2025-03-03 00:51:36Rizal stood behind the coffee counter, his fingers tapping lightly against his cup. Outside, the city of Medan was waking up—motorcycles weaved through the narrow streets, vendors shouted their morning deals, and life moved on as usual. But inside Kopi Hitam Rizal, the air was still heavy.
Ucok, still shaken by what had just happened, leaned against the counter. "Zal, be honest with me. Are you sure this won’t turn into a bigger problem?"
Rizal smirked slightly. "Ucok, if Bang Togar already sent people, that means the problem was big from the start."
Ucok scratched his head, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. "Are you sure you don’t just want to run? Like before?"
Rizal stared into his coffee. He had been running long enough. Five years of hiding, changing names, changing lives. But the thing about running was, you could change everything—except who you really were.
Before Rizal could answer, the shop’s bell rang. An old man in a worn-out jacket stepped in, bringing with him the unmistakable scent of clove cigarettes. He looked thinner than the last time Rizal had seen him, but his gaze was still sharp.
Rizal recognized him immediately. "Pak Haris."
Ucok frowned. "Who’s he?"
Pak Haris gave a small smile. "You used to call me Commander."
Ucok’s eyes widened. "You’re kidding, right? This guy’s a former cop?"
Rizal took a deep breath, then gestured for Pak Haris to sit. The man complied without a word, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket but not lighting one.
"Rizal," Pak Haris finally said, his voice deep and steady. "I heard you stirred up some trouble this morning."
Rizal shrugged. "Wasn’t me who started it."
Pak Haris chuckled. "That’s what you always said back in the day. But we both know, in this world, it’s not about who starts it. It’s about who finishes it first."
Ucok looked back and forth between them, then muttered, "I don’t like it when two ex-killers start reminiscing."
Rizal ignored him. "What do you really want, Pak?"
Pak Haris studied him. "I know Bang Togar won’t stop until you’re dead. And I know he has a damn good reason for hunting you down."
"I already told you—I’m retired," Rizal said flatly.
Pak Haris smirked. "And you think they care? You’re not an ordinary man, Rizal. You’re not just some coffee brewer. You’re a legend in the underworld. And unfortunately, legends rarely get to die peacefully."
Ucok swallowed hard. "Okay, this is starting to sound like a bad mafia movie."
Pak Haris ignored him and leaned back in his chair. "I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to offer you a choice."
Rizal narrowed his eyes. "What choice?"
Pak Haris pulled something out of his jacket—a thick brown envelope—and placed it on the table.
"There’s someone who needs to die," he said. "Someone whose death will make Bang Togar think twice before coming after you."
Ucok nearly choked on his coffee. "Wait! He just said he’s retired! You can’t just come in here and—"
"I can," Pak Haris interrupted firmly. "And I know Rizal will listen."
Rizal stared at the envelope, then back at Pak Haris.
"Five years ago, I chose to walk away," he said quietly. "And now you’re here, trying to pull me back in?"
Pak Haris met his gaze without hesitation. "It’s not me pulling you back, Rizal. It’s the world refusing to let you go."
The coffee shop fell silent again. Rizal could hear his own heartbeat slowing down, as if the world itself was giving him time to think.
Outside, the city of Medan contin
ued as usual.
Inside, a long-delayed war was just beginning.
