2025-03-09 15:19:32
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Cold-Blooded Barista The Great Escape
BANG! BANG!Rizal flipped the bar table and ducked as bullets tore through the polished wood, sending splinters flying. Johan’s guards were quick, but Rizal was quicker. He reached for the gun tucked behind his waistband and—BLAM!One shot, clean to the shoulder of the nearest thug. The man spun back, groaning in pain.Rizal didn’t wait. He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the counter and hurled it—CRASH!It shattered against another guard’s face, sending him stumbling. In the chaos, Rizal bolted for the exit.Johan, still gripping his phone, barked orders. “DON’T LET HIM GET AWAY!”Maya yanked out the flash drive the moment the upload hit 100%. She stuffed it into her pocket, turned—and froze.A shadow loomed over her.The guard she had knocked out earlier was stirring, his fingers curling around his gun.Shit.Maya lunged forward. She kicked the gun out of his hand and swung a server panel like a baseball bat.WHAM!The man hit the ground again, this time for good.With no time to w
Cold-Blooded Barista No Rest for the Wicked
The motorcycle weaved through the dimly lit streets, dodging traffic as Rizal held on tightly. Maya sat behind him, gripping his waist, her breath still ragged from the adrenaline. The masked rider maneuvered with precision, cutting through alleyways and side streets until they finally stopped at an abandoned warehouse by the docks.VROOOOM… The engine died down.Rizal jumped off first, scanning their surroundings. “You gonna tell me who the hell you are?” he asked, turning toward the rider.The masked figure pulled off the helmet—revealing a familiar smirk.“Miss me, bro?”Rizal’s eyes widened. “Fikri?”Maya let out a breath of disbelief. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”Fikri, Rizal’s old partner-in-crime, grinned. “Relax. I’m not a ghost. But I did just save your ass.”Rizal shook his head. “I thought you were in Singapore.”Fikri leaned against the bike, arms crossed. “Was. Until I heard Johan was making a move on you.” His expression darkened. “Figured you could use some backup.”Ma
Cold-Blooded Barista Smoke and Shadows
The trio pulled into a rundown apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was secure. Rizal parked the car and exhaled slowly. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, leaving behind exhaustion and the stench of smoke.Fikri tossed his bag onto the couch. “Well, that went well.”Maya shot him a glare. “We almost died.”Fikri grinned. “Keyword: almost.”Rizal ignored their bickering and plugged the flash drive into his laptop. Lines of encrypted data scrolled across the screen. “Johan’s entire financial operation is on here,” he muttered.Maya peered over his shoulder. “Can you crack it?”Rizal smirked. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” He began typing furiously, bypassing layers of security. Within minutes, a spreadsheet appeared, revealing names, bank accounts, and offshore transactions.Fikri whistled. “That’s a lot of zeroes.”Maya frowned. “So what’s the plan? Leak this to the authorities?”Rizal shook his head. “No. We use it to bring Johan down on
Cold-Blooded Barista Striking Back
Rizal's fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes locked on Johan's financial records. Offshore accounts, shell companies, bribery transactions—everything was laid bare. He cracked a grin."This is it," he muttered.Maya and Fikri leaned in."What exactly are we looking at?" Maya asked."A roadmap to destroying Johan," Rizal replied. "His entire network relies on these funds. We bleed him dry, and he’s finished."Fikri chuckled. "I like the sound of that. But how?"Rizal tapped a few keys, opening a secure transaction system. "We siphon his money to charities, anonymous donations, and a few ghost accounts. He won’t be able to trace it back to us."Maya smirked. "Poetic justice. Stealing from a crime lord to help the people.""But we’ll need a distraction," Rizal added. "Something big."Fikri grinned and pulled a small C4 charge from his bag. "I thought you'd never ask."Johan stood by the window, looking over the city he controlled. His phone buzzed."Sir," a panicked voice came thro
Cold-Blooded Barista Storming the Lion’s Den
