mind like a target: -6.740556, 39.275000, an unassuming corner of Masaki Depot, nestled in the deeper recesses of the industrial sprawl, a forgotten warehouse, but tonight, it was a stage for something far larger than himself, this wasn't just a place, it was chosen.
The sea breeze drifted through the narrow streets, mixing salt with the metallic scent of the industrial zone ahead, it was just past 01 am, the neighbourhood around the depot was already winding down, a few fishermen gathered near the shore with crates, their voices low.
He turned left into the old access road that led to Masaki Depot, the streetlights flickered and died one after the other the further Arman David ventured from the main road
Each step brought him closer to the invisible corner of the world where his father's legacy still whispered through corrupted circuits and encrypted archives.
As he made his way down a narrow gravel path, he saw rust-stained shipping containers and stacks of oil drums, the unease inside him grew, a line of warehouse building stretched into the night, each one marked by fading numbers and peeling paint
He moved quietly along the perimeter, a ghost of a memory clawed at him, his father's voice, low and urgent, telling him one night at age ten "If anything happens to me, don't believe what they say, look beneath and you will always know the truth" at that time, he'd thought his father mean't politics, well now, he wasn't so sure.
"Ugh...where the fuck is Unit 43B" He cursed loudly
He had been wandering for nearly forty minutes, the address had been vague, Unit 43B was not where the map said it would be, he tried three different routes within the depot's perimeter, all dead ends, there was no clear path
He walked along the rear side of the compound, passing buildings covered in algae and rust, only to find nothing, What was this place? A forgotten substation? A ghost?
He stopped before a chain link fence and scanned his surroundings, No signs, No lights, all the buildings that he had had passed had numbers, 40, 41, 42, 44, but just couldn't find 43B, Where the hell was 43B?
He moved slowly, tracing the edge of a container yard, it was only when he crouched behind a pile of discarded shipping crates that he had noticed a strange glint behind thick vines, tucked behind a stack of rusted gas cylinders and two collapsed fence panels, was a structure smaller than the others, not quite a building, not quite a shed, half brick, half metal, barely larger than a store room,
The numbers were spray painted, nearly faded *43B*, barely noticeable to outsiders, it was almost invisible by design, the flickering bulb above the steel door stuttered like it was chocking on its own electricity, beside the door, a worn keypad blinked faint red, then green, then red again, he waited, no sound, the warehouse around him groaned in the night.
This was it, he checked his phone, no new messages, he raised his hand and knocked
Once..
Twice..
A pause
Nothing
Then... soft mechanical click, the door creaked-open half an inch, inside was darkness, he stepped in, the first thing he noticed was the smell which transported him, the scent of aging concrete, dust, sweat, machine oil and the faint tang of soldered circuits
The room was dimly lit by a lobe bulb overhead which revealed crates, tools, dismantled servers, scattered wires and old consoles stacked against the walls, It took a moment for his eyes to adjust,
A figure stepped from the shadows from the far side towards the center.
"Arman David" said a man in a gravelly voice "Or should I say... Its_cana?"
Arman tensed, the voice was deep, steady, accented but hard to place, the man stepped into the faint overhead light, maybe late forties, dark-skinned, a trimmed beard, wireframe glasses, a small scar beneath his left eye, weathered face, built like someone who once served in the military, wearing military boots, his jacket was stitched with an insignia of a defunct logistics firm, one that Arman remembered from an old business card his father once kept.
"Who are you?" Arman kept his guard from the moment he entered the room
"My name doesn't matter yet" the man replied "Took you long enough"
Arman stepped in "Someone made it impossible to find this place"
The man smirked, "If it was easy to find, It would already be compromised" he walked towards a certain corner "You weren't mean't to find it in the first place....only if you were desperate enough and thanks to it, here you are"
The man with a faded military trouser motioned towards him, he wasn't just a contact, he was a sentinel.
"I knew your father"
Arman straightened "How?"
"I am someone your father trusted, once, David Gonzalez and I worked together..." he paused, walked to the center of the room "Years ago, before everything, before the game, before the collapse"
"The Game??"
The man gave him a nod, "Let me show you something first"
He walked over to a dusty desk, pulled out a small battered portable projector and powered it, a static buzz, then the wall shimered as a grainy footage flickered to life.
In it, Arman's father, David Gonzalez, stood in a boardroom beside a younger version of the same man, they were reviewing files and blueprints, David spoke clearly "If this network is exposed, it could collapse the entire offshore chain"
The man paused the footage, " Your father wasn't just a logistics analyst, he built part of the world they tried to erase, and now you've reopened that door"
He then played another video, the place differed from the first one, David Gonzalez, stood in a server room, his back straight, eyes tired, he was already bearing the weight of someone carrying dangerous truths.
"If you're watching this, It means I failed to keep the system secure," the recording said, "Son...Arman, if you are listening, then things have moved much faster than I had anticipated and you are walking through the network they've been trying to erase for two decades"
It continued, "The fragments are waking, Arman, listen closely, MLBB was never just a game to me, it was a tool and now... (sigh) Im afraid that everything I've hidden in Mobile Legends is coming online."
Arman stared blankly, "He... he never told me any of his secrets"
"You're not here by chance " the man said, then continued "Someone made sure that USB stayed hidden until now"
"What do they want from me?"
"To finish what your father started, or to destroy it completely" he walked over to a crate and pulled out another device, a tablet locked with a biometric scanner.
