The rain drummed relentlessly against the rooftop of Rudi Hartanto's house, a steady percussion that matched the pounding in his skull. The small, dimly lit living room felt suffocating, the air thick with an unspoken tension. His wife, Nadya, stood across from him, arms folded tightly across her chest. Her eyes, once warm and full of admiration, now burned with disbelief and disgust.
"Tell me it's not true, Rudi," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "Tell me they're lying. Tell me you didn't—"
Rudi exhaled, running a hand over his tired face. His body ached from exhaustion, from stress, from the weight of the world pressing down on him. "I… I didn't mean for it to happen this way."
"Didn't mean?" Nadya's voice cracked, her composure fracturing like shattered glass. "An innocent boy is dead, Rudi! The entire country is screaming for your blood! How could you—how could you do something like this?"
Rudi's jaw clenched. "You don't understand, Nadya. There's more to it than what they're showing. It's not that simple."
Nadya let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Not that simple? Our son came home crying today because no one in his school wants to be his friend. Do you know what the other parents are saying? That his father is a murderer. A monster. Do you have any idea what this is doing to us?"
Guilt twisted in Rudi's gut. He had seen the headlines, the endless tirade of accusations, the footage replaying on every screen. He had tried to ignore the social media outrage, the vitriol that spilled into his personal life like poison. But nothing had prepared him for this. For the way his wife looked at him now—as if he were a stranger.
"I'll fix this," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Nadya scoffed, her eyes red with unshed tears. "Fix it? Rudi, this isn't a parking ticket you can make disappear. This is murder. Do you even regret it?"
Something inside him snapped. "Of course I do!" he barked, stepping forward. "But what do you want me to do, Nadya? Roll over and die? Let them tear me apart? I did what I had to do!"
"What you had to do?" she repeated, her voice shaking. "If you really believe that, then I don't know who you are anymore."
The silence that followed was deafening. Rudi swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides. He reached out, but Nadya stepped back, her expression resolute.
"I can't protect you from this," she said softly. "And I won't."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Rudi alone with the rain and his demons.
The heavy scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the dimly lit office, curling in lazy spirals toward the ceiling. Commissioner Arief Kusuma sat behind his mahogany desk, his fingers drumming an erratic rhythm against the polished surface. His face, usually a mask of unshakable authority, was now marred with tension. Across from him, Commissioner Bima paced like a caged animal, his broad frame barely fitting within the confines of the room. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he might snap a tooth.
"This is bad, Arief," Bima muttered, running a hand through his graying hair. "No, this is beyond bad. We have protestors breathing down our necks, social media in flames, and now..." He slammed a stack of papers onto the desk, his nostrils flaring. "Now, there are whispers. People are starting to dig."
Arief exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "We knew this was a risk when we let Rudi operate the way he did. That idiot. I told him to keep a low profile, and instead, he executes a kid in broad daylight? What the hell was he thinking?"
"He wasn't thinking! That's the problem!" Bima spat. "And now the entire system is under a microscope. If we don't act fast, we're all going down with him."
Arief leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "We erase everything. Every document, every record that ties us to Rudi. Witnesses? They stay quiet, one way or another. We've done this before, we can do it again."
Bima frowned, the flickering light casting deep shadows on his face. "Are you sure? People are watching us now more than ever. And whoever leaked that footage—" He hesitated. "They're good."
"Then we find them." Arief's tone was final. "We find them and we end this before it destroys everything we've built."
From their hideout, Audrey, Kenzo, Hana, and Damian watched the chaos unfold. Screens flickered with live footage from hidden cameras, capturing every word exchanged in Arief's office. The tension was thick in their small command center, a converted abandoned apartment where technology and secrecy coexisted.
Kenzo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a lazy smirk. "Man, they're losing it. You can practically smell the desperation through the screen."
Damian snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. Look at Bima—dude's about two seconds away from throwing up. Reckless cops are my favorite kind of cops. They make our job so much easier."
Hana, seated on the windowsill, idly twirled a flash drive between her fingers. "Reckless also means dangerous. If they're panicking, they'll do anything to cover their tracks. We should expect them to get more aggressive."
Audrey, arms crossed, nodded. "They're no longer trying to contain this. They're just trying to survive. That makes them sloppy, and sloppy means we have an opportunity."
