24 HOURS BEFORE
The rain had yet to fall when Kenzo first spotted him.
Daniel Wijaya sat hunched over a plastic table at a dimly lit street food stall, his face illuminated by the flickering neon sign above. The scent of grilled satay and steaming rice drifted through the humid night air, mingling with the cigarette smoke curling lazily from his fingers. His eyes darted around, the paranoia of a hunted man evident in every movement.
Kenzo, Audrey, Hana, and Damian watched from the shadows, their presence unseen by the world that still belonged to the living.
"That's him," Audrey murmured, her gaze locked onto the exhausted officer. Her gift told her what she needed to know—Daniel was on the edge, his conscience battling his fear. But more importantly, he still had the will to fight for justice.
Hana cracked her knuckles. "So, what's the plan? Knock him out, drag him to the hideout, and convince him later?"
"Or we could just talk to him like normal people," Kenzo interjected dryly.
Damian smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"
Audrey shot them both a look before stepping forward. "We do this my way."
With that, she made her way towards Daniel, the others following close behind. The moment Kenzo pulled out a chair and sat across from the officer, Daniel tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his concealed weapon.
"Relax," Kenzo said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "We're not here to hurt you. If we were, you wouldn't have seen us coming."
Daniel's fingers hesitated over the grip of his gun. His eyes darted from Kenzo to Audrey, then to the others. "Then what the hell do you want?"
Audrey leaned forward, her voice steady. "The truth, Officer Wijaya. The real truth. Not the one your superiors are trying to erase."
Daniel exhaled sharply. He had spent years navigating the filth of the police force, but nothing could have prepared him for the abyss he had stepped into. Rudi Santoso was only a piece of the puzzle—there were far bigger players orchestrating the corruption.
"And why should I trust you?" Daniel asked, his voice laced with doubt. "For all I know, you're just another group trying to use me."
Audrey met his gaze without hesitation. "Because you still believe in justice. You haven't given up yet."
Daniel's breath hitched. "What makes you think that?"
"We see things others don't," Kenzo cut in. "We know you're not like them. You joined the force to make a difference, but you realized too late how deep the rot goes. And now you're stuck, trying to do the right thing in a system that rewards the worst of them."
Daniel swallowed hard, the weight of his decisions pressing against his chest. "You don't understand what you're asking of me. If I go against them, I'm as good as dead."
Kenzo leaned back, studying the man before him. He recognized that fear—the kind that came when someone stood at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to fall or fight.
"I know exactly how you feel," Kenzo said quietly. "I used to be a journalist. An investigative one. I uncovered things I wasn't supposed to. A human trafficking network run by the people who were supposed to protect us. I was going to publish my findings, expose every last one of them."
Daniel frowned. "What happened?"
Kenzo gave a bitter smile. "They silenced me. I was attacked. Left to die. By the time I woke up, I wasn't the same anymore."
Daniel's grip on his cigarette tightened. "And yet you're still fighting?"
Kenzo nodded. "Because someone has to."
Silence stretched between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, Daniel ran a hand down his face, exhaling heavily.
"You're asking me to throw my life away," he muttered.
"No," Audrey corrected. "We're asking you to help us make sure those bastards don't ruin more lives. And we won't let them get to you."
Daniel let out a humorless chuckle. "You sound awfully confident."
Damian grinned. "We have a habit of surviving the impossible."
Kenzo leaned in. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you want to fight back, we can give you the tools to do it."
Daniel looked at each of them in turn. He saw something in their eyes—something he hadn't seen in years. Conviction. Purpose.
For the first time in a long time, Daniel Wijaya saw hope.
He stubbed out his cigarette, his jaw set. "Alright. I'll do it. I'll help you expose them."
Audrey nodded. "Then we start tonight."
The first step was securing Daniel's safety. Hana wiped any digital trace that could lead back to him, erasing his existence from police databases. Damian ensured he had a secure hideout. Audrey planned the strategy while Kenzo worked on gathering evidence to bring their enemies down.
As the night stretched on, they pieced together the final steps of their plan.
By the time the sun began to rise, Daniel Wijaya was no longer just a fugitive.
He was a soldier in their war.
And war was coming.
