2025-03-04 01:00:30
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Cold-Blooded Barista An Offer Too Good to Refuse
After Rendra left, Rizal’s café returned to its usual quiet atmosphere. Only the sound of the espresso machine and light chatter from customers filled the room. But Rizal’s mind remained unsettled. That offer wasn’t just an ordinary job.Ucok tapped the counter. “Bro, I don’t like that guy.”Damar crossed his arms. “Me neither. He didn’t just come to offer a job. He definitely has another agenda.”Rizal sighed and picked up the business card Rendra had left behind. Santoso Security Agency. A name that sounded legitimate, but to Rizal, it was just a front for something deeper.Suddenly, police sirens echoed from the street in front of the café. Rizal glanced outside. Two patrol cars stopped across the road, and several officers got out, talking to someone in a narrow alley.Ucok peeked as well. “What now? This city never truly stays quiet, huh?”Damar grabbed a towel and started wiping the counter, though his eyes remained fixed on the scene. “If the cops are involved, it means somethi
Cold-Blooded Barista Shadows of the Past
Rizal slowly closed the folder. His eyes remained fixed on the photo inside. A familiar face. A face that once stood by his side—before everything turned into chaos.Rendra leaned back in his chair. "I know you recognize him."Rizal looked up, his expression unreadable. "I thought he was dead."Rendra gave a slight smirk. "A lot of people thought so."The man in the photo was Leonard Wijaya, one of the biggest masterminds in the city's underworld years ago. He was the brains behind numerous illegal operations, from arms dealing to high-end drug distribution. Rizal knew him well.Because once, they were brothers-in-arms.Back then, Rizal and Leonard worked under the same boss. They fought together, built networks, and protected each other. Until one day, Leonard betrayed everything they had built.And now, he was back."He won't stop until he gets what he wants," Rendra said. "And I'm sure he'll come looking for you too."Rizal remained silent, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
Cold-Blooded Barista The Hunt Begins
Rizal walked out of the warehouse, his mind racing. The night air was thick with tension, and the distant hum of the city barely reached this abandoned part of town. He had just made a deal with the devil—Leonard. But if someone was targeting his people, he had no choice but to play the game again.As he reached his motorcycle, his phone buzzed.He hesitated before answering. “Who is this?”A distorted voice replied, “You have 24 hours to find me, Barista. Or your friend dies.”Rizal’s grip tightened around the phone. “Where is he?”The voice chuckled. “That would be too easy. Come and find me. I’ll be waiting at the place where everything ended.”The line went dead.Rizal clenched his jaw. The place where everything ended? There was only one place that fit that description.The old docks.Rizal rode straight to the café, where Damar was pacing nervously outside.“Where the hell have you been?” Damar demanded. “Ucok’s missing, and I’ve been getting weird calls all night!”Rizal parked
Cold-Blooded Barista Brewing Storm
The night had settled over the city, but Rizal’s mind refused to rest. Sitting in the dimly lit café, he stared at the cup of espresso in front of him, untouched. The bitter aroma mixed with the scent of rain that had started drizzling outside.Ucok sat across from him, nursing a bruised wrist. “Bro, you sure we should just let that bastard go?”“He won’t stay hidden for long,” Rizal muttered. “Reza’s not the type to give up. If he’s got bigger players backing him, we need to be ready.”Leonard leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Then it’s time to start digging. We need to know who’s pulling the strings.”Damar walked in, shaking off his wet jacket. “I made some calls. Word on the street is, there’s been movement in the old districts—smuggling routes reopening, new faces in the game.”Ucok raised an eyebrow. “You mean Reza’s not the top dog?”“Far from it.” Damar sat down. “Someone’s been cleaning up the mess left behind when the old bosses disappeared. And guess what? They kno
Cold-Blooded Barista A Ghost from the Past