"Do you know how many names your father used?" the man aaasked quietly
Arman shook his head
"David Gonzalez, David Marua, D.G and so many more, the man built an alias web so thick it fooled even interpol for years"
"Interpol as The International Police I hear in movies"
"Indeed"
"But why...why take such measures" Arman asked, his voice hoarse
"To hide the network, but hiding it wasn't enough, he encoded backups of it in fragments, in USBs like the one you found, that USB drive is just one link, they need all of them to complete the map"
The man continued, opening up a physical file containing surveillance photos, handwritten notes and redacted documents "Your father worked in logistics and cybernetics, but he also designed data obfuscation techniques, ways to hide massive quantities of information inside fast moving data streams"
"He hid information inside eSports, specifically, inside Mobile Legends tournaments, he used encrypted MLBB tournament servers to hide data fragments, he used a complex cipher embedded within data only a gamer would know how to read, think about it, while the world watched his games, he encoded secrets into frame timings, leaderboard code and map logs"
Arman was momentarily stunned, it was hard to believe that his father, the one that he knew from when he was little was the same one that they were talking about.
"eSports" the man continued "Real time data, massive audiences, constant packet exchanges, your father made them all his vaults to store his secrets, this was because it was perfect place, massively distributed, fast, nobody would suspect it"
A soft chuckle escaped Arman "He.. he taught me how to play, he said the jungle was about patience, exp was about endurance, mid awareness, gold about discipline and roam is all about sacrifices, I thought he was just being a nerdy dad"
"Well he wasn't, do you remember the first time?"
A brief silence, then... Yes
FLASHBACK...
David Gonzalez brought home an old tablet, sat beside a young version of Arman on the couch who was at that time playing Call Of Duty, he said to him "Let me show you something cool, its not just a game, think of it as a battlefield of ideas"
They played for hours, David showed him jungle patterns, wave control, even strategic hero picks "See this hero" David said, selecting a tank, "This guy can absorb damage but only if he's positioned right, thats how life is too, sometimes you're the shield"
"What about this one" Arman asked, pointing at a sleek marksman
"That's me," David chuckled,"Always shooting from the backlines"
They continued to play until when Arman won a match solo, David whispered, "Good, that's how you move unseen, even while the world watches"
"Baba, why MLBB, there are plenty of good games like PUBG also this game is very complex to understand" the young Arman asked, his father looked at him then smiled "Because it moves fast, and everyone underestimates what's hidden in plain sight"
PRESENT...
Arman exhaled, "So it started back then huh"
The man nodded, "And now its your move" the man opened a metal case, revealing another USB marked *DG-3*, "This links what you have found, DG-1 and DG-2 were trackers, but this, Its more than that, it holds blueprint sequences and surveillance archieves, dont plug it in without precautions, there are embedded security kernels that could corrupt your drive, or worse"
"It also holds one of the three master ciphers, the others are out there, buried in tournament replays, leaderboard anomalies, your current gameplay and your squad are triggering the algorithm's final phase with every livestream match played"
Arman's eyes narrowed "My squad???"
"The Ghost Knights, right?"
Arman tensed.
"Yes," the man confirmed, "And one of them is already monitoring for anomaly spikes during matches, the one you know as..." he opened a file, showing a profile: a girl with soft curls, deep eyes and a composed expression.
"...IGN: Foxxie."
"Foxxie??" Arman whispered, "That's..."
"Joyce"
Arman froze "Ho..How.. that cant be, Joyce is in the squad?"
"She's been your guardian shadow, she plays marksman in Ghost Knights, covers backline positions, quiet but deadly, she wasn't placed in the squad for fun, she's trained, her father worked with David, he knowledge of MLBB isn't fate, It's tactical."
Arman rubbed his temples,"But she didn't even know what EXP lane meant when we met, no, she didn't even know what MLBB is"
The man smirked, "Exactly, she was meant to stay invisible, her cover was vital, she knew your father too, not well but enough, her father was one of the last operatives protecting David's digital legacy"
"Though she played naive when you first met, her background in analytics and her father's history in competitive strategy meant she was natural fit for Ghost Knights, she was placed to observe... to protect, she's been keeping tabs longer than you know, and she's loyal to your father's cause"
Thunder rumbled faintly outside.
Arman stared at the USB in his hand, hesitant "What about the man who came into my house?"
The man's face darkened, "He was testing you, he wasn't meant to kill or hurt you, just to retrieve the first USB, but he acted outside orders, which means (sigh) someone else is in play"
Arman stood and asked "But why me... out of all people my father had contact with, why does it have to be ME?"
"Because you're your father's son, and he built this ring of network for people like you, smart, invinsible, online"
Outside, a black van screeched to a halt at the depot, two armed silhouettes poured out.
The man's tone shifted, "We're out of time, you have to leave... fast"
Before Arman could respond.....?
BANG
A gunfire erupted outside...
Glass shattered, the projector exploded in sparks.
"GET DOWN!!" The man shouted
Crates exploded besides them, Arman ducked, the Man rushed to the door, cracked it so as to have a look outside, the van's headlight cut through the fog like a blade casting monstrous shadows of metal crates and gas tanks, the man cursed "Shit, two agents, same van from Goba, they're here for the USB!" The man shouted from the door.
He burst open a side panel, "Quick, out the rear" he barked, he grabbed Arman's arm and shoved him towards a hidden back door, "Joyce is one of your remaining link now, meet her, she'll explain the next phase and tell you the other people in the ring"
Before Arman could protest, the man pulled him to the side hatch "Go now, RUN, go left" the man shouted.
Arman turned, ducked low, burst through the exit, he landed hard in the gravel, rolling instinctively as more gunfire cracked behind him, shards of glass rained from the broken warehouse window.
"Oh fuck, I never signed up for this" he cursed loudly as he stood up, not waiting for the man to give him a second order and hurriedly sprinted away