"I want you to kneel in front of me, lick my shoes too," said the young man whose forehead was taped with bandages. Santiago rolled his eyes in the direction that had spoken. "Kneeling doesn't fill me up." "You poor bastard!" "You trash mouth!" Santiago, usually called San, winced when a punch landed on his stomach. This is already the fifteenth blow. There's no point in counting the forces, but every single one that lands on his body adds one more realization that San is about to greet the angel of death. He is in an abandoned warehouse, deserted and dimly lit, which may be his final resting place. It wasn't funny, but San laughed when he thought about it. "Boss, I think he's gone mad." It was the voice of the bald man. As he was affectionately called, his tiny head was bald, without a single strand of hair. He had been busy holding San's arm, keeping watch so the young man would not run away when his Boss was judging him. The figure who had been called Boss was kneeling on on
The girl San meant at that time was his junior. He was sure of it. However, he felt that it was his first time seeing her then. So, he relied on his memory of the girl with short curly hair, relatively short in stature, maybe up to her upper arm. He has pale skin and wears glasses. "You mean Molly?" "Molly?" San asked one of his acquaintances, who were also his junior. "Yes, Maybe." "Wait a minute, I know her close friend. I'll call first." San waited in front of the class, leaning against the wall close to the door. He stared at the cellphone screen that was already cracked at the top. There was a message from his uncle; the person said San had to come home with side dishes this afternoon because the uncle's wife was reluctant to cook. San just stared at the message without replying. Today alone he does not know whether to go home or not. He has to work extra overtime to pay the compensation that Gio's parents have asked for. His savings have been drained because his uncle was s
When San woke up with a very, very dizzy head, he blinked several times while adjusting the light that seemed to attack his eyes. Strange place. San was sure that this was a place he had never been before. Rising from the position he was lying on the hard surface, he glanced around. He just realized that there was someone else beside him, and at that moment, he realized something. "Why am I here?" "Oh, you've realized?" said the crew-cut man with a long scar running down his right cheek. "Sir-" San called as he approached with a shuffle. The young man's gaze began to panic. He hoped this was just a dream. It doesn't make sense, and it doesn't make sense. As far as he could remember, it was in front of his younger brother's house. Why is he suddenly behind bars? San was about to ask again, but a guard came and called out. San was confused, and even when he was dragged outside, he could only surrender. Now he is in a room with dimmer lighting, more isolated because all the walls a
Not only the young man who came Gio's parents were also there. They smiled at San, who was still in shock. "Hello, Santiago!" Gio waved. "I know you're shocked—oh, my goodness, you've had such a miserable life, haven't you." His smile was sad, but one could see no sincerity in it. San stood up, approached the bars, and gripped the cold iron with burning anger. Her reddened eyes turned to the figure that was still smiling. "So you made me here?" Gio raised his hands to his ears. "Wait, wait! Why me?" San was about to reply but stopped when a grown man approached him. That face is not foreign to San's eyes because it has often been seen on television in the last few days and has become the subject of hot discussion. That person is Anthony Wibisono, Gio's father and candidate for mayor. A police officer approached the cell and opened it after a glance from Anthony. "Let's talk for a moment," said the man wearing a formal suit to San, who looked confused. San was taken to the inter
Evidence? He went to the girl's house as well to prove that he was not wrong. He wanted to ask his junior to testify in front of Gio's parents. However, what happened was that he ended up being slandered. Moreover, the content of slander could be more generous. San will be subject to multiple articles, and who knows how long the sentence he will receive later. The problem is San has no evidence or witnesses. He came to the girl's house alone. The attorney adjusted his slightly drooping glasses. "You know? In a case like this, the possibility of winning is slim." He continued after a long sigh. "The victim's family asks you to be punished as severely as possible." Victim's family? Thought San. That is true. Instead of the girl's family, why did Gio's parents come to him yesterday? "They are the girl's close relatives." The attorney seemed to understand what San was thinking. "What?" "You have already dealt with an important person in this city. Mr. Anthony is the most respected p
"It seems you two are not on good terms." His hands that, used to rub between his toes are now crossed in front of his chest.San chose not to answer."Ah, that's bad, it turns out.""Sir," San called. After receiving permission to continue, he asked, "Is life in prison that bad?""That's what you mean?""The worst of all bad things in this life.""Hm... maybe yes, maybe not." Pause for a moment. "Look, son. Our being in prison is a punishment. What kind of punishment do you think is fine?"But San is not being punished. What mistake did he make to have to live in prison? Was it because he was an orphan?"Life is... choice, right?" San said again after a long silence."Not all. Some things happen in this world because they have to happen. Without any natural choice from humans." The person touched his chin and looked up. "Hm... like we were born to our parents. It wasn't a choice. It was destiny."San chuckled lightly. This guy is pretty intelligent, too, he thought. He thought a vill
Prosecutors don't only bring in witnesses to the crime that San is accused of. The man in the red heart robe brings evidence that he is somehow related to San.A baseball bat, a kitchen knife with the victim's blood on it, and San's fingerprints. His background was opened up to his uncle's family upbringing."From the testimony of residents, Santiago often gets bad treatment from his uncle. He often sleeps outside the house because his uncle doesn't answer the door after Santiago works part-time.""Even on the campus where Santiago studied, he is known as a private person," added the Prosecutor. "Your Honor, this pattern often occurs in perpetrators of violence. The absence of supervision from parents or guardians, living as an orphan, and being mistreated by relatives—could be a trigger for the defendant's crimes."Among the reporters watching the trial, one lawyer seemed to notice what was happening. Vera seemed to jot down something in her notebook."The prosecutor is very cunning,
That night, Gio was summoned by Anthony to the study. The young man's heart was pounding wildly. Nevertheless, he tried to stay calm by taking deep breaths. In the room, there was already the dashing figure of his father sitting in a swivel chair. "Dad," Gio called after standing right in front of his father's desk. "Is this how you should behave?" Cold, deep, and intimidating. "Dad—" "Stop messing around, Gio. I'm sick of your attitude!" This time with a slightly higher intonation. His head was lowered, his hands clasped in front of his body. "Sorry," he said quietly, a little choked up. "Watch your attitude while I'm still campaigning—can't you follow your brother's example, huh?!" The man exhaled roughly. "Don't just hide behind your mother's back! Make me a little proud, and don't regret having a son like you, Gio." His molars collided, and his gaze, which was initially afraid, now turned dark and hateful. Gio hates being compared like this, but he can't hate the figure tha