The name Adrian Kusuma burned in Rizal’s mind like a brand. He hadn’t heard it in nearly a decade, but the memories resurfaced instantly—bloodstained streets, whispered orders, and a betrayal that nearly cost him his life.Leonard glanced at the list in Rizal’s hands. “You know him.”It wasn’t a question.Ucok raised an eyebrow. “Judging by your face, this dude ain't just some random crime boss.”Rizal took a slow breath. “Adrian Kusuma is the reason I left this life. He tried to have me killed.”Damar whistled. “Well, that’s awkward.”Rizal’s grip on the paper tightened. “If he’s back in the game, we’re dealing with more than just a syndicate. Adrian doesn’t take chances. If he’s involved, it means he’s already planned five steps ahead.”Leonard leaned against the desk. “Then we better move fast.”Rizal nodded. “First, we need to figure out where he is. And second—”Ucok smirked. “—we crash his party.”Finding Adrian wasn’t easy. The Cobra Syndicate was well-connected, and their oper
Cold-Blooded Barista Interrogation
The night air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke as Rizal clenched his fists. Adrian had slipped through his fingers again, but this time, it wasn’t just another lost opportunity—it was personal.Ucok kicked over a trash can in frustration. “That slippery bastard always has an escape plan, huh?”Leonard holstered his gun. “We should’ve seen it coming. Adrian’s too smart to get caught like that.”Damar, still catching his breath, leaned against the alley wall. “So what now? We go back and lick our wounds, or do we push forward?”Rizal wiped the blood from his lip and straightened. “We push forward.”Leonard smirked. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”Adrian was a ghost, but every ghost left behind traces. If they couldn’t get to him directly, they’d hit his network—piece by piece.Damar pulled up a laptop at their safe house. “I managed to clone some data from the club’s security system before things went sideways.”He typed rapidly, eyes scanning the screen. “Adrian didn’t com
Cold-Blooded Barista Fire and Fury
The explosion sent a shockwave through the airport, BOOM!—flames erupted, metal twisted, and debris rained down like deadly confetti. Rizal barely had time to react before a blast of heat washed over him.“Down!” he shouted.Ucok tackled Damar out of the way as a flaming piece of wreckage crashed onto the tarmac. Leonard shielded his face with his arm, eyes scanning for any sign of Adrian.Rizal pushed himself up, coughing against the thick black smoke. Adrian had to be here.Then he saw it—a shadow moving through the flames.Adrian Kusuma, slipping away like a phantom in the chaos.“Oh, no you don’t,” Rizal growled.Rizal sprinted after him, weaving through the wreckage. Adrian was fast, but Rizal was faster.Adrian ducked into a service tunnel beneath the airport. Rizal followed, gun drawn.The tunnel was dimly lit, the hum of machinery echoing off the walls. Water dripped from overhead pipes.Footsteps. Close.Then—WHOOSH!A knife whizzed past Rizal’s ear, embedding itself in the w
Cold-Blooded Barista A New Target
The metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid smoke still lingering in the air. Rizal stared at Adrian’s lifeless body, his mind racing. He had spent years chasing this man, and now, just when he had him, someone else had taken the final shot.His grip tightened around his knife. Whoever did this wasn’t done yet.Leonard’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Rizal! What’s your status?”Rizal exhaled sharply. “Adrian’s down. But not by my hand.”A pause. Then Ucok’s voice cut in. “Wait… what? Someone else got to him?”“Sniper. Precision shot. Professional.” Rizal scanned the rafters, but whoever was up there had already disappeared.Damar cursed. “Shit. That means someone wanted Adrian dead before we could get answers.”Leonard’s tone darkened. “And that means we just made ourselves the next targets.”The wail of sirens grew louder. The airport was in chaos, and soon, security would lock everything down.Rizal moved fast, checking Adrian’s pockets for anything useful. A phone. A s
Latest Chapter
Jakarta Midnight
