Travel Stories
Sorry Yes Mas...

When the young man finally caught up with everyone to the stall, his face showed nothing. Only his three comrades were impressed as if waiting for anything to come out of his mouth. After ordering food and taking a seat, he finally spoke.

"We can do anything there, but at 11-15 hours we can't work, we have to rest. But other than that, everything is safe. If you have to pee carelessly, the area around the pyramid can be, as long as not to the coconut tree next to a large fish pond. It's allowed the same one that has a place."

And when he heard this, the three seemed relieved, like a cloud hanging in the sky, vanishing into the wind and again revealing the sunlight. The three again dissolved in their bar-bar jokes, as if what Pangky said before was a natural thing.

It's just that Typhoon frowned when a hint of resentment appeared in his heart for this cool-ass young man.

Requesting clearance? Same who? Sok understand!

Maybe this young man means well, just so that his friends are somewhat in control of themselves, but that does not mean having to blame something that can not be proven by many people, especially supernatural problems like this. It's fine if there's no magical entity there. But if it really exists and feels he is used as an excuse arbitrarily and the creature decides to get angry and then retaliate?

Really not using any sense!

Typhoon began to develop feelings of dislike for the young man who previously seemed so cool to him. The figure that is so sturdy when climbing the pyramid-shaped building is distorted into a con man. Although when the young man who seems to be the team leader is very patient and understanding in training him, the impression does not improve. Especially when he drank tea when the day before dusk, he made 2 drinks, and put one beside him, as if giving the drink to someone else.

Huft, maybe if someone else, they could have believed. I can also see, my boss! Mysterious, vicious Cyclone's inner curse. He dislikes people like this the most, big con men.

And that is what makes Typhoon flinch from its current position. It had been 3 days since the incident he had vomited after 45 minutes trying to work with their method, and currently, he was quite familiar with that method. The time had already shown at 10:15 p.m., close to the "ban" time set by the great deceiver, and Lombo had repeatedly brought him down. It's just that, the paint is only left a little in the bucket hanging on his waist, and Typhoon feels sorry if it has to go down now. So while moving down, he kept trying to finish the paint in the bucket. He did not even care about the cry of Pangky, who seemed very worried when the clock had passed the number 11 more.

Huft, fraudsters are just cheaters. Responsibility tau, rutuk inner Typhoon fierce. The brush in his hand was still stretched to reach the last corner which was still not perfectly covered in paint. Actually, it is only that place that has not been done, and he will be able to finish his part without having to go up again if the corner is resolved.

But alas, not to mention the brush in his hand reached that corner, as if something was pulling the foot that he used as a pedestal. Kontan, his body that only uses the rope as security and the left leg as a pedestal, rotates like a top. His head was thrust towards the wall of the building made of concrete. The contents of the bucket splashed out as a result of the rapid spinning. In the corner of his eyes, he caught the shadow of a burly figure, with fangs sticking out of his mouth, staring at him fiercely with large, hideous eyes. The shock, shock, and fear that surfaced in his heart and mind, dulling any reactions that might emerge from the Typhoon. He was only able to look at the concrete wall that seemed to come to him very quickly when his body slammed into the concrete wall.

Damn, I'm dead...

Fortunately, Pangky, who was still under the Typhoon, quickly pulled the safety rope dangling below, and ran against the direction of the Typhoon slammed, preventing him from suffering injuries. Although in the process, he made his own hand hurt by being sliced by a rope that held the weight of the Typhoon, the latter did not suffer any injuries. The head of the Typhoon stopped only about 10 cm from the hard concrete wall.

"Ready. Am.. A. Safe, Mas." reply Typhoon stuttered a little. The young man was still trembling violently. Cold sweat poured down as he realized the bucket on his waist, which slammed into the wall as it was being carried round his body had broken and spilled its contents onto the floor, 6 meters below.

Although wearing a helmet, I am not sure that my head will be fine if there is no Mas Pangky below, the inner Typhoon without being able to hold myself to take a deep breath.

"Okay, put yourself first. I took off the rope slowly." he shouted as the Typhoon responded to his call.

The cyclone immediately tried to straighten itself out even though the trepidation had not completely left the heart over the close encounter of a heavy injury or perhaps even death just now. As quickly as possible he tried to get down without forgetting the various sequences of use of safety devices on his waist. Merely, when his condition had somewhat improved, and he began to slide down from a height, a terrifying rumble of sound echoed in his mind. Presenting a sense of threat that presents a feeling as if, the owner of the threat will be able to eliminate its existence very easily.

"Compense! Please try again luck, boy. If it wasn't for your friend's human, I would've squeezed that pitiful body of yours!!!"

The cyclone did not answer. This time, the fearless, hard-hearted young man admitted that he was guilty. He was silent, not answering the grunts of the creature in the slightest. He knew, answering, even just an apology, would only make the creature even more angry. The young man simply cleaned up the remnants of paint that splattered on the floor in silence after he got to the bottom.

"Already, Pan. Just later. Let's wash your hands and face. We'll take care of the others."

The normally loud and firm voice was soft as his hand patted the shoulder of the still-down Typhoon, half-crawling to clear the spilled splash of paint.

"But Mas, it's gonna be hard..."

But the young man's head stopped Typhoon's speech. A gentle smile appeared on his hard face.

"What's wrong. I'll show you how to clean it. Now, wash your hands and wipe all the paint off your body, keep resting, eat." she said again, still with the same softness. A worried smile mixed with understanding eyes appeared and made the Typhoon more unable to see the young man's face. With his head down, Typhoon stood up and moved to wash off the traces of paint on his body, as embarrassment developed very quickly in the young man's heart and mind. Especially when he turned his head, Pangky's broad and sturdy back greeted the gaze when the young man lit a cigarette and put it on a stone. The coverall he was wearing was torn off at the shoulder from being ripped apart by the sharp friction of the carnmantel straps, revealing hideously bruised skin, while blood seemed to splatter onto the stone from the wound on his hand. Now he understood why Lombo, Gudel, even Mas Eko, respected this man so much.

For this time, Typhoon really felt like going home...