2025-03-08 01:09:57
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Cold-Blooded Barista Setting the Trap
The cold night air seeped through the cracks of the warehouse, mixing with the scent of blood and gunpowder. Rizal sat on an old crate, methodically reloading his gun. Across from him, Maya lay on a makeshift bed of torn blankets, her wound wrapped tightly with bandages. Her breathing was steady but weak.“You need rest,” Rizal said without looking up.Maya smirked. “And you need a plan.”Rizal didn’t argue. Viktor’s retaliation had come fast and brutal. Their safehouse was gone. Sergei was dead, but that was just a start. The real threat—Viktor—was still out there, and he wouldn’t stop until Rizal and Maya were both buried six feet under.Maya shifted slightly, wincing at the pain. “We hit his docks. He hit us back. What’s next?”Rizal leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We take the fight to him.”She raised an eyebrow. “You mean walk straight into Viktor’s den?”Rizal smirked. “Not walk. Burn it to the ground.”The Ivory Club was one of the most exclusive spots in Jakarta. A front
Cold-Blooded Barista The Lion's Den
The front gate lay open, blood pooling around the fallen guards. Rizal and Maya moved swiftly, their boots barely making a sound on the gravel pathway leading to the main house.Inside, chaos erupted. The gunfire at the gate had set off alarms. More guards poured into the corridors, their rifles raised.BANG! BANG! BANG!Maya ducked behind a marble pillar, firing with deadly precision. Rizal rolled across the floor, avoiding a burst of automatic fire before landing a clean headshot on a charging enemy.The villa was a maze of luxury and violence. Crystal chandeliers hung above blood-stained floors. Expensive paintings lined walls riddled with bullet holes.“Where’s Viktor?” Maya shouted over the gunfire.Rizal reloaded his weapon. “Top floor. His office.”More guards approached. Rizal grabbed a flashbang, pulled the pin, and tossed it down the hallway.BOOM!The explosion of light and sound disoriented the enemies. Rizal and Maya advanced, taking them down before they could recover.A
Cold-Blooded Barista The Aftermath
The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a dull orange glow over the city. Rizal and Maya stood on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, watching the smoke billow from Viktor’s burning villa in the distance. The smell of gasoline and gunpowder still clung to their clothes.Maya took a deep breath. “That was intense.”Rizal exhaled slowly. “It’s not over.”Maya gave him a sideways glance. “Viktor’s dead. His men are wiped out. What else is there?”Rizal clenched his fists. “Power vacuums don’t stay empty for long. His rivals will move in. And then there’s—” He stopped himself.Maya frowned. “What?”Rizal hesitated, then turned to her. “You should leave the city.”Maya laughed. “That’s funny. You think I’m just gonna walk away after all this?”“It’s not about that,” Rizal said. “Whoever comes next… they’ll be worse. More ruthless. And if they find out you were involved in Viktor’s downfall, they’ll come after you.”Maya’s smirk faded. “And what about you?”“I still have unfinished bus
Cold-Blooded Barista The Devil’s Gambit
The gunshot rang through the room like a thunderclap.Rizal dove sideways, flipping the table as cover just as Johan’s shot barely missed his head. Glass shattered, whiskey spilled, and the room exploded into chaos.BANG! BANG!Rizal fired twice, forcing Johan to duck behind a cabinet. The smell of gunpowder filled the air."You really wanna do this, Riz?!" Johan shouted, his voice laced with amusement.Rizal reloaded. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”A chuckle. “Then come and get me.”Rizal knew Johan wasn’t stupid. He was playing for time. Reinforcements were probably already on their way. If Rizal didn’t finish this fast, he’d be walking into a death trap.His eyes flicked to the chandelier above Johan’s hiding spot. One clean shot, and it would come crashing down.CRACK!Rizal pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through the chain.CRASH!The massive chandelier plummeted, shattering into a thousand glass shards. Johan barely rolled away in time, cursing as he staggered t
Cold-Blooded Barista Firefight in the Warehouse
The dust hadn't even settled when Rizal burst through the ruined doorway, twin pistols blazing.BANG! BANG! BANG!The first thug dropped before he could even react, his body hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. The others scrambled for cover, overturning crates and barrels, but Rizal was already moving, weaving between shadows like a phantom.Maya clenched her fists, still bound to the chair. The moment she saw Rizal, a mix of relief and adrenaline surged through her veins."You're late," she muttered.Rizal smirked, ducking behind a stack of wooden pallets. "Traffic."The remaining thugs opened fire. Bullets tore through crates, sending splinters flying. Rizal rolled forward, firing mid-movement—BANG! BANG!Another thug collapsed.The last man standing grabbed Maya, pressing the gun harder against her head."Enough!" he shouted. "Drop your weapons, or I swear I'll—"THWIP!A blade whizzed through the air.The thug froze, eyes wide. He let out a choked gasp as blood dripped f
Cold-Blooded Barista Crashing the Party
The safe house was tucked away in a quiet corner of Jakarta, hidden behind an old auto repair shop. From the outside, it looked abandoned—just another forgotten piece of the city’s underbelly. Inside, however, it was a fully stocked operations center.Rizal flicked on the lights, revealing a cluttered room filled with maps, weapons, and surveillance monitors. Maya let out a low whistle."Not bad," she said, tossing her wet jacket onto a chair. "You always have a place like this ready?"Rizal smirked. "Occupational hazard."He moved to the main table, plugging the flash drive into a laptop. The screen flickered, revealing encrypted files.Maya leaned in. "What exactly are we looking at?"Rizal typed rapidly, bypassing the security. A list of names, locations, and financial transactions appeared."This is Johan’s operation," Rizal said. "Money laundering, smuggling, political bribes—you name it. Everything he’s done is in here."Maya frowned. "And you think this is enough to take him do
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
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