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Rizal stared at the thick brown envelope on the table, his fingers drumming lightly against the wooden surface. He didn’t need to open it to know what was inside—details, photos, and probably a large sum of money to finish the job.Ucok’s voice broke the silence. "Zal, don’t even think about it."Pak Haris exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "You know this is your best option."Rizal leaned back, arms crossed. "Best option for who? You? Bang Togar?"Pak Haris smirked. "For you, Rizal. If you take this job, you control the game. If you don’t, you’ll just be a hunted man waiting for the bullet with your name on it."Ucok scoffed. "Or he could just disappear again."Pak Haris turned to him. "Disappearing worked once. It won’t work twice. Togar’s power is different now. He has more eyes, more men, more reach. Wherever Rizal runs, they’ll find him."Rizal exhaled slowly. "Who’s the target?"Pak Haris smiled, knowing he had hooked him in. He tapped the envelope. "Open it."Rizal sighed, picked
Cold-Blooded Barista THE FIRST STEP
Ucok kept pacing inside the coffee shop, the soles of his sneakers screeching against the wooden floor. His breathing was heavy, and every now and then, he exhaled fuuuuh, as if hoping to blow away the problem in front of them.At the table, Rizal sat still. His fingers tapped the wooden surface with a tick-tick-tick rhythm, staring at the envelope as if it might explode at any moment."Zal, if you take this job, you’ll be stepping back into your old world," Ucok finally said, his voice tense.Rizal raised an eyebrow. "You think I don’t know that?"Ucok let out a long sigh and sat across from Rizal. His chair creaked creeaak under his weight. "You fought so hard to get out. Now, Pak Haris comes with one offer, and you waver just like that?"Rizal smirked slightly. "Waver? I never said I was taking the job.""But you also didn’t say no right away," Ucok shot back.Rizal picked up one of the photos from the envelope. Adi Sutrisno. The man in the picture was laughing, dressed in a black
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The Maharaja Hotel towered over Medan’s skyline, its golden lights gleaming like a beacon for the rich and the dangerous. As Rizal and Ucok approached the entrance, the vroom of luxury cars filled the air, their engines growling like beasts ready to be unleashed.Ucok adjusted his jacket nervously. “Are you sure about this? That place is full of security.”Rizal smirked. “That’s what makes it fun.”Ucok groaned. “Great. Now you sound like a lunatic.”A valet’s shoes squeaked against the marble floor as he hurried to open the door for a guest. Inside, the lobby was filled with the scent of expensive perfume and polished wood. The click-clack of high heels echoed as elegant women walked by, their laughter mixing with the soft jazz playing in the background.Rizal walked confidently toward the elevator, Ucok trailing behind. “How do we get to the VIP floor? We don’t have an access card,” Ucok whispered.Rizal spotted a wealthy businessman chatting with a hotel staff member. His access ca
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The cool night air brushed against Rizal’s face as he and Ucok sped away from the Maharaja Hotel on a motorbike. The vroom of the engine echoed through the empty streets of Medan, blending with the distant hum of the city that never truly slept.Ucok clung to Rizal’s waist. “Next time, bro, can we just take a Grab? I swear my ass is gonna fall off.”Rizal chuckled but kept his focus on the road. “Where’s the thrill in that?”They pulled up at a small coffee stall tucked in a quiet alley. The neon sign flickered bzzzt, casting a dim glow over the wooden benches. It was one of Rizal’s usual hideouts—safe, quiet, and most importantly, serving the best black coffee in town.Inside, an old man behind the counter greeted them with a nod. “Your usual black coffee, Rizal?”“Two, please, Pak.”Ucok groaned as he plopped onto a bench. “It’s not coffee I need, bro. I need a vacation.”Rizal smirked. “You complain a lot, but you still follow me everywhere.”Ucok let out a long sigh. “Because if I
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Ucok lit his cigarette with trembling hands. "Johan won’t stay silent, Zal. You know that."Rizal poured espresso into a cup, as calm as ever. "I know."Ucok exhaled smoke slowly. "So, when do we strike first?"Rizal placed his cup down and looked at Ucok. "We wait for them to come."Ucok raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? We’re just going to sit here and wait for them to come and massacre us?"Rizal gave a faint smile. "No. We’ll make them think they’re the ones in control."Ucok let out a long sigh. "Alright, I just hope your plan is better than the coffee you make."Since the meeting with Johan, Rizal knew time was running out. He watched every customer entering his café more closely. Any one of them could be Johan’s spy.That afternoon, while Rizal was cleaning a table, the café door opened, and a tall man in a black suit walked in. He casually approached the bar and sat down."Americano," he said in a deep voice.Rizal recognized that face—Bobby, one of Johan’s trusted men.Cal
