Handoyo, Owner of Kembang Setaman Discotheque
Meanwhile, at Kembang Setaman Discotheque.
Handoyo had arrived. Together with the old staff and employees, they were cleaning up the shards of broken glasses and bottles left after the fight.
Handoyo looked cheerful. Even though the place was a mess, his heart was happy because Kembang Setaman Discotheque had finally returned to him.
In another corner, twenty members of the Green Gang were also helping to tidy the place.
Karto: "At last, Man. We can be part of Kembang Setaman Discotheque."
Turiman: "Being a security guard is more respectable than being a thug."
Karto and Turiman laughed happily.
Tikno: "Next week we'll be given the official Kembang Setaman Discotheque security uniforms."
Tikno, thin as a rake, couldn't hide his excitement, his body constantly moving.
Handoyo saw the Green Gang enthusiastically cleaning. He approached Karto and Turiman.
Handoyo: "Pak Karto, Pak Turiman, thank you!"
Handoyo shook their hands firmly.
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Karto: "You're welcome, sir!"
Turiman: "Thank you as well, Pak Handoyo."
Karto: "You've given us ex-thugs a chance to be part of Kembang Setaman Discotheque."
Handoyo: "Let's work together well and make it mutually beneficial."
Karto and Turiman exchanged a touched look. Being a thug had always been looked down upon—if something went missing, they were the first to be suspected.
Now they had a chance to be security guards—a much better job than being a thug.
Handoyo was touched too.
And why wouldn't he be? The business he had built since youth—seized by Mariana—had returned to him for free.
It was only right for him to repay the Green Gang by giving them jobs as security.
At last, Handoyo and the Green Gang worked together, both able to support their families.
***
Mardian's Recon-Combat Drone
Meanwhile, on the slopes of Mount Merapi.
A grand building stood in the middle of the forest, surrounded by tall iron fences. Armed men patrolled around it.
Behind the house, a helicopter sat parked atop a large "H."
In the living room, Broto sat smoking his clove cigarette.
Mardian sat beside him, focused on the laptop in front of him, both hands on the drone controller.
The laptop displayed aerial footage of the building's surroundings—captured by Mardian's drone.
Mariana was nowhere in sight.
Broto: "Is the area around us secure, Mardian?"
Mardian: "So far, yes, sir!"
Suddenly, a wave of hot air seeped out from the crack under Mariana's bedroom door.
Broto and Mardian exchanged a glance.
Broto: "The Madam is training."
Mardian looked sharply at Broto, also feeling the heat.
Mardian: "What do you mean, sir?"
Broto didn't answer—he simply gestured for Mardian to stay silent and focus on operating the drone.
***
Mariana Meditates
Meanwhile, inside the room.
Mariana sat cross-legged, regulating her breathing.
Her palms faced upward, resting on her knees. Eyes closed. Breath steady.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. There was a flash in them—a sign of deep irritation.
And why not…?
Her business was under siege. Assets seized by the state. Mass arrests. Betrayal by Rizal and Diono.
Since the appearance of Nagini, her empire had been in disarray.
Slowly, Mariana picked up a paper fan from her lap and rose to her feet.
Her heart burned with anger.
The air in the room was still hot—despite her "just" meditating.
She walked to the dressing table and gazed at her beautiful but scowling face.
She set the paper fan down on the table, then removed her long-sleeved shirt.
Beneath it, powerful muscles ran from shoulder to wrist—like a bodybuilder's.
It was a striking contrast to her delicate, beautiful face.
Mariana picked the fan back up and opened it.
She dropped into a low stance and began moving through a series of martial forms.
The air grew even hotter.
The paper fan hardened like steel.
A red glow surrounded her entire body.
To be continued
