Cold-Blooded Barista

THE ART OF WAR AND ESPRESSO

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—join Rizal or disappear. Most of them knew better than to fight back. Within a week, Rizal had control over three of Johan’s drug warehouses, his illegal gambling rings, and even a few corrupt cops on his payroll.

Ucok, now in charge of managing operations, leaned against the café counter while sipping an espresso. “I gotta say, Zal, I never thought I’d be running a criminal empire while drinking top-tier coffee.”

Damar checked the security footage on his laptop. “You can joke about it, but Adi won’t stay silent. He’s losing money, and when rich guys lose money, they get angry.”

Rizal poured himself a cup of coffee and took a slow sip. “Good. I want him angry.”

Just then, the café door opened. A woman in a red dress walked in, her heels clicking against the floor. She had sharp eyes, a confident smirk, and an air of danger.

Ucok muttered under his breath, “Great. Another problem.”

She approached the counter and leaned in. “You must be Rizal.”

Rizal set his cup down. “And you are?”

She smiled. “Call me Maya. I bring a message from Adi.”

Damar’s hand instinctively reached for his gun.

Maya raised a hand. “Relax, boys. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.”

Ucok scoffed. “Well, that’s comforting.”

Maya slid a small envelope across the counter. “Adi wants a meeting. Tomorrow night. The old hotel on Jalan Mawar. No tricks, no guns.”

Rizal glanced at the envelope but didn’t touch it. “And if I refuse?”

Maya smirked. “Then he’ll bring the war to your doorstep.”

She turned and walked away, leaving a faint scent of perfume in the air.

Ucok exhaled loudly. “Well, that’s definitely a trap.”

Damar leaned forward. “You’re not seriously considering going, are you?”

Rizal picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a single playing card—the ace of spades.

He smiled. “Oh, I’m definitely going."