The night air was heavy with humidity as Rizal and Ucok walked away from the warehouse. The dim streetlights barely cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the cracked asphalt. Ucok kept glancing over his shoulder, paranoia creeping into his bones.
“Zal, this is insane,” he muttered. “We’re talking about taking out Adi Sutrisno. That guy doesn’t just run businesses—he owns the police, the politicians, hell, probably even half of Medan’s criminals.”
Rizal exhaled slowly, eyes fixed ahead. “I know.”
“Then why the hell did you say yes?” Ucok hissed. “Pak Haris just put a target on our backs.”
Rizal stopped in his tracks, turning to face his friend. “Because if we don’t take this job, we’re dead anyway.”
Ucok opened his mouth to argue but shut it just as quickly. He hated it, but Rizal was right. Saying no to Pak Haris wasn’t an option. They were already deep in the game. The only way out was through.
With a reluctant sigh, Ucok shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, what’s the plan?”
Rizal’s jaw tensed. “First, we find out who Adi is meeting in Jakarta. If this deal is as big as Pak Haris says, Adi won’t go alone. He’ll have his top guys with him.”
Ucok nodded. “And how do we get that info?”
Rizal smirked. “I know a guy.”
They arrived at a high-end café in the heart of Medan, a stark contrast to their usual hideouts. The place was modern, sleek, and filled with businessmen discussing deals over overpriced coffee.
Ucok raised an eyebrow. “This doesn’t feel like our scene.”
Rizal ignored him and walked straight to a corner table where a man in a crisp white shirt sat, sipping espresso. His neatly trimmed beard and polished demeanor made him look more like a corporate executive than an informant.
“Damar,” Rizal greeted, taking a seat.
Damar set his cup down and adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “Rizal. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Rizal leaned forward. “Adi Sutrisno. I need to know who he’s meeting in Jakarta.”
Damar smirked. “Big fish you’re chasing.”
Rizal didn’t respond, just stared.
Damar sighed. “Alright. I’ll need 48 hours. Adi’s circle is tight, but I have sources.”
Ucok crossed his arms. “And what’s your price?”
Damar grinned. “Oh, just a small favor down the line.”
Ucok groaned. “I hate those kinds of deals.”
Rizal, however, nodded. “Fine. We’ll be in touch.”
As they left the café, Ucok shook his head. “I swear, one day, these ‘small favors’ will bite us in the ass.”
Rizal smirked. “That’s a problem for future us.”
The next night, Rizal’s phone buzzed. A message from Damar:
"Meet me at the old docks. Midnight. Come alone."
Ucok read the message over Rizal’s shoulder. “Yeah, that doesn’t scream ‘trap’ at all.”
Rizal tucked his gun into his waistband. “I’ll be fine.”
Ucok scoffed. “You always say that.”
Despite his protests, Ucok insisted on following from a distance. Rizal rode his motorbike to the docks, the night air thick with the scent of salt and rust. The area was nearly abandoned, save for the occasional flickering streetlamp and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Damar was waiting near an old shipping container, arms crossed. His usual confidence was replaced with unease.
“Rizal, you need to listen carefully,” he said, voice low. “Adi’s meeting isn’t just about business. He’s finalizing an arms deal.”
Rizal’s brows furrowed. “With who?”
Damar hesitated. “A group from Thailand. Black market suppliers. If this deal goes through, Adi’s firepower will be unmatched.”
Rizal absorbed the information. This wasn’t just about money—Adi was gearing up for war.
Before he could respond, a clink echoed in the distance. Footsteps.
Damar’s eyes widened. “Shit. We’ve been followed.”
A gunshot rang out. BANG!
Damar dropped to the ground, clutching his side. Blood pooled beneath him.
Rizal spun, drawing his gun. More shots. BANG! BANG! He ducked behind a crate as bullets ricocheted off metal.
Ucok, hiding nearby, fired back. “Rizal, we need to move!”
Rizal grabbed Damar and pulled him behind cover. The informant gasped for air. “Go,” he rasped. “They were waiting for us.”
Rizal clenched his jaw. “I’m not leaving you.”
More bullets whizzed past. Tat-tat-tat!
Ucok cursed. “We won’t survive a shootout here. We need an exit—now!”
Spotting an opening, Rizal hoisted Damar up. “Ucok, cover us!”
They sprinted towards Rizal’s motorbike, Ucok laying down suppressing fire. Bang! Bang! The gunfire finally ceased as they sped off into the night.
They reached an old warehouse where Rizal and Ucok often laid low. Damar was pale, sweat dripping down his face.
Ucok grabbed the first-aid kit. “Damn it, Damar, stay with us.”
Damar coughed. “You… owe me.”
