Rain had been falling since late afternoon.
The city sky looked like a gray cloth hanging low over the old buildings. The streets were filled with puddles, while vehicle headlights reflected off their surfaces like streaks of light that never stopped moving.
In a small food stall that was almost closed, a man sat alone.
His name was Raka Adinata.
He was thirty-four years old.
His hair was cut short, his face was hard, and his eyes held something that couldn't be explained by a brief glance.
A cup of coffee that had already gone cold sat in front of him.
Raka didn't touch it.
His hand merely gripped the glass while his thoughts returned to years ago.
Once, he had worn a uniform.
Once, people had called him by his rank.
Once, he had a purpose.
Now?
There was no uniform.
No rank.
No one waiting for him to come home anymore.
Raka stared at his reflection in the food stall's window.
The man he saw looked like a stranger.
“It's all gone,” he muttered.
He pulled his wallet from his pants pocket.
Only a few bills remained.
Enough for a few meals.
After that, there would be nothing.
Raka let out a long breath.
He had actually tried to live a normal life after leaving the military world. He had worked as a security guard. He had been a driver. He had taken odd jobs in a warehouse. He had even tried opening a small business with a friend.
All of it had failed.
Not because Raka was lazy.
Quite the opposite.
He was used to working hard.
But the world after the uniform turned out to be far harsher than he had ever imagined.
The skills that had once earned him respect were of little use when he had to deal with bills, rent, and everyday expenses.
The most painful part was when someone who had once called him “Commander” now wouldn't even answer his calls.
Raka gave a bitter smile.
He put his wallet back in his pocket.
As he was about to stand, a man suddenly entered the food stall.
The man wore a black jacket and walked in a hurry.
His eyes swept across the room before finally stopping on Raka.
“Raka?”
Raka turned.
He recognized the voice immediately.
“Bayu?”
The man gave him a faint smile.
Bayu was an old friend of Raka's.
They had once been part of the same circle, years ago. But after Raka left the service, their relationship had slowly faded away.
Bayu sat down across from him.
“I've been looking for you for a long time.”
“What for?”
Bayu didn't answer right away.
He looked out the window.
Then he turned his gaze back to Raka.
“I heard things have been rough for you.”
Raka gave a quiet laugh.
“Bad news travels fast.”
“I have a job.”
Raka fell silent.
“What kind of job?”
Bayu leaned closer.
“One that pays very well.”
Raka fixed him with a sharp stare.
Years of experience had taught him to recognize the smallest changes in a person's expression.
Bayu was hiding something.
“I'm not interested.”
“You haven't even heard what the job is.”
“I can tell by the way you're talking.”
Bayu smiled.
“Still the same as ever.”
“And you're still the same, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You always show up when there's trouble.”
Bayu's smile disappeared.
For several seconds, they sat in silence.
Then Bayu pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and placed it on the table.
Raka looked at the envelope.
“What is that?”
“An opportunity.”
Raka didn't touch it.
“How much?”
Bayu named a figure.
Raka went silent.
The amount was far more than he had earned over the past several months.
And that was exactly why it made him suspicious.
“Where did you get that kind of money?”
Bayu looked at him.
“That isn't a question you need to ask.”
Raka stood.
“I'm not in.”
He left the table.
But before he reached the door, Bayu spoke softly.
“If you turn it down, maybe tomorrow you'll still be alive with the same problems.”
Raka stopped.
Bayu continued.
“But if you accept…”
Raka turned around.
“…your life will never be the same again.”
Thunder boomed across the sky.
For a moment, Raka stood in the doorway.
He knew something was waiting for him behind that offer.
Something dangerous.
Something that might destroy what remained of his life.
But that night, for the first time in years, Raka realized one thing.
People who have nothing sometimes become far more willing to take risks.
He left the food stall without giving an answer.
But the envelope remained on the table.
And without Raka realizing it, a small camera across the street was aimed directly at the place where he had been sitting.
Someone had been watching him.
Someone who already knew everything about his life.
And Raka's meeting with Bayu that night was no coincidence.
It was the beginning of Raka's long journey toward the world he had spent so long trying to avoid.
The criminal underworld.
A world that knew no mercy.
And a world that would one day make his name known as one of the most feared robbers in the city.