PRESENT TIME
From their hideout, Audrey, Kenzo, Hana, and Damian watched as the news cycle exploded. The footage of Rudi Hartanto's crime had already ignited a firestorm, but now, they needed to ensure it burned everything down to its corrupt roots.
Kenzo adjusted his glasses, his fingers flying over the keyboard, analyzing the latest media trends. "The momentum is perfect," he muttered. "We have to act now, before they find a way to spin this back in their favor."
Hana, seated beside him, leaned against the desk, her arms crossed. "What's the next step?"
Audrey's gaze was sharp, her mind weaving the intricate threads of their strategy. "We take this to a public trial. Not just Rudi. We expose the entire system that allowed him to exist."
Damian smirked, cracking his knuckles. "And let the whole world see them squirm? I like it."
"Then we need to make sure the victim's family gets the right support," Audrey continued. "Kenzo, did you find them a lawyer?"
Kenzo nodded, sliding a file across the table. "A high-profile human rights attorney. He's been fighting cases like this for years. Funds have already been funneled anonymously to secure his services."
Hana raised an eyebrow. "You're getting good at this whole secret mastermind thing."
Kenzo shrugged. "It's just data. People leave trails everywhere; you just have to know where to look."
Audrey turned to Damian. "And what about survivors? Anyone willing to testify?"
Damian pulled up a list on his phone. "More than a few. People who lost their families, got beaten, falsely accused... They've been silenced for years. But now? They're ready to talk."
A slow smile spread across Audrey's face. "Then let's give them a platform."
The city was restless.
It started as a whisper—small voices murmuring in the shadows, questioning the system that had protected monsters for too long. But the whisper grew, turned into murmurs, then to shouts, and finally, to an uproar that could not be ignored. The world was watching now, and the reckoning had begun.
In the heart of the storm stood three names: Inspector Rudi, Commissioner Bima, and Commissioner Arief.
Rudi was the attack dog, the enforcer of brutality. He orchestrated beatings, false arrests, and planted evidence, ensuring that those who opposed his masters were crushed before they could rise.
Commissioner Bima, a man who had built his empire on bribery and intimidation, was the architect of the corruption within the force. His hands never touched the crime directly, but he ensured the gears of injustice kept turning.
And then there was Arief. Calculating, ruthless, and far more dangerous than the rest. He was the strategist, the one who knew how to keep the public blind and the politicians obedient. If Rudi was the executioner, Arief was the mastermind.
Now, their world was burning.
The press conference was held in the largest hall in the city, packed with reporters, activists, and government officials. The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of history pressing down on every word spoken.
At the center of it all sat the victim's parents, their faces worn with grief yet burning with determination. Their lawyer, a man with silver hair and sharp eyes, spoke with unwavering conviction.
"For too long, the people of this country have lived under the shadow of unchecked power. Today, we stand here not just for our son, but for every victim who never received justice. We demand a public trial. We demand accountability."
The hall erupted in applause, the voices of the people rising like a tidal wave.
In a hidden corner, Audrey and her team watched.
"They're listening," Hana murmured.
"They have to," Audrey replied. "For once, they can't turn away."
As the trial proceedings were pushed forward, Kenzo continued unearthing damning evidence. Rudi's bank accounts, his connections to high-ranking officials, the bribes—everything was laid bare.
Kenzo sat before a screen filled with spreadsheets, transaction records, and confidential emails that had been decrypted by Hana. Each document was a nail in the coffin of a corrupt empire that had thrived for too long.
"His credibility is gone," Kenzo reported. "Even his allies are abandoning ship. He's a sinking liability now. But we're not stopping at him."
He pulled up another folder—one filled with financial transactions linking Commissioner Bima and Arief to offshore accounts. Bribes, hush money, and evidence laundering. Every single payment led back to names that had, until now, remained untouchable.
"Here's the smoking gun," Kenzo said, enlarging a document. "This is a signed authorization from Bima, ordering fabricated charges on a journalist who tried to expose their operations years ago. Cross-reference this with the case files of missing reporters, and we've got proof that they've been eliminating threats to their empire."
Hana whistled lowly. "This isn't just corruption. This is systemic murder. They built an entire machine to silence anyone who got too close."
Kenzo nodded, already setting up the secure drop sites. "We'll send the documents anonymously to investigative journalists and anti-corruption watchdogs. This isn't just about the trial anymore. This is about burning down the entire system."
