The forest was alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls, the kind of place where the air felt heavy with mystery. Junior trudged through the underbrush, his boots sinking into the soft, damp earth. He had been tracking a group of kidnappers for hours, following the faint trail of broken branches and overturned stones. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the forest floor. He paused, listening intently. There. A faint, muffled cry reached his ears.
He moved swiftly, his heart pounding in his chest. As he crept closer, the sounds became clearer—grunts, harsh whispers, and the unmistakable sound of someone struggling. Junior's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his dagger. He peered through the thick foliage and saw them: three men, rough-looking and armed, surrounding a figure tied to a tree. But it wasn't just any figure.