Rizal applied pressure to the wound. “Who set us up?”
Damar’s eyelids fluttered. “Someone… close to Adi…”
His breathing slowed.
Rizal’s chest tightened. “Damar! Stay awake!”
But Damar had lost consciousness.
Ucok sighed. “We need a doctor.”
Rizal’s mind raced. Whoever had set them up knew about their meeting. That meant Adi had moles everywhere.
And if Adi knew they were coming…
It was only a matter of time before he made the first move.
The hunt had officially begun.

Related Chapters
Cold-Blooded Barista BLOODY TRACKS
Damar was still unconscious on the warehouse floor, his breathing shallow. Rizal pressed a rag against the wound in the man's stomach while Ucok paced back and forth, biting the tip of an unlit cigarette."We need a doctor," Ucok said.Rizal nodded, but his mind was racing for a solution. They couldn't take Damar to a hospital—it was too risky. The police were likely looking for them, and even worse, Adi's men were probably already hunting them down."Do you know a trustworthy doctor?" Rizal asked.Ucok scratched his head. "I know one. But you won't like it."Rizal frowned. "Who?"Ucok sighed heavily. "Dr. Sinta."Rizal raised an eyebrow. "Your ex?"Ucok winced. "My ex who swore she'd shoot me in the head if I ever asked for her help again."Rizal smirked. "Great. Let's go see her."They stopped at a small building on the outskirts of town, nestled between a closed grocery store and a still-busy coffee stall. The clinic looked modest, with a flickering neon sign above the door that re
Cold-Blooded Barista COFFEE, BULLETS, AND BETRAYAL
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
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—
Cold-Blooded Barista A DANGEROUS MEETING
Rizal stood in front of the rundown building, its old sign barely hanging. The flickering neon light cast an eerie glow, making the place look even more desolate. This hotel used to be a luxurious spot for the rich, but now it was nothing more than a rat-infested hideout for shady dealings.Ucok and Damar stood behind him."I still don’t like this," Ucok muttered, crossing his arms."Yeah, this is obviously a trap," Damar added, his eyes scanning the surroundings.Rizal smirked. "If it's a trap, we just have to make sure we’re the ones walking out alive."He stepped inside. The scent of dust and rotting wood filled his nostrils. The empty lobby had only an old reception desk with a rusted bell on top.TING!Rizal pressed the bell, and its chime echoed through the empty hall.Footsteps echoed down the staircase. Maya appeared, wearing the same red dress as before. "Right on time. I like a man who’s punctual."Rizal narrowed his eyes. "Where’s Adi?"Maya nodded toward the old elevator i
Cold-Blooded Barista NO TURNING BACK
The black SUV screeched to a halt in front of an old warehouse. Rizal, Ucok, and Damar jumped out, their adrenaline still pumping from the gunfight at the hotel. The smell of rust and damp concrete filled the air. A few of Rizal’s men were already waiting, armed and alert."Did anyone follow us?" Rizal asked, scanning the area."No, we lost them on the highway," one of the men replied.Ucok let out a deep breath. "Good. That was too close."Damar walked toward the wooden crate in the center of the warehouse. "So what’s next, Zal? Adi won’t just sit back and let us walk away."Rizal smirked and pulled a folded blueprint from his jacket. "Exactly. That’s why we’re going to hit him before he hits us."Rizal spread the blueprint on top of the crate, revealing a detailed map of Adi’s operations."This is Adi’s main money source—his underground casino," Rizal pointed at a red-marked building. "It’s hidden under a nightclub downtown. Every week, millions flow through it. If we take it out, w
Cold-Blooded Barista THE LAST CUP
Rizal tightened his gloves as the car sped toward Adi’s hideout—a high-end restaurant that doubled as a meeting place for the city’s most dangerous criminals. The neon sign flickered above the entrance, reflecting off the rain-slicked pavement."Last chance to back out," Damar muttered, checking his gun.Ucok snorted. "Back out? This is the fun part."Rizal smirked. "Let’s give Adi a proper send-off."They pulled up to the restaurant. Two guards stood at the entrance, watching them closely.Ucok stepped out first. "We’re here to see Adi."One of the guards raised an eyebrow. "He’s not expecting you."Rizal stepped forward. "He will want to."The guard hesitated, then pressed an earpiece. A moment later, he nodded. "Fine. No weapons."Ucok chuckled. "Yeah, sure."He handed over his pistol—then swiftly grabbed the guard’s wrist and twisted.CRACK!The man screamed as his wrist snapped, but before he could react, Rizal elbowed him in the jaw—THUD!The other guard fumbled for his gun, bu
Cold-Blooded Barista The Final Roast