Kenzo clicked his tongue, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Agreed. Their response so far is textbook damage control—deny, deflect, discredit. But they're not even doing a good job at it anymore. This isn't just about the public losing faith in them. Some officers inside the force are starting to question their own bosses."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? We got rats jumping ship already?"
Kenzo grinned. "Something like that. Some officers are hesitant to follow orders now that the public's watching their every move. They know Bima and Arief are throwing bodies under the bus to save their own skins. We might be able to use that."
Audrey exchanged a glance with Hana before turning back to Kenzo. "And what about Daniel Wijaya? He's been unusually quiet through all of this."
Hana exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "Which means he's either keeping his head down... or waiting for the right moment."
Damian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You think he'd flip?"
Audrey's expression remained unreadable. "I think he's someone who doesn't want to be on the losing side. If we make it clear which way the tide is turning, he might just help us."
Kenzo leaned back, tapping his fingers against the desk. "He hasn't been covering for them, which is already saying something. But we need to be careful. If he's just playing both sides, this could backfire."
Hana smirked. "That's why we don't give him everything. Just enough to see where he stands."
Damian let out a dramatic sigh. "Man, I love a good betrayal arc. Hope he doesn't disappoint."
Kenzo rolled his eyes. "It's not a betrayal arc if he was never loyal to them in the first place."
Audrey shook her head, suppressing a small smile. "Focus. We need to push this to phase two. The police are scrambling, the public is angry, and the media is on fire. Now's the time to make sure this pressure doesn't fade. We have to keep it growing."
Kenzo cracked his knuckles. "Then it's time for a little more chaos. Let's make sure Bima and Arief don't get a second of peace."
Hana slid off the windowsill. "And let's see if Officer Daniel Wijaya is ready to pick a side."
Meanwhile, in a darkened alley, a man stood with shaking hands, a cigarette trembling between his fingers. Detective Daniel Wijaya had made his choice. He had leaked the files. He had exposed the corruption.
Now, he was running for his life.
A shadow loomed behind him. He turned, his breath hitching.
Hana stood there, hands in her pockets. "You did the right thing, Detective."
Daniel swallowed. "Then why does it feel like I'm about to die?"
"Because you were never meant to survive this," she replied calmly. "But don't worry. We'll make sure they never touch you."
Damian stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "And we'll make sure they pay for what they've done."
Daniel exhaled shakily. "What... what are you people?"
Kenzo smirked. "Justice. The real kind."
Daniel let out a dry chuckle, rubbing his temples. "Great. I just threw my career into a firepit and now I'm dealing with a bunch of vigilantes. Fantastic."
Audrey crossed her arms, amused. "Technically, you're dealing with the only people standing between you and a very unpleasant death. But hey, if you'd rather go it alone..."
Daniel sighed. "Yeah, no. I think I'll stick with you guys for now. So, do I get a cool code name or something?"
Hana smirked. "How about 'Trouble Magnet'?"
Damian clapped him on the shoulder. "I was thinking 'Dead Man Walking,' but I guess that's a little harsh."
Daniel groaned. "I regret everything."
Kenzo grinned, his voice turning serious. "Listen, we appreciate what you did. That took guts. And we don't let our allies fall. We've already set up a safehouse for you. No one knows you were the leak. As far as Arief and his people are concerned, you don't exist."
Daniel hesitated before nodding. "I hope you're right. Because if they find out..."
Audrey's voice was firm. "They won't. We made sure of it."
For the first time since the chaos began, Daniel let out a breath of relief. "Alright. What's next?"
Hana's eyes gleamed. "Now? Now we make sure Arief and his people burn."
Meanwhile, at his home, Rudi Hartanto sat in the darkness of his living room, staring at his trembling hands. The rain had long since stopped, but the chill in his bones remained. His phone buzzed beside him, but he didn't dare to pick it up. He knew what it was—more threats, more demands, more reminders that his world was closing in around him.
And in the police headquarters, Arief and Bima sat in their dim office, both staring at the screen before them. An anonymous message had appeared in their private network, a simple yet terrifying sentence:
"The truth always finds a way."
A cold sweat dripped down Bima's temple as he turned to Arief. "They're watching us. They're coming."
Arief clenched his fists. For the first time in his long career, he felt the unmistakable grip of fear.