The Almighty Garbage Collector: Reclaiming My Throne

The Legend on His Knees

The most feared mob boss in Lagos City stood completely still, his large hands trembling. Commander Okoro, a man who had ended dozens of lives without blinking, looked at me as if he were looking at a ghost. The cold pride in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by pure terror.

"Commander, what are you waiting for?" Babajide called out, stepping forward with an impatient frown. "I paid your syndicate a fortune this month. I told you to break this garbage collector's limbs! Why are you just standing there staring at him? Move your men and crush him right now!"

Commander Okoro did not move a single inch toward me. Instead, a heavy sweat broke out across his scarred forehead. He could feel the invisible weight of the Dragon Bloodline filling the entire room. To an ordinary person like Ronke or Babajide, it just felt like the room had become very heavy. But to a master of ancient martial arts like Okoro, it felt like standing before a god.

"Shut up," Okoro said. His voice was low, but it contained a deep tremor that shocked his own men.

"What did you say?" Babajide asked, his eyes widening in confusion. "Do you know who you are talking to? My father can destroy your entire syndicate by tomorrow morning! I am the one giving the orders here!"

Okoro did not listen to another word. He turned around and drove his fist directly into the stomach of his nearest bodyguard. The giant man flew backward, smashing into a display desk.

"Drop your weapons!" Okoro ordered his hundred armed men, his voice shaking the glass windows. "Every single one of you, put your guns on the floor right now! If anyone even looks at this man incorrectly, I will personally end your life before you can blink!"

The thugs looked at each other in total confusion, but they did not dare to disobey their commander. A loud clattering sound filled the showroom as a hundred heavy firearms and metal pipes hit the marble floor.

Ronke covered her mouth, stepping back until she bumped into a tire. She looked at me, then at the hundred armed men who were now disarmed, and her mind completely broke. This was the most dangerous gang in the city, a faction that even the politicians feared. Why were they dropping their weapons for a guy who spent his mornings loading trash into a truck?

Before anyone could say another word, Commander Okoro turned back to face me. He did not hesitate. He violently slammed his knees into the hard marble floor, bowing his head until his forehead touched the muddy water near my bare feet.

"Disciple Okoro greets the True Ancestor!" the mob boss stated, his voice filled with total submission. "I did not know the Young Master of the Vance lineage was alive. My secret martial arts sect swore a blood oath centuries ago to serve your ancestors. I have committed a massive crime by bringing weapons into your presence. Please, give me my punishment!

I looked down at the legendary killer bowing before me. The Scavenger System flashed a clear green text in my mind.

[System Notification: Commander Okoro’s martial arts faction is a low-level branch of your ancient family. His loyalty is confirmed at 100%. The target Babajide’s defense wall is completely broken.]

"Get up," I said calmly.

Okoro lifted his head, his face pale, but he remained on his knees, waiting for my permission to stand.

Babajide took three steps backward, his phone slipping from his hand and cracking against the floor. His Fake Villain System was screaming warnings inside his own head, but he could do nothing to stop it. The stolen luck he had used to build his family's empire was rapidly melting away.

"This cannot be happening," Babajide muttered, his voice full of real panic. "The Vance family is just a normal name. You are a poor orphan! Your sister is dying! You are supposed to be nothing!"

"The only reason my sister was dying is that you were stealing her life," I said, walking slowly toward him. Every step I took made the air in the room feel tighter. "Your wealth, your expensive cars, your suits, they all belong to my family. You are the real thief here."

Ronke crawled backward on the floor, trying to distance herself from Babajide. She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes, realizing she had traded a literal king for a fake billionaire who was about to lose everything. She opened her mouth to beg again, but the words caught in her throat when she saw the coldness in my eyes.

Suddenly, a loud, deafening roar shook the entire building. The glass roof of the luxury dealership vibrated so violently that small cracks began to appear in the corners. Outside, the heavy rain was suddenly pushed aside by a massive force.

I looked through the windows. A huge fleet of stealth black military-grade luxury helicopters was descending from the dark sky, their searchlights blinding the streets of Lagos. They completely blocked the entire road, forcing the remaining gang vehicles to scatter.

The main helicopter landed right in the center of the intersection outside Apex Motors. The side door flew open, and a line of elite soldiers in black uniforms marched out, forming a perfect pathway.

A woman stepped out of the aircraft. She wore a sharp, midnight-blue designer suit, and her dark hair was pulled back perfectly. It was Ms. Alabi, the top female billionaire CEO whose face I had just seen on the television screen. She was the absolute ruler of the global economy, a woman who manipulated entire nations with her wealth.

She did not look at the storm or the soldiers. Her cold, sharp eyes looked straight through the glass doors of the dealership, locking onto my face. She marched toward the building with long, confident steps, surrounded by her security detail.

The front doors were pulled open by her guards, and Ms. Alabi walked into the ruined showroom. She ignored Babajide, she ignored Ronke, and she ignored the hundred thugs on the floor. She walked straight to me, stopped exactly one pace away, and bowed her body at a perfect ninety-degree angle.

"Young Master Tunde!" Ms. Alabi announced, her powerful voice echoing through the silent hall. "Your true family has finally tracked your bloodline signature. The global consortium has been waiting for your return for twelve years. I am here to deliver a message from the elders: your revenge can now begin.

Before I could answer her, Babajide pulled a small, silver tracking device from his inner pocket and pointed it straight at Ms. Alabi’s chest. The device began to beep with a dangerous, high-pitched frequency.