The Plan Of Masked Man
Who her?

Icha gives AK's laptop and comes out first. AK let Icha into the cafe alone, and for a moment AK hands busy surfing exploring letters and numbers. "It seems like I should go there. But what do you want me to do about the woman I'm with? I don't guarantee, he can fast talk."

Leaving AK still busy thinking about his plan, Icha felt trembling as her footsteps intercepted some people in black clothes. "Who's kaaaliaan?"

"Follow with us well, or!" threaten one of the men by showing a firearm on his waist.

Icha shook her head. However, the four men in black clothes increasingly cornered themselves inside the bathroom. "Don't come any closer! Or I'm yelling…"

"Do you want to be like him?" ask the first man by pointing to one of the bathroom cubicles.

Icha's eyes bulged, a woman with a leaking head condition drenched in blood with lips covered in high heels. Of course, the woman was no longer alive. And look at the hand of one of the men in black clothes, covered in blood still dripping. What the hell is going on? He really understands nothing.

"Let's not make us act rude!" The first man tried to hold Icha's hand.

"Ampuue.. Don't go near me.." Icha's great-grandson covered her face.

Wouss.. Sleez.. Triings…

"Aeuw. Damn@n! Find the knife-thrower!" command the first man and hold his scratched palm deep and long enough.

The first man's cry, made Icha peek behind the crack of her finger. A drop of fresh blood stained the milky white marble floor and a knife with blood fell down in front of Icha's feet. His heart was suddenly delighted, whoever hurt the man in front of him was definitely around him.

Not yet the three men did the first man command, the voice of a man from the direction of the toilet entrance was heard entering the eardrums of all the bloody bathroom residents. "Take the woman off!"

"It turns out the hero of bad luck. What with a small wound like this, you think strongly?" satirize the first man and flick his injured hand.

A masked man with a hood just stood up straight without answering a word. That cold reaction, made the first man code his three comrades to come forward to attack. One nearby man came forward and attacked the masked man. A face-to-face punch of the hand is dealt with a counter-attack of a kick in the abdomen. Not stopping there, the masked man also pulled the body of the man who attacked him and twisted the man's body with a hand lock. "Forward!"

"Bad! Finish off our bad luck hero." the first man orders, getting two men to run and get ready to attack the masked man.

The distance was too close and without calculation, the masked man threw the man still in his hand towards the two men who were his comrades.

Bruug…….

"Bed3ba! You guys aren't b3cus!" exclaim the first man and kick his own men.

The face that was still fine, ended up battered. The first man was very temperament, without realizing it. Icha had moved position very carefully, the bustle of the first man venting out anger. It was precisely the opportunity Icha to run away and now Icha chose to stand behind the masked man. "Thank you for helping me."

"Go away.Let this be my business!" tell the masked man with a faint voice.

The voice was different from that of the AK master, but right now Icha had to return to the car. And according to the request of the masked man, free also himself in that place. If it is someone else's burden. "Thanks again. I owe you."

Icha's footsteps walked away from the bloody bathroom. Icha's departure, made the faces in the bathroom smile. The masked man took something from behind his jacket. A large brown envelope with its leisure was thrown towards the first man. "Good job!"

Without removing the mask, the masked man left the bathroom. It is up to be flanked by the corpse that became his impingement. After all, his hired thugs had to complete the task like a deal. While Icha, was worried and confused.

His eyes are still normal, Icha sees AK is still in the car and is busy surfing on the keyboard. Who wears the mask and saves himself? With a thousand steps, Icha walked over to the car and entered in a hurry.

Braaa….. (The door was closed too hard)

"Are you okay? Can't be more calm!" cetus AK without seeing Icha.

Not yet able to answer, Icha's eyes caught the figure of a masked man from the corner of the parking lot. The only two cars with a distance of 4 parking cars, making Icha clearly see the masked man who saved him. Increasingly in the face, the eyes of the two are adrift.

I know he's looking at me. Am I not wrong? Butwhy? Who her? ~ part Icha with mind full question mark.

The man's fingers were raised, and formed like a gun. It moved like a shot was fired. "Dreams…"

AK was shocked by Icha's scream. Deftly, the laptop is closed and moved. Now AK's eyes look at Icha's facial expression. The direction of Icha's view gets out of the car, AK follows but there is nothing but one parked car. "Hey? What was? Why is your face so pale?''

"Ituuuu.." great-granddaughter Icha while pointing towards the corner of the parking lot.

AK looked back to where Icha's hand was directed, but nil. The parking lot is very quiet. "I'm going out."

Icha's hand held AK's arm tightly, and shook his head. Obviously Icha was in shock, but what was the reason. Even since Icha got out of the car, it has only been thirty minutes. "Okay I'm staying. Calm down."

Once again AK hugs Icha with gentleness, unnoticed by AK. Someone was hiding with a meaningful smile. Some of the photos have been stored very well inside his smartphone.

A proverb that says 'Speak is prayer'. That's right, I became what a definite figure outside anyone's thinking. Who's in the wrong? Me or you? If my life is ruined, then you too must be ruined!~ inner person behind one corner parking lot.

...~🗡🗡~~...

Readers, othoor won't stop taking you.

*Stop boom like okay!*

Is our work so bad? Othoor just wants you to understand, if boom like degrades the work of the writers.

Writers pour their imagination not only into time, but also energy and thought!

If you don't want to read, we appreciate it more!

Sorry, my reader's been faithful and actually reading my work. Maybe, you guys are disturbing with the expression of my heart. But to be honest, I don't know what my fellow writers and readers are.

May the complaints of the writers be conveyed in this way, do you know? My hair bristles every time I write a novel, especially with other sensitive things.