Inside his small café, Rizal stared at the steaming cup of black coffee on the table. The aroma was sharp, bitter, and slightly burning—much like his life at the moment. It had been a week since Adi’s death, yet instead of peace, a new wave of threats had begun to rise.Ucok walked in briskly, holding a crumpled piece of paper. "You need to see this, bro," he said, placing it on Rizal’s table.Rizal read it quickly. A short message from his informant: "He’s still alive. And he’s coming for you."Damar, who was sitting near the coffee machine, raised an eyebrow. "Who’s ‘he’?"Ucok let out a long sigh before answering, "Fajar."The name made Rizal fall silent. Fajar was Adi’s right-hand man, a ruthless enforcer who was thought to be dead after a raid. If he was still alive, it meant the fight wasn’t over."Are you sure this isn’t a trap?" Rizal asked, taking a sip of his coffee.Ucok shook his head. "This guy doesn’t play games. He’s already taken over some of Adi’s remaining men. And h
Cold-Blooded Barista A New Aroma in the City
Morning at Rizal’s café felt calmer than usual. After the fierce battle against Fajar, crime in the city seemed to have subsided. But in this world, peace was often just an illusion before a new storm arrived.Ucok sat at the bar, stirring his coffee while reading the newspaper. "Bro, did you know? Since Fajar fell, a lot of small gangs have started fighting over territory. They think this city is up for grabs without a ruler."Damar, who was sharpening a small knife, smirked. "That means there’s going to be trouble again."Rizal took a slow sip of his coffee. "There’s always trouble. But this time, we’re no longer the main players. We’re just baristas."Ucok chuckled. "Yeah, baristas who can kill people with a coffee spoon."Kling!The bell above the door rang. A stranger walked in, wearing a gray suit with confident steps. From the way he scanned the room, Rizal knew this man wasn’t an ordinary customer.The man sat at the front table, then locked eyes with Rizal. "Espresso. Black.
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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
THE ECHO OF SCARS
The car crawled along the narrow lane near the old harbor. The windows were sealed shut, the air inside feeling heavier than usual. In the rearview mirror, Nova saw the shadow of a dark sedan—still tailing them since the old district.“I’ve counted, it’s the third time it’s turned when we did,” Nova murmured, her eyes glued to the rearview mirror.SHUFFLE! Ucok, in the passenger seat, shifted restlessly. “That’s the third car since we ditched the warehouse. They’re not cops. But they’re not small fry either.”“Kairos?” Rizal asked from the back.“Could be. But if it is him, then he already knows all our routes,” Nova replied softly.Maya, in the back, her eyes sharp on the phone screen displaying a map. “We’re looping back to the old port road. If they’re still following, it’s no coincidence.”“Back then,” Nova said while driving, “every move of the big cartels always used codes. But Kairos... he uses symbols.”Ucok turned his head. “Symbols?”Nova nodded. “He sends warnings through o
Midnight Siege
Drip... drip... drip...The leaky pipe's water droplets echoed in the underground room, now a makeshift prison. The damp smell mixed with the clinic's failing perfume, unable to mask the scent of iron and sweat.Clack. Clack. Clack.Someone's footsteps approached, high heels hitting the floor like the relentless ticking of a countdown.Ucok sat leaning against the wall, his breath shallow. "If this is a dream, please wake me up with fried chicken."Nova glanced at Rizal, who was still staring at the dead screen where Kaspar's face had appeared moments before. "Bro... that voice earlier. Could it be...?"Rizal's fist clenched. "I don't know. But we have to get out of here before they—"BRAAAK!!The metal door burst open with a deafening slam. Two armed guards entered. Their rifles clicked ominously as they cocked them."Get up. Your time is up," one of them said in a flat tone.Ucok stood up with his hands raised. "Okay, okay, don't shoot. I'm still a virgin!"The guard frowned. "We do
Identity
Ucok stood staring at the cracked bathroom mirror. His eyes were red, not from crying, but from lack of sleep and an overdose of durian-flavored instant coffee that somehow still existed. Behind the door, Nova had knocked twice."Cok, what have you been doing in there? Don't tell me you're brushing your teeth with Three Legs toothpaste again.""This is important, Nov. I'm reflecting on life," Ucok replied, opening the door slowly while still looking at the mirror. "You know, sometimes... I'm suspicious of myself."Nova glanced down. "Are you wearing your underwear on the outside again?""Reflection, not superhero cosplay, lah!"In the living room, Maya, Rizal, and Nova spread out a digital map they got from Karim's flash drive. Data on money flow, weapon caches, and escape routes. Everything branched out to one name: SARKA."The only way into this organization... is through an insider," Maya said.Rizal chimed in, "And the only person who knows their communication methods... is the tr
