The Rise of the Heir

Chapter 5

The door to the shabby boarding house creaked open, revealing three figures standing on the narrow porch. At the forefront, a middle-aged man in a black suit stood upright. His hair was starting to gray at the temples, but the lines on his face betrayed a rigid, disciplined demeanor.

Behind him, two burly men in plain black t-shirts stood blocking the way, staring coldly at Theo. Theo froze. His ribs and back, still bruised from the impact of the wooden beam earlier that afternoon, suddenly throbbed with a stiffness. However, the man in the suit's gaze triggered something both foreign and familiar in the corners of his childhood memories.

"Theo Atmaja?" The man in the suit's deep voice broke the silence of the alleyway.

Theo tightened his grip on the doorknob, his left hand discreetly feeling for a sharp piece of plastic chair leg under the waistband of his jacket. "Who are you guys?"

Instead of answering, the man in the suit simply made a small gesture with his chin. Without warning, one of the burly men behind him lunged forward.

WHUSH!

A straight punch flew straight at Theo's jaw. Instinctively, Theo ducked, letting the wind of the blow whip through his hair. However, his exhaustion and malnutrition slowed his movements. As he tried to slide sideways to lock his opponent's wrist, his injured ribs suddenly cramped violently.

"Ugh!" Theo groaned, his grip slipping.

The other burly man took advantage of the opening, delivering a short kick that lodged firmly in Theo's stomach.

THUD!

Theo was pushed backward, his back hitting the plywood cabinet in the room, causing it to sway. His breath hitched, and the taste of blood filled his mouth again. He forced himself back to his feet, assuming a low stance, breathing heavily. His frail body was truly being pushed to its limit tonight.

"Enough," the man in the suit said.

The burly man, who had just prepared to deliver a follow-up blow, immediately withdrew his energy, took two steps back, and neatly returned to his original position.

Theo wiped the blood from his chin, his eyes piercing with suppressed anger. "Are you trying to rob me, or what?"

The man in the suit stared at Theo for a long moment, observing the bruises on his face and the tattered courier uniform on the floor. Slowly, he bowed respectfully with a cold, formal salute.

"Sorry for the physical test, Theo. Your body is slow, but your basic reflexes prove whose blood flows in your veins," the man said calmly. "My name is Yanuar. I was a former confidant of your father, Roy Atmaja."

The name hit Theo in the head. Time seemed to stop for a moment. Theo stared at the man's face longer now.

The lines of his face were defined. His hair was starting to streak with gray at the temples. His eyes were sharp yet calm.

A hazy childhood memory slowly rose to the surface. "Uncle Yanuar...? The Uncle Yanuar who used to bring me chocolate?"

The man used to come carrying large shopping bags and always sneaking chocolates into his mouth when Theo's mother forbade him. He also liked to lift little Theo onto his shoulder.

The man smiled slightly this time. It wasn't a formal smile anymore, but a warm smile that felt like it had been missing from Theo's life for a long time.

"That's right," he said with a small nod.

Theo remained stunned.

He glanced back at the two large men behind Yanuar.

"Who are you guys... exactly?" he asked again, this time more quietly. "And... why are you looking for me now?"

The smile on Yanuar's face slowly faded. His expression turned serious. Very serious.

"Because we've lost track of you for too long, Young Master." The man emphasized the last two words.

The sentence made Theo's chest feel tight for no apparent reason.

Yanuar continued, "And because... this situation no longer allows us to let you continue living as an ordinary person."

Theo fell silent. The night breeze blew softly through the narrow boarding house hallway. Deep within him, something seemed to be starting to stir again. Something he'd been desperately suppressing since his father's death.

Yanuar then smiled faintly, so faintly it was almost imperceptible. "We'd better talk inside. This hallway is too crowded with people."

•••

Yanuar stepped inside, ignoring the mess of items destroyed by Theo's tantrum last night. He sat down on the only remaining metal chair and placed a black leather briefcase on the table.

"I don't have much time, and I don't think you need small talk either," Yanuar opened his briefcase, pulling out a thick folder with a stiff legal seal. "Mr. Roy's death ten years ago left many holes. Your father was not only the founder of the logistics faction 'Atmaja Group,' whose branches are now controlled by others, but he was also the man behind Agent RX."

Theo fell silent, his chest still heaving against the ache in his stomach. "Agent RX... the news of the fire this morning?"

"That's right. Our group is being severely attacked by the sector government faction," Yanuar tapped the folder on the table. "Mr. Roy left a legal will. Legally, all Atmaja Group inheritance rights and assets will go to you once you enroll at Armagenda University—the place where our faction's legality is legally recognized in Monia."

Theo stared at the stack of papers skeptically. "If all this is mine, why are you only coming now? Where were you while I was begging for work as a cleaning service?"

Yanuar didn't blink. His gaze turned cold and skeptical.

"Because Agen RX isn't an orphanage, Theo. And I won't let this organization collapse just because it's led by a snotty kid whose life was ruined on the streets," Yanuar said honestly, his tone piercing and merciless. "We didn't seek you out because we need a hero. We came because our internal faction is splitting apart."

Theo frowned. "Splitting apart?"

"Not everyone at Agen RX wants Roy Atmaja's son back," Yanuar stood, eyeing Theo up and down. "Half of the Atmaja Group's board of directors and Agen RX's field commanders consider you nothing more than a burden from the past. They're led by new recruits who want to sell the organization to a government faction for their own convenience."

Yanuar walked toward the door and turned back briefly. "This will is just a piece of trash if you can't defend your own life. I'm giving you this document because I owe your father a debt of gratitude. But remember this, Theo..."

Yanuar paused, his voice flat yet full of stern warning.

"I won't obey you just because of your last name. At Agen RX, your orders will only become law if you can prove that your head is no more fragile than the plastic chair in your room. Settle your scholarship matters, enter Armagenda, and face the people who want you dead there."

After Yanuar and his two bodyguards left, silence returned to the stuffy boarding room.

Theo stared at the leather folder on the table. There was no instant miracle. No loyal troops immediately kneeling to surrender the throne. What lay before him was a new, far greater and bloodier war.

Slowly, Theo approached the table, picked up his cracked pen, and signed the confirmation form for the physical documents inside the folder. His eyes stared straight out the window, at the glittering but toxic city lights of Monia.

He didn't know what awaited him at Armagenda University, but one thing was certain ... he wouldn't let anyone walk all over him again.