The city was quiet, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Rizal, Maya, and Fikri crouched behind a parked van near the entrance to Johan’s penthouse.“This place is locked down tight,” Maya whispered, eyeing the guards patrolling the perimeter.Fikri grinned, tossing a suppressed pistol between his hands. “Tight security means they’re scared.”Rizal scanned the building through a pair of binoculars. The top floors were lit. Johan was waiting.He exhaled. “We go in silent. No unnecessary firefights.”Fikri snorted. “I make no promises.”Rizal smirked. “Let’s move.”The trio moved swiftly, taking down two guards near the entrance without a sound. Rizal signaled Maya, and she hacked the security panel, shutting off the cameras for the lower floors.“We have ten minutes before backup systems kick in,” she whispered.Rizal nodded. “Let’s make them count.”They slipped inside, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.As soon as they stepped out of the stairwell, a bullet whizzed pas
Cold-Blooded Barista The Final Countdown
The countdown remained frozen at 0:15, but the bomb was still active.Maya slammed her fist on the desk. “The system override isn’t enough! Someone has to disarm it manually!”Rizal turned to her. “Where’s the bomb?”Maya swallowed hard. “Basement level.”Fikri groaned. “Of course it’s in the basement.”More gunfire erupted from the hallway. The last of Johan’s guards were still fighting, but their numbers were thinning.“We don’t have time to fight our way down,” Rizal said. “We take the emergency shaft.”Maya nodded. “Let’s move!”Rizal pried open the steel doors. Below them, darkness stretched for several stories.Fikri peered inside. “No cable car. Guess we’re climbing.”Rizal smirked. “No. We’re dropping.”Before Fikri could argue, Rizal grabbed a zipline hook from the emergency kit and latched it to the cable.Maya’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you’ve done this before.”Rizal grinned. “Nope.”Then he jumped.WHIZZ!He zipped down into the darkness.Fikri shook his head. “That
Cold-Blooded Barista A New Shadow
A single lamp illuminated the large mahogany desk, casting long shadows across the dimly lit office. The man sitting behind it leaned forward, fingers interlocked, as he stared at the phone that had just gone silent.Johan was dead.He took a deep breath, his expression unreadable. His men stood silently around the room, waiting for his response.After a long pause, he finally spoke.“Prepare everything,” he said in a calm yet commanding tone.His right-hand man, a lean figure with slicked-back hair, nodded. “Do you want us to hunt them down?”The man chuckled, shaking his head. “No rush. Let them think they’ve won.”A lighter flicked open with a soft click, and the end of his cigar glowed red as he inhaled deeply. Smoke curled around him like a ghostly veil.“They’ll soon realize,” he exhaled, “that every action has consequences.”The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Rizal stood behind the counter, tamping down espresso grounds with steady hands. Fikri sat at
Cold-Blooded Barista Trouble Arrives
Rizal was fiddling with his phone, searching for information about the group that was watching them. Maya sat with her arms crossed, while Fikri paced back and forth, looking stressed.Suddenly, the café door swung open violently.BANG!Ucok entered in style, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the carpet, and—THUD!He tumbled to the floor in a bizarre position, his legs stuck in a chair while his hands still clutched a plastic bag filled with martabak.“Ouch, man… Why is the world so cruel to me?” he groaned, still lying face down.Rizal, Maya, and Fikri just stared at him.Fikri whispered, “We’re in the middle of a serious crisis, trying to avoid getting killed, and this guy turns it into a circus.”Ucok quickly got up, sitting down in a mafia-like pose. “Don’t underestimate me, bro. I didn’t just come here to bring martabak. I came with information!”Maya raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”Ucok nodded confidently. “Yeah. I heard there’s a new gr
Latest Chapter
The Vertigo Agency
Jakarta hadn't recovered from the explosion at the international conference. The ruined building now stood as a silent monument: proof that VERTIGO wasn't just an underground organization—they were a rotten root growing from the very soil of the government.Ucok stared at the screen, his face more serious than usual. "I've cross-checked all the post-explosion aid logistics. There's a shadow company that was the supplier—the CEO's name... Arman Darsa."Nova moved closer. "Arman Darsa? Isn't he the chief commissioner of one of the state-owned logistics companies?"Ucok nodded. "And he went to the same military academy as Kaspar. They used to be partners."Rizal slammed his laptop shut. "We have a new target. And this time... we won't give him time to run."One week later – New headquarters, secret location beneath the Blok M MRT tunnelMaya projected data from her laptop onto the concrete wall. "Arman isn't just a supplier, but the operational mastermind of VERTIGO within the state. He
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