The sound of running footsteps still hadn't stopped when the boy crashed into the low fence in the yard, his body nearly stumbling to the ground. Fero was already on his feet before the boy could catch his breath.
“What happened?” Fero asked, his voice sharp and completely different from his casual tone a moment ago.
“Thugs, bro... in front of the food stall...” The boy gasped for breath, pointing toward the gate. “Andy’s being held, and they’re trying to extort him. They’re also yelling at Mr. Hardi, the head of the complex.”
Mr. Hardi, who had just closed his brown folder, immediately stood up, his expression turning tense. “Whose thugs? I thought this area had been safe for a long time.”
“I don’t know, sir. But there are a lot of them.”
Fero didn’t wait for a longer explanation. He strode quickly toward the exit, his jaw tightening. Angelo, who was still on the porch, followed at once when he heard the commotion, his expression turning alert.
“Fero, wait for me!” he shouted, jogging after his cousin.
Sita and Mr. Hardi didn’t stay behind either. Several other committee members came outside as well, while the children who had earlier rushed out to welcome the guests now huddled fearfully near the door, clutching one another’s hands.
As soon as they reached the front of the food stall, the scene came clearly into view. Three muscular men stood around a sobbing Andy, while his groceries lay scattered across the ground. Another man, apparently the group’s leader, stood a short distance away, casually smoking as if he didn’t care about the terrified child in front of him.
“Let the kid go,” Fero said when he was close enough, his voice low but full of menace.
The man holding Andy turned, raising an eyebrow at Fero’s arrival. He glanced toward his leader as if waiting for orders. The leader, a man with a tattooed arm and closely cropped hair, stepped forward and tossed his cigarette butt onto the ground.
“Well, looks like we have an important guest,” he said with a sneer. “You’re the one who owns that foundation?”
“I’ll ask one more time. Let the kid go,” Fero repeated without budging.
The tattooed man raised both hands in mock surrender, then signaled his men to release Andy. The boy immediately ran toward Sita, who quickly embraced him and rubbed his trembling back.
“My name’s Yoyo,” the man continued, proudly patting his own chest. “And I’m here to tell you, Fero—shut down the Cinta Bunda Foundation. Disband it. Before I take matters into my own hands.”
Angelo, who had just reached Fero’s side, frowned in confusion. “Who the hell is this guy?”
Yoyo laughed at the comment, but his eyes remained fixed on Fero. “Those kids used to work for me. Busking, begging, anything that made money. They handed half of what they earned over to me. Now? They’re all in school, studying, because of your foundation. I’m taking a huge loss, you know.”
“So you’re angry because you can’t extort little kids anymore,” Fero replied flatly.
Yoyo’s face hardened at the jab, but he still tried to look calm. “I don’t care what you have to say. The fact is, this won’t be over as long as that foundation is still standing.”
Mr. Hardi took half a step forward, trying to mediate. “Yoyo, if there’s a problem, we can talk it out. There’s no need to bring your men here.”
“Talk it out?” Yoyo scoffed, looking down at Mr. Hardi with contempt. “Old man, this isn’t your business. Besides, even if you report me to the police, it’ll be pointless. I already give all the law enforcement officers around here monthly payments. None of them would dare arrest me.”
Angelo clenched his fists, furious at the man’s arrogance. “How dare you say that in front of little kids.”
“Shut up. This has nothing to do with you,” Yoyo shot back, casting Angelo a contemptuous glance before turning his attention to Fero again.
Fero took one step closer, his sharp gaze fixed directly on Yoyo without blinking. “Listen carefully. I’m not shutting down this foundation, no matter the reason. And you—or anyone else who tries to harm the children here—will have to deal with me.”
The area around the food stall suddenly fell silent. Several residents who had been watching from a distance began moving closer, curious about the commotion. Yoyo’s men exchanged glances, apparently not expecting Fero to speak so firmly without the slightest hint of fear.
Yoyo merely laughed even louder, as if the statement were the funniest joke he had ever heard. “Deal with you? All right, I like your courage. How about we make a bet?”
“What kind of bet?” Fero asked, his voice still calm despite his slightly raised eyebrows.
“If you can beat me, I promise I’ll never bother your foundation again. I’ll pull my men back too. None of them will dare come near this place.” Yoyo spread both arms, displaying an exaggerated air of confidence. “But if I win, that foundation has to close. No negotiations.”
Angelo immediately snapped back, his voice rising. “You think this is a game? You’re gambling with the children’s future against a thug like you?”
“That’s exactly what makes it fun,” Yoyo replied with a broad grin. “So? Do you dare?”
Fero fell silent for a moment, studying Yoyo’s self-assured face. He glanced briefly at Andy, who was still sobbing in Sita’s arms, then at the other children huddled in fear nearby. His jaw tightened, and his gaze grew even sharper.