Damian smirked. "Guess they don't like getting burned."
Hana, ever pragmatic, remained wary. "Cornered animals fight back. Expect retaliation."
Audrey's expression darkened. "Let them come. We'll be ready."
The Survivors Speak
The courtroom was silent as Sari and Darman, Raka's parents, took the stand. Their grief was palpable, a raw wound laid bare for all to see. Sari clutched a worn photograph of her son, her fingers trembling as she held it close to her chest.
"My son, Raka, was everything to us," she began, her voice thick with sorrow. "He was our only child. Our pride. Our joy. And in a single night, he was stolen from us by a man who was supposed to protect him."
Darman, a man who had spent his entire life providing for his family, struggled to contain his emotions. His lips quivered as he spoke. "If only... If only Rudi had taken him to the hospital after the accident, Raka could have survived. He was still breathing. He still had a chance."
Sari's tears fell freely now. "But instead of helping him, he finished what the accident started. He killed my son. He made sure there was no hope left for us."
The audience murmured, the weight of their words pressing down like a storm. Even the judge looked away for a moment, as if trying to compose himself.
The family's lawyer stepped forward, his expression hardened with righteous fury. "Let's lay out the truth, shall we?" he began, his voice cutting through the courtroom like a blade. He turned to the jury, his words heavy with conviction. "On the night of Raka's death, Inspector Rudi Hartanto was driving under the influence. He hit Raka with his car—an accident, yes, but one that could have been corrected with a single act of decency. Raka was alive. He was in pain, but he could have been saved."
The lawyer's gaze darkened. "But Rudi didn't take him to the hospital. Instead, he panicked. He saw a loose end, a risk. And so, he made a choice." The lawyer paused for a heartbeat, letting the words sink in. "He ended Raka's life with his own hands."
Gasps filled the courtroom. The air grew heavier as the jury shifted in their seats, their faces clouded with horror.
"But this goes deeper than one man's crime." The lawyer's voice grew sharper. "To cover up what he had done, Rudi Hartanto didn't act alone. He reached out to the people who ensure men like him never face justice—Commissioner Bima and Commissioner Arief. These two men orchestrated the suppression of evidence, tampered with reports, and threatened witnesses. They made sure the case never saw the light of day. Because in their world, protecting their own is more important than justice."
The lawyer strode toward the evidence table, lifting a stack of documents. "These are bank records showing illegal transactions—bribes paid to silence key witnesses. These are confidential memos instructing officers to bury the case. And these—" he held up a crumpled police report "—are the original findings from the night of Raka's murder. The findings that were altered to protect a guilty man."
He turned back to the judge. "This is the reality of our system. A system that rewards the corrupt and punishes the innocent. A system that let these men believe they could get away with murder." He slammed the documents onto the table. "But no more."
The courtroom erupted. Reporters whispered furiously into their phones, officials exchanged panicked glances, and in the back, a group of victims' families clutched each other's hands, their eyes brimming with emotion.
In the defendant's section, Inspector Rudi stared at the floor. His fingers clenched into fists, his breathing shallow. He could not bring himself to look at Sari and Darman—to look at the parents whose child he had stolen, to look at the people he had wronged.
His whole life, he had believed himself untouchable. He had always thought there would be a way out, a loophole, a higher-up to pull him back to safety. But this time, there was no escape.
He was drowning.
Beside him, Commissioner Bima's face twisted with fury. "Those bastards," he hissed under his breath. His fingers curled tightly into the wooden table. "Who the hell leaked this?"
Arief, usually the calmest of the three, was livid. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth nearly cracked. He turned to Rudi, his voice a venomous whisper. "You idiot. I told you to handle this."
Rudi didn't respond. His ears rang, his heartbeat a dull thud in his chest. He knew he had sealed his fate the moment he had pressed his hands against Raka's throat. And now, the walls were closing in.
Bima's hand slammed against the table, drawing startled looks from those nearby. "This isn't over," he growled. "We're not going down like this."
But Rudi didn't hear them anymore. He barely registered their anger, their schemes. He was trapped in his own mind, reliving the moment he had snuffed out an innocent life. The moment he had become irredeemable.
For the first time in his life, Inspector Rudi Hartanto had no words.
And for the first time, he knew what it felt like to be truly powerless.