The System of Justice

Chapter 7: Sector 7

Arga gripped the steering wheel tight, his eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the road ahead, which was being lashed by heavy rain. The Black Cab sped along at high velocity yet remained remarkably stable, thanks to a navigation system that automatically sought routes hidden from both police surveillance and Anton’s henchmen.

"Our home isn't safe anymore, Sarah," Arga said, his voice heavy but steady, trying not to frighten his wife further. "The men from earlier... they were sent by General Anton. "The man who framed the case I was working on is General Anton."

Sarah covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A general? But why would he want to kill us?"

"Because I hold evidence that could destroy him and his entire network. He wants to silence us forever." Arga glanced at her briefly, his gaze filled with a solemn promise. "I won't let that happen. I’m taking us to a place where they can’t find you."

[Message from Ghost: Arga, I’ve cleared the route ahead. Pull into the narrow alley at the coordinates I sent; it leads straight to the back door of Sector 7. Make sure you don't have a tail.

Arga jerked the wheel to the left, entering a dark corridor tucked between abandoned old buildings. The car came to a halt in front of a rusted iron door that looked like a scrap warehouse entrance.

"Get out slowly." Arga helped Sarah out of the car.

As they approached the door, a retinal scanner slid out from a hidden crevice in the wall.

[Identity Scan: Arga Edigro... Verified.]

The iron door hissed open with a modern whir, a sharp contrast to its dilapidated exterior. Inside was an old freight elevator that immediately whisked them to the top floor.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a vast room bathed in the blue glow of dozens of monitors. In the center of the room, a young man with a black hoodie and a headset hanging around his neck was typing at a frenetic speed.

"You’re finally here, Detective. You’re two minutes later than I expected," the youth said without turning around.

"Ghost?" Arga called out. The figure spun around in his chair.

"Yeah. Finally, we meet face-to-face, Uncle Detective," said the boy, who looked incredibly young.

"So, the person helping me all this time was a teenager?" Arga chuckled.

"Unexpected, isn't it?" Rio said, rising from his seat. "Lay your wife down on the bed, Uncle."

Arga complied, helping the bewildered Sarah lie down on the nearby cot.

"Do you need anything, honey? I’ll get you a drink," Arga said.

"Yes, some water, please," Sarah replied faintly, her lips parched.

Arga quickly grabbed a bottle of mineral water from Rio’s workstation and helped Sarah drink slowly. Once he was sure she felt calmer and more comfortable, Arga stepped over to Ghost, who had already refocused on the cascading lines of code on his monitors.

"So, what’s your real name?" Arga asked, standing beside him. "I can't exactly keep calling you Ghost, can I?"

Ghost let out a small laugh. "Call me Rio. But in the underworld, I’m known as Ghost. And Uncle, don't underestimate a teenager. Without this kid, you’d probably be fish food in Ancol by now, thanks to the trap set by Commander Hardi and his goons."

Arga offered a thin smile. "True. I owe you my life. Could you please provide me with the latest situation? General Anton must be losing his mind."

Rio slammed the Enter key. Instantly, the large monitor in front of them shifted to a satellite map focused on a luxury mansion on the outskirts of the city. Surrounding the map, smaller windows displayed illegally intercepted CCTV footage.

"Yeah, they’re scrambling. They're desperate to save their reputation, their careers, and their son. Meanwhile, the public has started attacking their social media, demanding the government take action," Rio explained.

"They better be ready for the public’s fury," Arga said, folding his arms across his chest. "How’s the response to the news we leaked? Will the government actually move to arrest them? Raka, the general’s son, needs to pay for what he did."

Rio spun his chair around, his eyes a mix of excitement and caution.

"The response? It’s explosive, Uncle. Your voice recording and the evidence from the Pratama vault were akin to igniting a fire. Netizens have started a petition, and the government has no choice but to pretend to be tough."

Rio clicked on a news window showing a police spokesperson stammering through a statement. "Raka has officially been named a suspect and is under a travel ban. But you know how it goes, right? Individuals like Raka often have numerous tricks up their sleeves. If public pressure drops even a little, Raka will vanish abroad with a fake passport."

Arga clenched his fist. "I won't give them room to breathe."

"Exactly," Rio leaned forward, his voice dropping. "If you want Raka in a cell and General Anton rotting in prison, we need the Ace hidden in that mansion. Anton keeps a physical hard drive that’s never been connected to the internet. It contains data on the bribery of the judges who will handle Raka’s case. He’s already prepping a sham trial. Beyond that, Anton is involved in high-level corruption and embezzlement within the force."

"So, you want me to expose all their filth? You know how corruption cases go in this country. The law is often unfair and weak," Arga said. "Honestly, as long as Raka gets the punishment he deserves, that’s enough. But if the law fails, I will terrorize him until he feels safer inside a prison cell than out."

Rio fell silent for a moment, looking at Arga with an unreadable expression. He could feel the cold aura radiating from the man in front of him. Arga was no longer a detective who believed in procedure; he had transformed into someone ready to transcend the law for true justice.

"I get it, Uncle. Occasionally, you have to meet a monster with something even more terrifying." Rio turned his chair back to the screen.

The following day, the city reached a boiling point. Rio’s prediction came true.

A massive wave of angry protesters gathered in front of the police headquarters. Banners reading "JUSTICE FOR RAKA'S VICTIMS" and "HANG THE CORRUPT IN UNIFORM" fluttered among the crowd. The viral news had taken on an unstoppable momentum. Under massive public pressure and direct orders from state officials who feared for their image, the police had no other choice.

"The public is truly furious about this case. Especially since it resulted in a death," Arga remarked as he watched the television while feeding Sarah.

Sarah looked at her husband. "By the way, aren't you going to work, Ar?"

Arga paused. "I haven't told you yet. Actually... I resigned, Sarah."

Sarah went silent.

"I couldn't lie to my conscience anymore. This was my case, and Hardi asked me to bury it just because the perpetrator is the general’s son. I couldn't do it. My instincts as a detective felt tainted," Arga admitted.

Sarah smiled—a response that caught Arga off guard. "You... you're not angry?"

"Of course not," Sarah answered. "I love your honesty. If you had stayed and become a dishonest man, that's when I would have been truly angry. Resigning was the right choice," she said with a sweet smile. "As for work, we can always find something else, right?"

Arga was stunned. Sarah’s words were like an oasis in the emotional desert he had wandered through over the past few days. He set the bowl of porridge on the nightstand and gently took her hand.

"Thank you, Sarah. Your support is my strength," Arga said sincerely.

***