The explosion rattled the second floor of the dilapidated old building. Glass shards flew. The stench of gunpowder mingled with the musty aroma of old carpets and the sweat of armed men filled the air.Ucok was thrown backward, landing on a meeting table inexplicably still bearing sweet tea and donuts.“ARGH! Who put cockroach-flavored donuts here?!” Ucok yelled, wiping his face smeared with powdered sugar and dried blood.Across the room, Rizal knelt behind a pile of documents. His pistol was empty, and he fumbled in his vest pockets.“Nov! Reload!” he shouted.Nova tossed two magazines from behind a concrete pillar. “Come on, we can’t lose to these SARKA bastards!”Maya swiftly fired bullets, hitting one enemy shooter squarely in the helmet. TAP! TAP! The attacker’s body slammed onto the floor with a THUD!“Two more on the left! Light armor, aim for the thighs or neck!” she yelled.Ucok, who had only brought smoke grenades, shouted as he threw one, “A gift from big brother Ucok, lad
Bloody Revolution on Sudirman Street
The Jakarta night wind greeted them like an angry stepmother. The parachutes unfolded perfectly, but their control in the air? A big fat zero. Ucok screamed as he spun his body, "HEY! THEY DIDN’T TEACH ME HOW TO BRAKE THIS THING ON YOUTUBE!"Nova twisted her body toward the Semanggi Bridge. "Turn right! RIGHT, UCOK, NOT TOWARD MONAS!"Rizal pulled the stabilizing cord. "Relax... we've jumped from the moral state of this country. A building rooftop should be easy."Maya gritted her teeth. "If I die before I upload my clarification video, I’ll come back as a ghost, Zal!"Their landing was rough—it was more like being thrown by God onto the earth than landing gracefully. Ucok nearly crashed into the old bicycle of Pak Satpam, who was startled and immediately fainted."I’ll replace it later, Pak... with an e-bike," Ucok whispered with a guilty expression.Meanwhile, from behind the shadow of the bridge, a pair of eyes observed them. Not a drone this time—but a man in a light ivory suit, s
Hell in South Jakarta
If you want to set hell on fire, make sure you’re not the first one to burn.At 2 AM, South Jakarta’s streets felt emptier than usual. But for Rizal and his team, this city was more than just skyscrapers and neon lights. It was their next battlefield.Hidden behind a steel door in the basement parking of a luxury apartment, SARKA’s central base stood in eerie silence. No signboard, no guards in uniform—just cameras, a retina scanner, and a Doberman with a gold collar standing guard in front of the elevator.Ucok stared at the dog. “Bro, this... this ain’t the human world anymore. That dog’s richer than me.”Maya flicked on the signal jammer. “If we get in, we’ve got ten minutes before full auto-lockdown kicks in.”Nova slid on her comms headset and gave Rizal a nod. “We go in. Silent. Fast. Brutal.”The elevator doors opened. A sterile mix of antiseptic and metal filled the air. Soft classical music played—Vivaldi’s Winter. A perfect contrast to the bloodbath awaiting them.On the 13t
The Last Bastion - Blood or Throne
R-Zero’s automatic rifle erupted like hellish fireworks. Bullets rained against the steel walls, scattering sparks. Rizal dropped to the side, pulling Nova behind a server rack.Ucok tumbled behind a support pillar. “Why does every damn enemy we face have a fetish for shooting first and never asking questions?!”Maya returned fire. “Because this ain’t a romance flick, Cok. This is the mafia world. The slow ones get buried alive.”Dust, the hum of machinery, the shrill scream of the alarm. Rizal’s heart pounded in sync with the bullets thudding around them. On the other side of the room, R-Zero advanced slowly, its weapon still hot.“Rizal!” Nova yelled. “If he reaches the control center, all our data’s gone!”Rizal didn’t answer. He already knew. The world they knew was about to crumble. SARKA would slaughter anyone who refused to bow to the new system: a merciless machine, led by a faceless puppet.He rose. Two steps forward. Staring down his twin—his own nightmare made flesh.“I kno
Second Hand, First Blood
The echo of the blast hadn't fully faded as smoke choked the corridor of the stronghold. Rizal’s body rolled sideways, yanking Maya from the debris. Dust, embers, and adrenaline mingled into one choking haze.Ucok coughed raggedly, “This… this ain’t no infiltration no more. This is a damn slaughterhouse!”Nova kicked at a buckled metal door, pistol raised and ready. “We gotta reach the core room. If he’s still breathing, we finish him. If not—we burn this whole damn place to the ground, foundation and all!”Rizal pushed himself to his feet. Blood streaked his face, but the sharpness had returned to his eyes.“It’s not about living or dying anymore. It’s about who gets to survive as ‘me’.”Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. Thump! Thump! Thump!From the swirling smoke, the figure materialized. A build like Rizal, but bulkier, clad in a tactical vest, a face a roadmap of old scars—and a single, malevolent red eye. A killer’s optic implant.“My name isn’t Rizal,” it stated, the voice