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Rizal stood at the edge of the dock, gazing at the dark waters. The smell of salt mixed with the faint scent of blood still lingering in the air. The fight with Johan was over, but the real war was just beginning.Ucok lit a cigarette beside him. “So, what’s the next step, Zal? We know Adi won’t let this slide.”Damar, leaning against a crate, loaded his gun. “Yeah. Johan was just a pawn. The real boss is still out there.”Rizal smirked, his hands still in his jacket pockets. “We don’t go to Adi. We make him come to us.”Ucok raised an eyebrow. “How exactly do we do that? Send him a coffee invitation?”Damar chuckled. “Yeah, with a ‘special blend’ of gunpowder and revenge.”Rizal turned to them. “We take over Johan’s operations. His men, his warehouses, his contacts. Adi will be forced to respond.”Ucok whistled. “Damn, that’s bold. But what if his response is a bullet to our heads?”Rizal took a deep breath. “Then we make sure we fire first.”Johan’s men who survived had two choices—
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Ucok stood frozen at the harbor, his eyes fixed on the churning sea. Denpasar still smoldered behind them, cold corpses scattered like dominoes struck by a sledgehammer. In his hand, a pistol with only one bullet left. In his heart, a rage that burned like embers constantly fanned by the winds of betrayal.Nova sat not far away, a gunshot wound on her shoulder crudely bandaged, her lips pale. But her eyes still blazed—as they always did.Maya was busy hacking the only laptop salvaged from the burned-out headquarters.Rizal? His whereabouts were unknown. He was last seen chasing Kaspar towards the pier, and had vanished since."If this is life," Ucok muttered softly, "I want a refund."Nova gave a weak smirk. "You'll have to email God first, Cok. But make sure the subject line is in all caps."Ucok chuckled softly, but the sound was like the scrape of a dented can lid—hollow and bitter.Suddenly, Maya lifted her head from the screen. "I found his trail," she said quickly. "Kaspar is he
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The sound of shoe soles striking the underground concrete floor echoed like the relentless ticking of time. Thump. Thump. Thump. Rizal walked at the forefront, his body as taut as a violin string stretched to its breaking point. Behind him, Ucok, Nova, and Maya followed, each with a sharp gaze and faces etched with old wounds.Ucok, clutching the short firearm he had named "Little Trouble Maker," whispered softly, "Are you sure about this way, Zal? If this is a trap, we could end up as mafia shish kebab."Rizal didn't answer. But his eyes were fixed on the large metal door standing at the end of the corridor. Behind it, he believed, lay the truth. And perhaps blood.Nova, with his characteristic nonchalant style, said, "If this is the end, make sure I die in style. I don't want to perish in an ugly pose."Maya patted his shoulder. "Relax, I'll make sure you look like a criminal magazine model."Ucok grinned. "'The Last Woman Laughing at Hell.' Suits you."The door wasn't locked. Rizal
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Darkness enveloped the room.Nova gripped her pistol tightly, her heart pounding wildly in her ears."The lights are flickering like they can't decide if they want to live or die," Ucok whispered behind Nova. "Is this a mafia bunker or a haunted house?""Focus, Cok!" Rizal replied in a low voice.Suddenly—small flashlights from the enemies' helmets flickered on one by one, like demonic eyes appearing all around them."Just say it's zombie cosplay," Ucok hissed, cocking his pistol.Nova moved first. She ducked and fired accurately at one helmet—thwack—the light went out along with a short scream. Instantly, a hail of bullets returned fire.The three of them scattered. Gunshots echoed wildly in the darkness. Muzzle flashes illuminated fleeting glimpses of hate-filled faces.Ucok rolled on the floor, seeking cover behind a cracked concrete pillar."I swear, Rizal, after this we're opening a satay business. This job is too heart-stopping!" Ucok yelled while firing blindly."If it's satay,
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The whirring of helicopters shook the Jakarta night. Under the dim moonlight, Nova, Rizal, and Ucok looked up, holding their breath. The figure in the helicopter was no ordinary threat. It was Dimas Arta—their former ally who had disappeared during the big clash at the harbor. Now, he stood on the enemy's side.Nova clenched her fist. "I have to end this now."Without a word, Dimas jumped down using a cable from the helicopter, landing with precision on the wet asphalt. His right hand held an automatic rifle, his left hand pointed at Nova as if challenging her to a duel."Dare to face me, Nova!" Dimas shouted, his voice loud enough to overcome the roar of the helicopter propellers.Ucok gritted his teeth. "Let me finish him, Nova."Nova raised her hand, stopping Ucok. "This is my business."The humid Jakarta air felt even heavier. Everything seemed to stop. Even the remnants of the Black Order's men who had attacked earlier now stood in a circle, watching the bloody duel that was abou
