In the office, the relentless clatter of keyboards and the low hum of machines blended into a monotonous backdrop. It was a dull symphony—enough to lull even the sharpest mind into a state of lethargy.
Randa, a warehouse logistics coordinator at a company in Batam, Indonesia, was fully absorbed in his work. His fingers danced swiftly across the keyboard, precise and practiced, amid the ever-present mechanical buzz.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, he stopped. A long sigh escaped his lips as he stretched, rolled his shoulders, and flexed his fingers.
"Ah, finally done," he muttered, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He glanced at his wristwatch. It was already past noon.
Wasting no time, Randa made his way to the company cafeteria. Along the way, he greeted familiar faces with his usual polite demeanor.
Upon arriving, he picked up a tray of food and found an empty seat. He began eating quietly. Though the food was unremarkable, it was enough to fill his stomach. Randa had never been picky about meals.
A few minutes later, some coworkers he was friendly with sat down beside him after grabbing their own meals. He gave them a brief nod in acknowledgment and continued eating. Their presence was as familiar and ordinary as the food on his plate—simple, yet oddly comforting.
As Randa was quietly enjoying his lunch, he overheard whispers coming from the table next to his. At first, he had no intention of eavesdropping, but they were close enough that the conversation reached his ears naturally.
"Hey, did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Apparently, someone new is being transferred here!"
"What? Are they going to outrank us? Hopefully they're not the difficult type."
"Word is, they're related to someone important in the company."
"If that's true, we'd better watch what we say around them."
The gossip continued, but Randa tuned it out. Just more office rumors, he thought—nothing worth paying attention to.
After finishing his meal and resting for a bit, Randa returned to his desk. On the way back, he noticed his manager, Mr. Budi, speaking with a young man. Randa overheard the young man calling Mr. Budi "Uncle," and Mr. Budi referring to the young man's mother as his sister.
Their conversation abruptly stopped when Randa walked past. He offered a polite greeting and continued on his way, not giving it much thought.
Back at his desk, Randa resumed working. He was the only one already back on task—most others were still on break. His dedication wasn't driven by ambition, but by a sense of responsibility that had deepened since his recent promotion.
Even so, something still nagged at him. His promotion had come too fast, too suddenly. Randa, being a logical thinker, had been suspicious at first. But after a month passed without issue, he chose to let it go and focus on his job. As far as he was concerned, whatever the circumstances, he was the one benefitting now.
He became so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice anything around him—until a sudden tap on the shoulder startled him.
He turned to see Irfan, one of his quieter coworkers.
"What's up, Irfan?"
"Mr. Budi called earlier. He wants to see you in his office."
"Got it. Thanks."
Irfan nodded and returned to his desk as Randa headed straight to Mr. Budi's office, curiosity tugging at the back of his mind.
Knock knock knock!
Randa knocked politely on the door.
"Come in."
He opened the door and stepped inside. Mr. Budi's face looked tense and grim. What caught Randa even more off guard was the presence of a stranger in the room—a man he didn't recognize.
"Good afternoon, sir. Is there something you needed?"
Instead of answering, Mr. Budi asked a strange question.
"Randa, does this company owe you something?"
Randa blinked, confused. "No, sir. Why do you ask? Did I do something wrong?"
"Then what is this? Because of you, the company has suffered a loss!" Mr. Budi snapped, slamming a few documents onto the desk.
Frowning, Randa quickly looked over the papers. He recognized the project—it was something he had worked on just a few days ago. There were no technical errors, but the estimated losses listed in the report made his heart skip a beat.
He racked his brain… and then it hit him. The documents had indeed been prepared by him—but under direct orders from Mr. Budi, even after Randa had voiced concerns. Mr. Budi had insisted everything would be fine and personally guaranteed it.
So why was he being thrown under the bus now?
As Randa stood there in stunned silence, Mr. Budi shouted again.
"Do you even understand the damage you've caused?! This could be irreversible! You were just promoted, and now you've shattered the company's trust!"
A surge of frustration rose in Randa, but he kept his composure. He put on a humble expression and said, "I'm sorry, sir! I'll fix it right away. If there's any material that needs revising, I'll take care of it immediately."
But Mr. Budi was unmoved.
"No need! You're clearly no longer suited for this role. As of today, you're fired."
Randa froze in disbelief.
"But sir—"
"No buts! This gentleman here is from HR. You can handle the process with him."
Only then did Randa remember the other man in the room. The ID badge hanging from his neck confirmed it—he was indeed from HR.
The HR rep stepped forward, holding a stack of documents. "Please read these, then sign here," he said, pointing to a spot.
Still stunned, Randa took the papers. As he read through them, anger simmered in his chest. The entire document was designed to corner him. He couldn't stay quiet any longer.
"Sir, all of this was done under your direction! I warned you it could backfire, but you said it would be fine! And now I'm being blamed? This isn't fair!"
Mr. Budi hesitated for a brief second but quickly regained his smug demeanor.
"Have you lost your mind, Randa? When did I ever say that? If you have proof, let's see it!"
Randa went quiet. There was no proof. Everything had been verbal—no written messages, no emails, no official documentation. The trap had been set carefully.
Seeing his blank expression, Mr. Budi sneered.
"If you keep resisting, I'll escalate this to a legal matter. So just sign the papers."
Randa's heart pounded like a race car engine. But what choice did he have? Reluctantly, he signed the documents.
The HR rep gave a curt nod and left. Randa walked out of the office slowly, his face blank, his energy drained.
Back at his desk, he sat in silence.
After a few moments, the office grew noisy with whispers and murmurs.
Mr. Budi had returned—this time with the young man from earlier.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I'd like to introduce your new warehouse logistics coordinator…"
The room filled with quiet chatter. Everyone knew that was Randa's position. A few people even stared at him openly.
But Randa didn't care. His eyes were locked on the young man standing beside Mr. Budi.
"Wait... isn't that Mr. Budi's nephew? He's the one replacing me?"