Heir Project
If your blood has a price, then every heartbeat is a debt.The soft thud of leather shoes echoed on the underground concrete floor. Above them, the world seemed serene. But below? Like the dark womb of the criminal underworld, a place where sin was fragmented into documents, and betrayal was placed in test tubes.Rizal stood before a room bathed in a pale yellow light. Inside—archives, genetic codes, and old videos of human experiments. A CCTV camera in the corner of the room pointed downwards, watching them like a small god assessing who deserved to live, who deserved a silent burial.Ucok whispered, “Bro, this place is like a mafia incubator. We’ve snuck into the womb of a giant organization. But… doesn’t it smell like expired embalming fluid?”Nova stifled a laugh, but Maya was serious. “Look at this file: ‘Heir Alpha – Subject Data RZ-17’. That’s the code for Rizal.”Rizal swallowed. Behind the screen, his face was printed there, with the status: "Active - Under observation - High
A Thousand Sins
If blood could be washed clean, why do some still die from old stains?"Welcome to a new game, my friends."Ucok still remembered Kaspar's voice like a whisper from the grave. Cold. Full of promises of death.They left the clinic in the pre-dawn light that had yet to greet the city. Maya's pick-up truck sped towards Batu Ceper, to a place Rizal simply referred to as "the old laundry."Nova drove. Her face was tense. Rizal was silent, but his eyes were busy. As if replaying everything he knew. Everything he had just remembered."I don't like this place," Maya muttered.Ucok chimed in, still half-chewing on a lemper from a roadside stall near the clinic. "You never like places with history. Especially ones that smell like stolen fabric softener."Nova glanced in the rearview mirror. "We're not being followed. But I'm sure they know we're here."Rizal nodded. "That's why we have to be quick. Before they wash away the remnants of my past."The old shophouse looked deserted. Its sign was f
A Thousand Sins
In the mafia world, a name can be currency, or a curse. But for Ucok? That name triggered amnesia because he stumbled upon archives he shouldn't have opened.Ucok sat frozen. All sound seemed to vanish from the room. His breath was shallow, his heartbeat echoed in his own ears.THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.Ucok clutched his head. Memory fragments surfaced… like broken film reels.Flashes of light. An old warehouse. Dusty shelves.A black book, handwritten in red ink:"List of Sins: Operation Sarka"And on the back cover—one name:"UCOK"FlashbackUcok had long hair back then. And, strangely, he was thin.He accidentally walked into a raid at the harbor while delivering food. His intention was just to deliver a special fried rice without onions, but he went through the wrong door.CREAK.He opened a nearly collapsed container, its contents not ordinary contraband. But old documents, VHS tapes, and a black suitcase containing that worn book.He managed to open it, reading while eating. The
BLOOD OATH EMERGENCY
In a world where oaths of loyalty are sharper than stilettos, the deadliest decisions often take birth in hushed whispers. But Ucok? He had his own way of defusing tension – his booming baritone and a miraculously ever-present packet of instant noodles.CRACK! Lightning tore through the night sky. Ucok nearly dropped the spicy noodle soup he’d somehow smuggled in. Nova, already half-crouched behind damp-smelling burlap sacks, kept her eyes peeled, scanning every shadowy corner of the dilapidated warehouse.The leather-jacketed figure moved forward from the gloom. His shadow stretched long, dancing eerily across the cold concrete floor. His hand slipped inside the worn leather of his jacket, producing something utterly unexpected – not the glint of steel, not the silhouette of a grenade, but… an ivory invitation card.“Thought we were at a wedding, Boss?” Rizal quipped, his voice low but laced with sarcasm, from behind a stack of rusty oil drums.The man tossed the card onto the floor