That morning, Jakarta had yet to fully wake up when Arga was already seated in a small restaurant tucked into the corner of an office building.
Two laptop screens sat in front of him.
One displayed stock movements.
The other showed a list of companies and people connected to Richard Wijaya.
The coffee on the table remained untouched.
Arga had barely slept since the night before.
One thing kept gnawing at him.
Richard wasn't the only person involved.
If all the documents belonging to his father were accurate, then Richard was merely one part of a much larger network.
Arga needed someone who could read data faster than he could.
Someone who couldn't easily be bought.
Someone capable of thinking several steps ahead.
The restaurant door opened.
A woman walked in.
She looked about twenty-seven.
Her long black hair was tied back simply. She wore a white shirt and black pants and carried a slim laptop.
There was no expensive jewelry.
No designer bag.
She walked over to Arga's table.
“Are you Arga?”
Arga nodded.
“And you're Nadia?”
“That’s right.”
Nadia sat down without wasting time.
“I heard you pay a lot for company analysis.”
“I pay a lot for the right person.”
Nadia gave him a faint smile.
“Then you don't know who I am yet.”
“I do.”
Arga pushed a folder toward her.
Nadia opened it.
Inside were the financial statements of several companies.
She read quickly.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Then Nadia closed the folder.
“This isn't a stock problem.”
Arga looked at her.
“Explain.”
“These companies were deliberately made to look separate.”
Nadia pointed to several pages.
“Company A owes debt to Company B.”
“Company B turns out to be owned by Company C.”
“Company C has ties to Company D.”
“And Company D receives funding from a company indirectly connected to Richard Wijaya.”
Arga said nothing.
Nadia continued.
“If we only look at the public filings, everything appears legal.”
“But?”
“If we follow the flow of money...”
Nadia opened her laptop.
“It’s one network.”
She showed him a diagram.
Dozens of companies were connected to one another.
But there was one point at the center.
A company called **Orion Pacific Holdings**.
Arga furrowed his brow.
“What kind of company is that?”
“An investment firm.”
“Who owns it?”
Nadia typed something.
Then she shook her head.
“This is the strange part.”
“What?”
“The ownership data isn't clear.”
Arga leaned closer.
Nadia pointed at the screen.
“This company is registered in several countries. The director's name keeps changing. So does the office address.”
“Who’s the ultimate owner?”
“I don't know yet.”
Arga fell silent.
Then he asked, “How difficult would it be to find them?”
Nadia looked at him.
“If I work alone, it might take months.”
“What if you work with me?”
Nadia smiled.
“Faster.”
“How fast?”
“Three weeks.”
Arga nodded.
“Good.”
Nadia looked surprised.
“Good?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not even going to negotiate?”
“I’m not looking for an employee.”
Arga closed his laptop.
“I’m building a team.”
Nadia stared at him for several seconds.
“A team for what?”
Arga looked straight into her eyes.
“To take back something that should have been mine.”
Two days later, Arga rented a small office in central Jakarta.
It wasn't luxurious.
There was no grand lobby.
No flashy company logo.
Just one room with six desks, two meeting rooms, and a small server in the back.
The words below were written on the door:
**MAHENDRA INVESTMENT PARTNERS**
Dimas was the first person to join.
He handled operations and broker relations.
Nadia became head of research.
A former bank analyst named Raka handled the financial statements.
Arga, meanwhile, had the final say.
Dimas looked around.
“So this is our investment firm?”
Arga nodded.
“We only have four people.”
“And the capital?”
“One hundred twenty billion.”
Dimas laughed.
“One hundred twenty billion, and you call this an investment firm?”
Arga looked at him.
“How much capital did Richard have when he started?”
Dimas fell silent.
“No idea.”
“Exactly.”
Arga walked to the whiteboard.
“Everyone looks at a person's wealth after they’ve already succeeded.”
He wrote one large number:
**Rp120,000,000,000**
“This is where we start.”
Then he wrote a second number.
**Rp1,000,000,000,000,000**
One quadrillion.
Dimas gaped.
“Arga...”
Arga stared at the number.
“The ultimate target isn't one trillion.”
Nadia, who had been silent until then, finally raised her head.
“So you really want to become the richest person in the market?”
Arga smiled.
“I don't just want to be rich.”
He erased the number.
Then he wrote:
**CONTROL.**
“Money can disappear.”
“Stocks can drop.”
“Companies can go bankrupt.”
“But if we control the right companies...”
Arga stopped.
“...we won’t be chasing money anymore.”
“We’ll be the ones deciding where the money moves.”
The room fell silent.
Nadia looked at Arga differently.
For the first time, she realized it.
This man wasn't merely a young investor.
He had a much greater ambition.
Meanwhile, in a luxurious building in central Jakarta...
Richard Wijaya stood in front of a window.
Behind him, three men sat around a table.
One of them opened a tablet.
“Mr. Richard, Arga Mahendra has established an investment firm.”
Richard didn't turn around.
“How much capital does it have?”
“One hundred twenty billion.”
Richard smiled.
“Still small.”
“Right.”
“How