I didn't have time to process the damn news about Surya's death. Aisyah's gaze hurt more — it stabbed right through me. Her fear was enormous, as if I were the one who'd killed Surya in that old warehouse. She had to be safe from me. I had to leave right now to save her from this dangerous situation.
I approached her slowly, trying to take her hand again. But she immediately pushed me away, moving away from me while crying.
"Don't touch me, Gamali! You're cruel! You're the one who killed all those people, right? You're the one who caused all this chaos!" Aisyah shouted with a hoarse, accusing voice that hurt.
"It wasn't me, Aisyah. I'm not the one," I tried to explain as quickly as I could. My tongue felt numb. The fact that she accused me felt unbearably painful. I didn't have time to argue. The enemy must already know I was here. I had to go; it was the only way to keep her safe from this cruel network.
I looked at her with a gaze full of regret. An overwhelming guilt stabbed my chest. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay here, promise me. Don't leave the room, lock it tight," I whispered quickly. I turned around and ran out of the motel room.
I drove my rented motorbike as fast as I could, away from the shabby motel that now felt like a deadly trap. Cold sweat drenched my whole back. I could feel the anger in my head from Aisyah's accusations. Andaru's death was a devastating surprise that ruined all my revenge plans.
I had to find a safer hideout. I also had to think about my next moves right away. Andaru's house was surely being guarded tightly; there was no way I could go back there to look for more clues. I took a shortcut toward my old housing complex. Hopefully nobody would look for me there for a while.
Just as I turned into the last corner, my eyes narrowed at the sight of many people in front of my alley. Dozens of people were gathered there. Camera lights and flashes immediately dazzled my eyes. I was shocked.
They knew I was here. The Shadow network moved very fast. They must have already spread those vicious false reports. My heart pounded hard. A cold, bad premonition crawled quickly down my spine. I was trapped between bright spotlights and an angry crowd.
I slammed on the brakes. A female reporter thrust a large microphone in front of my pale face. Her gaze was sharp, full of judgment and accusation. Her shouted voice rang clearly among the crowd.
"Gamali! Is it true your family is involved in this cruel international organ syndicate? Aren't you the mastermind behind it?" she asked in a piercing, accusatory tone.
My lips pressed together tight and stiff. I couldn't speak. My tongue felt numb to hear the insane accusations they'd just thrown out in public. This damned media must have been set up to completely destroy me. The vicious slander hit my solar plexus, shattering the last of my family's good name.
Local residents who had gathered started yelling angrily, loud and intimidating. "Catch him! Murderer! Organ thief! Don't run, you stinking bastard! Don't soil our village!" they shouted without stopping.
I had no choice but to flee from the increasingly aggressive crowd. I spun my motorbike around quickly, but it was too late. Dozens of people immediately surrounded me with hateful looks. Someone in the front row threw a large rock at me.
The rock struck my head very hard. My vision went fuzzy and excruciating pain hit me. Fresh blood gushed from my temple, soaking my face and dirtying my jacket. I staggered, almost falling off the wobbling rented motorbike.
I felt a barrage of blows strike my body and back — brutal hits filled with rage and hatred. "Answer, you bringer of misfortune! Where's the corpse? You must die here right now!" someone in the crowd yelled, his voice loud and cold.
I screamed in pain. The dizziness was overwhelming, but I couldn't fall. I summoned my last strength. I kicked the motorbike until it toppled, then I jumped over a nearby house fence to escape the mob's fury.
The fence was tall and sharp, but the adrenaline in my blood made me forget the pain in my stomach. I ran hard without direction, passing through narrow, dark, filthy alleys. My steps felt heavy; my breath was ragged, holding the ache in my battered body.
I knew I couldn't run forever. I had to find a definitely safe place soon. Suddenly, the old warehouse in North Jakarta flashed through my chaotic mind. That warehouse was Andaru's old base, the place where he'd first met Rio.
I forced myself to run again toward the main road. I flagged down a passing cab at high speed. "Drive straight to North Jakarta! Fast! Don't ask questions, you hear me!" I shouted at the driver. My voice sounded threatening and urgent.
The taxi driver looked at me with frightened eyes, seeing my bloody, dirty face. He nodded fearfully and sped off. I leaned my head against the worn seatback, trying to catch my ragged breath.