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Amid the downpour that blurred his vision, Nova stared straight ahead. His mind fixated on one thing he had never imagined – his older brother, whom he believed had died in the Black Order's attack years ago, was alive and part of the organization that controlled fear in Jakarta."This can't be happening. I have to know why he's doing this," Nova muttered to himself, feeling confused and angry.With determined steps, he moved through the crowd, following a trail that would uncover all the secrets.However, he knew that each step also meant danger drawing closer. The enemy would not let them proceed so easily.The night deepened in Jakarta, the streets began to empty, with only the roar of vehicle engines and the soft patter of rain audible. Nova's car sped along the wet road, creating ripples of water behind it. Inside the car, Rizal sat beside him, his gaze blank, as if unsure what to say."So... the older brother is still alive? Why is he here?" Rizal finally asked, breaking the sil
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Darkness.Nova's breathing was heavy. She gripped her pistol tightly, hearing footsteps thudding around them.Ucok nudged Rizal's shoulder. "Bro, this is like a test of courage. But the difference is... the ghosts here carry AK-47s."Rizal took a long breath. "Dude... I haven't paid my warteg debt yet, bro."Nova's voice hardened. "Focus! They're coming."A shot rang out from the shadows. The bullet whizzed past, almost kissing Ucok's cheek.Ucok jumped behind a stack of crates. "HEY! This isn't an airsoft gun, you know!"Nova moved quickly. She switched on the small flashlight attached to her pistol, briefly cutting through the darkness—enough to see the silhouettes of four masked men.Without hesitation, Nova pulled the trigger.BANG! BANG!One man fell, the rest scattered.Rizal followed up by throwing a gas pipe at the enemy. One of them fell with a satisfying thunk!Ucok spun around, two pistols dancing in his hands. Every sound of footsteps was met with the sound of bullets."If
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Ucok, Nova, and Rizal had just set foot in Jakarta. The hot air mixed with the smell of exhaust fumes greeted them at Pasar Senen station.Ucok fanned his jacket, wincing. "Jakarta... a place where you can get cilok, pickpockets, and the possibility of death in one step."Rizal looked at Nova, who had been pale since the airport. "Are you sure you want to meet Lukas Arjuna? Your own father?"Nova nodded slightly. "If he is indeed the one behind all this chaos... I will take his life myself."Ucok whistled softly. "Happy little family..."They walked through the narrow alleys of Pasar Senen. In the middle of the crowd, Lukas's eyes were already waiting.A becak stopped abruptly in front of them. Three men with tattooed, burn-scarred skin emerged.Nova reached for the pistol behind her hoodie.Ucok raised his hand. "Easy. This is Jakarta. Sometimes becaks are indeed filled with gangsters."Without further ado, a fight erupted.Ucok threw his sandal at the head of one thug. Nova kicked a
The Last Bullet in Denpasar
Ucok stood frozen in front of Kuta Square, Denpasar. The sunlight reflected off the black shades hanging on his face. But the eyes behind them were full of unease. Behind him, Nova dragged a suitcase. Not a tourist suitcase, but a case full of weapons."Two days in Bali, and all we've stepped on is hot asphalt and other people's blood," muttered Nova."Yeah... welcome to the dark side of paradise," Ucok replied, sipping melted coconut ice that now tasted like warm coconut water.Rizal approached from the right, his white shirt stained with dried blood. "We got info. Final target: Don Nino. Location: a villa in Jimbaran. But there's one problem.""Don't tell me... another traitor?" Ucok asked, unzipping his jacket full of bullets.Rizal shook his head. "The problem is... we only have one bullet left."Ucok froze. "One bullet? For Don Nino? The guy surrounded by bodyguards like ants on sugar?"Nova stared sharply. "That's why we have to make that bullet count."Don Nino's villa didn’t l
Blood Hunt in Jakarta
When the sky over Jakarta turns red, and blood flows faster than the rain… then it’s not an ordinary night.The city that never sleeps was louder than usual tonight. Above ground, traffic was still jammed. Beneath it—under the shadows of concrete flyovers and old war bunkers repurposed into mafia lairs—human breath was measured in seconds. In a narrow corridor that reeked of tobacco and dried blood, four silhouettes ran. Rizal led, silenced pistol in hand. Behind him: Nova, Maya, and Ucok.“Kaspar is completely insane,” muttered Rizal as he kicked open a metal door. “He built a base under Jakarta? Seriously?”“If he opened a warteg down here too, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ucok panted. “Except his warteg probably serves bombs.”The door opened. A thick mist greeted them. The hum of an old machine echoed in the distance, like a sleeping giant snoring.“Heat sensors activated,” said Nova, pressing a button on her digital glove. “One... two… ten heat signatures. Slow movement. Likely merc