That night, the air of Jakarta felt unbearably heavy. Rain had just subsided, leaving puddles across the streets that shimmered under the city’s neon glow. Inside a dimly lit office, Devandra sat motionless in his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on nothing in particular. His fingers tapped slowly against the mahogany desk, each knock echoing like the rhythm of his calculations.

“It’s time we start breaking them,” he muttered under his breath, the words carrying both venom and anticipation.

Raga, his trusted right hand, glanced toward him cautiously. “Do you want me to mobilize the shadows, sir?”

Devandra’s lips curved faintly, though the expression carried no warmth. “Yes. Arga is...