Jakarta 21:00 WIB
The Police Headquarters wasn't a place anymore. It felt like a glass cage. Officers who had worked with Pistachio for years now looked at him with a mix of pity and curiosity, like they were sizing him up. They didn't see a detective; they saw a target.
"You have to leave, Pis, " Malik whispered, his voice barely loud enough to hear over the server fans. "The Commissioner is under a lot of pressure. If people think we're hiding a criminal. Even if it's you, they'll. Burn this building down."
Pistachio didn't look up from his screen. "I'm not leaving until I find the problem, Malik. Every machine has a flaw. The Executioner says he's fair. He's using data from humans. Human data comes from anger, gossip, and incomplete facts."
Suddenly, all screens in the bullpen flickered. The fluorescent lights buzzed loudly, making Pistachio's teeth ache.
"Detective Pistachio," a distorted voice came through the intercom. "Do you know why you're on the list? It's not for the cases you didn't solve. It's for the one you did."
The room went cold. Pistachio felt a chill run down his spine. Ten years ago. The case that had ruined his career.
"You arrested a man named Aris. A simple thief. You followed the law. You put him in jail for five years for stealing a politician's watch. While he was inside, his daughter died because they couldn't afford her medicine. The politician? He bought a watch with the bribe money he took the next day."
"I followed the law!" Pistachio shouted at the ceiling, his voice shaking. "The law doesn't care about the consequences of a man's poverty! It only cares about the act!"
"That's your mistake, Pistachio. You're a part of a machine. You serve the system, not the people. Your attention to detail is a weapon used by the powerful to hurt the weak. That's your debt. A life for a life."
Malik grabbed Pistachio's arm. "We have to go. Now. He's hacking the building's security. He's going to trap us."
They ran for the emergency stairs just as the heavy fire doors slammed shut. The elevators groaned, going down to the basement on their own. The "Garden" was taking over the precinct.
They reached Pistachios' sedan in the underground parking lot. The city outside was empty, lit by the neon glow of "Justice is Coming" signs.
"Where are we going?" Malik asked, breathing heavily.
"To the place the digital eye can't see, " Pistachio said, starting the car. "The archives of the Old City. The paper records. If the Executioner is a creature of the world of social media and online footprints, he won't have the files that were never uploaded."
As they sped through Jakarta's streets, Pistachio looked in the rearview mirror. He didn't see a police car. He saw a drone, a black dot, with a blinking red eye following them from the clouds.
The "Malaikat Maut" wasn't just watching; he was waiting for the moment to strike. Pistachio realized that to save himself, he had to prove that the "Zero-Debt Theory" was wrong. That some debts could never be paid with blood, with the very thing the Executioner had deleted: Context.
"He thinks the world is simple, " Pistachio whispered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "White.. Bad. I'm going to show him the Grey."