During the long-feeling trip, I tried calling Aisyah again. Her phone was completely dead. Worry surged, flooding my thoughts with terrible images of Aisyah alone. I prayed she was okay. She must be safe at that motel.
Those media and mob accusations had truly destroyed my normal, peaceful life. My good name was completely ruined; I had become a wanted fugitive. This was no longer just about revenge — it was about surviving all the vile slander they spread.
I felt that strange vibration again in my right palm. It was stronger and hotter than before. The symbol felt as if it were alive and trying to tell me something. I gripped the pendant of Aisyah that I still held in my pants pocket.
I got out of the cab in a very secluded, quiet industrial area. I handed over cash without waiting for change. I hid behind piles of old containers, searching for the empty warehouse Surya had mentioned before.
The warehouse looked gloomy and huge, surrounded by thick, mossy cement walls. I forced open the rusty iron door with difficulty, slipped inside, and quickly shut it behind me.
The smell of dust, mildew, and rust hit my nose sharply, making me cough softly. The place felt cold, silent, and very dark. I took a small flashlight from my bag, turned it on, and began exploring every corner of the eerie warehouse.
In the middle of the empty warehouse was a frail wooden table. On it were an empty whiskey bottle and an ashtray full of cigarette butts. That had to be the table Surya and Andaru used to plan all their dirty crimes.
I approached, pushed the old ashtray aside, and found something small and hard beneath it. It was a tiny black flash drive, deliberately hidden there. My heart raced; adrenaline pumped through me.
I was sure this flash drive contained important clues about the network. I stuffed it into my pocket quickly. My hands moved carefully and precisely. Anger and vengeance flared through me again.
They had destroyed me — ruined my family and my future, kidnapped Aisyah, and now accused me as the killer and head of some filthy syndicate. I would never let them get away with it. I would avenge all their disgusting crimes.
I hated Surya, I hated Andaru, I hated this cursed network. I hated myself for being so stupid and trapped in this mess. I took a very deep breath, trying to calm my turbulent emotions.
As I combed through each corner of the cold warehouse, I searched for other things Andaru or maybe Surya might have left. I walked to the darkest corner of the room and saw a black tarp-covered shape.
I pulled the dirty tarp aside slowly and carefully. Under it lay a black leather backpack. A small Korpora logo was clearly stamped on the corner of the bag. The logo shimmered oddly under my flashlight beam.
I opened the zipper with trembling hands and a racing heart. Inside were a bottled water, several packs of instant noodles, and a small laptop covered with stickers.
The laptop still felt warm, as if someone had just used it. It must be Andaru's laptop used to contact his network. Surya had told me about this before.
I turned the laptop on. No password prompt appeared on the screen. Of course, Andaru must have been confident no one would find this place. The screen lit up brightly, blinding and strange in the dark room.
I quickly searched the desktop folders for strange files or secret documents that might have been left behind. There were many locked folders I couldn't open, but one file was unlocked and immediately drew my attention.
I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on the small screen reading the text. The file had just been opened. It was clearly labeled in capital letters that irritated my vision.
"BIN_Traitor"
Wait a second. BIN? State Intelligence Agency? What the hell is all this? My eyes widened in shock. My breath stopped for a moment, and a coldness wrapped around me again. What kind of betrayal was being carried out by the State Intelligence Agency?
I tried to click the file. But at that exact moment, the main light in the warehouse suddenly switched on. I nearly jumped out of my skin. The iron door behind me slammed open with an ear-splitting, terrifying noise.
I panicked and turned to look behind me. Two big men in all-black clothing stood in the doorway. Their faces were covered with cloth masks. One of them pointed a pistol straight at my head.
They weren't the Shadow people who had chased Aisyah the other day. They looked more professional and very dangerous. I knew I couldn't run anymore. I was trapped completely in this cruel trap.
"Hands up, Gamali! Don't move a muscle, or you die here for nothing!" one of them barked in a deep, threatening voice.
I clenched my right hand hard, feeling the pulse of heat intensify in my palm. Along with the hatred and rage that surged. Those who came looking for trouble with me — I wouldn't run anymore, I would fight.