"I intend to visit my hometown, Sir," Badai said to his father, Hartawan.
"And in the meantime, I am handing over affairs here to Mrs. Silvi," said Badai, sitting across from his father.
Silvi was a 40-year-old woman. She had worked for and been with the company led by Badai for a long time. Even before Badai served as CEO, Silvi had dedicated herself to the large company. Her loyalty was beyond question. Therefore, she was entrusted to assist Badai as Deputy Director.
"Go ahead, son. Surely you miss the atmosphere of your hometown," Mr. Hartawan granted his son permission.
"Thank you very much, Sir. I will keep working no matter where I am," Badai said to his father.
"I know that. You would never abandon your work," his father remarked.
"Take bodyguards with you, son," his father added.
"No, Father. I will go alone. In my simplicity. Just like when I left my hometown," Badai told his father, who was sitting in a chair in the villa's living room.
"That is the difference between you and others, son. You don't want to show off what you have achieved and what you have owned all this time," Mr. Hartawan said, proud of Badai.
Badai sat cross-legged at his father's feet and kissed the old man's feet. Mr. Hartawan's eyes glazed over with tears. He felt truly happy to have a son like Badai, even though Badai was only an adopted son.
Badai's feet stepped onto the soil of his birthplace. That afternoon, he had just arrived by high-speed train.
The atmosphere of the hometown wasn't much different from when he left for the city to continue his education.
He carried only a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he was about to step toward a taxi, someone called him from a distance.
"Badai... Badai, is that really you, friend?" a male voice called out from his right.
Badai saw the figure of a man jogging toward him.
"Muchtar?" asked Badai as he recognized who the man was.
"Yeah, it's me. Is there any other Muchtar in this village?" the man called Muchtar asked back. Badai immediately hugged his childhood friend while they patted each other's shoulders.
"You look dashing, Badai," Muchtar praised his friend.
"And you're getting more bearded," Badai chuckled, looking at his friend.
"Yeah, what can I do, friend? There's no time for grooming," Muchtar joked while walking with Badai toward a parked taxi.
"You're going straight to your house, right?" asked Muchtar to Badai, who was opening the taxi door.
"Yes. Come along if you don't have any business here," Badai invited his friend.
The two of them got into the taxi. The taxi sped off toward the east.
Along the way, Muchtar told many stories about the state of their village, making Badai's heart weep. How could the condition of the community be so concerning, not much different from when he left?
Government officials didn't care at all about the fate of their people; they were euphoric over their people's suffering.
"This cannot be allowed to continue, Tar," Badai said to his friend.
"We can't possibly fight those officials who are surrounded by thugs and bodyguards who don't hesitate to beat people up," revealed Muchtar to Badai.
"Someone has to be brave enough to fight their tyranny," Badai condemned.
"Son, we are just commoners who have no courage," chimed in the taxi driver, who had been listening to the conversation between the two passengers.
"Even if someone dared, the next day they would be found dead in a gruesome state."
"Like what happened to Guntur," revealed the taxi driver.
"Guntur?" asked Badai to the driver.
"Yes, Guntur, our friend, Dai," Muchtar confirmed the taxi driver's words.
"He was found dead after beating up Mr. Jabrik's son," said Muchtar.
Muchtar then recounted what had happened after Badai left the village.
"They are devils in human form." Badai clenched his fists. His chest heaved. His heart burned.
"I will definitely avenge Guntur's death," Badai's voice was full of anger. His face turned red.
"You'd better not do the same thing as Guntur, friend," Muchtar warned Badai.
"If this is allowed to continue, then the treatment and actions of those corrupt officials will only make the people more miserable," said Badai.
"Calm down, my brother. I will be careful. But I must do something," Badai resolved.
"Be careful, my brother." Muchtar knew he could no longer stop what his friend was going to do.
He knew Badai very well. He remembered how, when they were small, Badai always defended his friends from thugs who extorted their money. Badai was like a protector to his friends. But now the situation was different. Badai had to face corrupt officials and their henchmen who did not hesitate to commit violence against anyone who dared to resist.