12 Badoets
Wolu Wolongpuluh

Adi shifted her pant. He had been sitting for hours in the guardhouse of the Golden Watch, but got nothing. After sighing for a moment, Adi stood up leaving a hollow mark on the cheap-looking sponge. The housekeeper scrunched his forehead, looking at the guest who looked lost patience.

"Where are you going?" ask the housekeeper.

"Maybe I'll be back here another day. Everyone would agree that the most tiring and boring thing is to wait," said Adi smiling wryly.

"As far as you go" said the housekeeper casually.

Adi snorted in annoyance and left leaving the housekeeper alone. Adi's matic motor is outside the fence, ranging from hot heat, to rainwater. Adi patted the motorcycle seat, hoping that the seat of synthetic leather does not wet the sleeve*nnnnya.

In the end Adi left the mansion empty-handed. Nothing he got. Like a cat drifting, Adi felt what he was doing right now was a waste.

"Maybe I'd better enjoy my suspension at the clinic, just wait for Tarji" Adi murmured.

Meanwhile, two cars are racing on a quiet street. Black luxury sedan driven Golden watch is in front. Followed by a gray SUV car mounted by a male stick dragon. The wet streets in the middle of abandoned shophouses became a wild racecourse.

Several times the sedan car hit the uneven road body. Sparks of fire were seen burning as the bottom bumper touched the asphalt with a loud voice. The male car with the dragon staff had difficulty catching up.

The male with the dragon staff took out his right hand that was clutching a firearm. At high speed he tried to aim at the rear wheels of the golden watch car. It's not as easy as it is in the movie.

Explosive sounds echoed in that abandoned area. The sedan car looks good then hit an electric pole standing in front of an empty shophouse in old gray. Likewise, the SUV driven by a male dragon stick also mired to the right, and stopped not far from the sedan car. The sound of car alarms kept sounding repeatedly deafening. Looks like a short circuit.

Mr. Wito got out of his car. There are some blisters on the forehead and arms. He was stuck in a chair and steering wheel. The front of the luxury sedan car was quite bad.

The male with a dragon cane was seen exiting the car while fixing the folds of his shirt. He walked limping with an iron-tipped stick covered in maroon red. A smile on red lips. Among the thin whiskers that look neat.

"Do I look foreign to you? Your face looks confused Old Man," said the dragon-sticked man. The two powerful figures are now facing each other.

"Yes, I'm not senile. And I'm sure I've never met you before" replied Mr. Wito observing the man in front of him with his gray hair.

"Should we get acquainted? Or just get to the point?" The right hand of the male with the dragon stick brandished the firearm directly towards the chest of Mr. Wito.

"Wait a minute! Whatdoyouwant? Can't all things be talked about?" Mr. Wito stuttered. If he had to duel with his bare hands, he felt that he would not lose even though his opponent had a much younger looking age. But in the face of firearms, what can Mr. Wito do except try to negotiate.

"Say how much nominal you need. I'll write it down" continued Mr. Wito with a cold sweat dripping down his temple.

"I don't need your money, Old Man. I just want to see you die in front of me." The dragon-sticked man grinned widely.

Mr. Wito is well aware that the opponent in front of him is not playing games. The black eyeballs were without a doubt, as well as the hands that were not trembling grasped the firearms. Mr. Wito did not end up thinking there were people he did not recognize at all but wanted his death.

"alright. Please shoot me. After all, all the success I have enjoyed in the course of my life. I don't think dying at the top of a career is so bad. Besides, I'm sure my son will win the election. Ahh, this world is really beautiful in my eyes.ha ha ha," said Mr. Wito. The golden watch spread out both hands with its face looking up at the black sky. He laughed off.

Mr. Wito actually did not intend to give up. The old man was already very experienced in dealing with crime. If the opponent cannot be defeated and cannot be persuaded, then all one has to do is show oneself no objection, accept even happiness over what will befall him.

"Suck!" as if men with dragon sticks. The right hand holding the weapon was now trembling violently. The eyeballs that were previously full of victory now seem a lot of doubt.

"Don't let you die laughing, bangs*t!" squealing men with dragon sticks.

"Huh? Then how else? My life is so beautiful, boy!" said Mr. Wito while continuing to laugh.

"I hunted twelve clowns to escort them to a painful death. For you have done a heinous thing to a woman who worked hard for the education and health of her child. You don't deserve to laugh, be happy. You don't deserve a little bit of the world's goodness." The half-screaming dragon-stick man. His breath was hunting. Full of anger and frustration.

Now Mr. Wito no longer stretches his hand. The wrinkled forehead of the old man is increasingly wrinkled because of thinking hard. Mr. Wito once again observed the face of the male with the dragon staff. After a while, he finally remembered something.

"You're Si Surti's son?" asked Mr. Wito a little doubtful.

"Ohh, you finally know," said the male with a short dragon staff.

"How do you know about the clowns?" Mr. Wito looked astonished.

"Should I tell you?" The dragon-sticked man squinted his eyes.

Mr. Wito was silent this time. Two men who were trying to read each other's minds, stood under the gloomy look of the abandoned shophouse lights. The cold night wind was piercing to the bone. A long silence.

"I got polio when I was a kid. The right leg is weak. My more unemployed father did not have enough money to take me to medical treatment. It is the mother who takes over the role as the backbone of the family. Everything began to improve, when Mamak's income from Mr. Sumiran was very sufficient for our lives. Then everything was destroyed that night. Mamak's body was delivered home by an officer. He just said Mamak had an accident on the road. There was nothing I could do, because I was no more than 10 years old at the time" said the dragon-sticked man. His round eyes seemed glazed, glittering by the dim light of the lamp.

"The boy who cried holding his Mama's suit that night, was you," Wito said in a daydream.

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