12 Badoets
Wolongten Nem

Pak Wito's car pulled over in front of the house with a banner that read 'Warung Pecel Mak Lastri'. There were 3 other cars parked around the pecel shop, but the atmosphere was quiet. The bodyguard with a scar on his face got out of the car first, then opened the door for his employer.

"It looks like Mak Lastri has some guests Boss," said the bodyguard.

"No problem. We just blend in, pretend to be a buyer" said Mr. Wito casually. The guards agreed.

Mr. Wito walked in front, followed by his bodyguards with firm steps without hesitation. Mak Lastri pecel stalls are often crowded buyers. Sambal pecelnya famous delicious with its savory roasted beans, as well as legit brown sugar and cayenne that makes the tongue stung. So, Mr. Wito did not feel surprised if today there are also many customers who visited the house of Mak Lastri.

Driver Pak Wito got out of the car, although he did not enter the house. He leaned on the front hood and lit the Saryu-branded cigarette. Sipping on the sweet part of the cork and exhaling the smoke of full combustion of nicotine. The drizzle is still down in a smooth spotted form.

A few minutes into the daydream, Mr. Wito's driver turned his eyes to a parked car not far from where he was standing. There was a red liquid on the sidewalk. The driver squinted, trying to see more clearly what the liquid was.

Overlooked by curiosity, finally Mr. Driver walked closer to the suspicious liquid. After being really close, then the maroon patches that began to fade in the afternoon rain that left a fine drizzle. The red liquid was on the pavement made from tiles just under the lush tree ketapang. Although the new heavy rain flushed, the liquid had not been swept away entirely.

"What'sthis? Blood?" Mr. Driver squatted down, touching the liquid with the tip of his index finger. The smell of rancid that made Mr. Driver sure the liquid was blood.

The driver circulated his gaze and found the car door handle in front of him also contained the same spot. Maroon red color scented pungent carnation. With irregular fingers.

Mr. Driver grabbed a handkerchief in his pants pocket. He is quite experienced, does not want to touch the handle of the suspicious car with his hands long**g. Slowly the car door opened and a male figure was seen in the back seat with his head covered in dar*h.

There was a breath visible from the chest that was puffing and deflating. The driver made sure the foreign man was still alive. At the same time Mr. Driver saw a shadow from the glass door of the car where the bloodstained man leaned.

An iron jack swung from behind. The driver was evasive. So that the head is saved even though the right shoulder is still hit by the shiny white iron. The driver fell down. He kicked blindly, before the second strike came. The right kick about the opponent. There was the sound of something falling and the sound of a loud whistling.

When Mr. Driver stood up and turned his head, in the dim light of the afternoon sky, there was a beautiful female figure who was none other than the Inca stranded on the sidewalk. The woman's right hand held tightly to an iron jack.

"Wr**g! Who're you?" The driver kicked the Inca's hand mercilessly. Dongkrak detached, spinning aloud over the sidewalk.

The inca hissed in pain. The eyes of the woman were full of fear. He did not expect at all, obtaining a swift and alert opponent.

The driver crouched in front of the Inca. Look at women with crumpled red hair in the rain. Mr. Driver's shoulder felt sore and throbbing. Looks like a broken or cracked collarbone. The whole right hand cannot be moved, there is only a constant numbness.

"C! You broke my bones. Answer me fucking! Whoareyou? Who's the man in the car? Then what's your business with Mak Lastri's house?" snarled Mr. Driver. Inca just shut up.

The driver lost patience. With his left hand, he gripped the Inca's neck with all his might. The Inca did not fight, nor did it scream. Something that feels awkward to the driver. Suddenly he remembered his boss who had entered the house.

"Don't you have a plot! Goddamn bum!" Mr. Driver shoved the Inca's slender body onto the sidewalk.

The driver stood up and was about to leave the Inca. But now in front of him stood a man with a dragon-carved staff in his hand.

"Waahh, the plot came up. A coward who ambushed when his enemy was already wounded," taunted Mr. Driver.

The driver approached. Trying to lift a fist at close range. Suddenly, his body stopped moving. The tip of the foreign male stick turned out to be a pointed steel plate, piercing the left chest of the driver who opened.

"A balanced fight? Do you think so too? Really naive. The world belongs to the man who has strategy" said the man with the dragon's wand.

The maroon-red viscous liquid poured down. Driver Sir's throat is blocked. A proper cough brings out phlegm, this time spitting out dar*h. The breath also felt tight. The respiratory tract seems to be narrowing.

Lack of oxygen felt, the head seemed to be about to explode. Eyes start to twitch and blur. In the end, a kick from the male dragon-stick ended the life of Mr. Driver the Golden Watch.

Meanwhile, Mr. Wito or the golden watch entered Mak Lastri's house and found the woman was with two old friends. Jumani and Nuryanto look surprised to meet the eyes of Mr. Wito. There were also two foreign guests sitting facing Mak Lastri.

"Wahh, what's going on? Why are they all gathered here?" Mr. Wito smiled wryly.

"It seems like fate has us gathering Wito," Mak Lastri replied briefly.

"You both failed to get my protection. Then come to this place. Do you think this one mom can help you?" Wito chuckled mockingly at Nuryanto and Jumani.

"Wito, don't make fun of them" Mak Lastri said.

"Don't rule me Lastri! I'm not your henchman!" bentak Wito's. Mak Lastri sighed for a moment, and looked at the confused looking Angga.

"Wito, are you unable to recognize this young man before me? He's an IT officer" Mak Lastri said, changing the subject.

Mr. Wito looked at Angga. Wrinkled forehead. He seemed to think and remember. Then slowly shake.

"The five-year-old boy who was taken in the orphanage by your wife" Mak Lastri continued.

"Female? Your son? Then this woman is her sister? Son of Sumiran?" Mr. Wito took one step back. Instead the bodyguard with a scar on the face took a few steps forward and put up the horses.

Suddenly, a puff of smoke appeared from all corners of the house. The smell of the sky is stinging. The air also turns hot and stuffy.

"What'sthis? What the hell's going on? What are you doing Wito?" yelled Mak Lastri hysterically.

"Not me!" protest Wito coughing.

Connect___

Forgive me long time not updated, because new nyungsep fitting ride motor.