4 - Bambang Maulana - The Last Stare That Hit the Wrong Target

Chapter 4: Bambang Maulana - The Last Stare That Hit the Wrong Target

Bambang Maulana was just an ordinary guy.

A factory worker, riding the same old Suzuki Carry minivan angkot every morning, always bringing his egg-omelet lunchbox from home.

(An angkot (short for angkutan kota, or "city transport") is Indonesia's version of a shared taxi or public minibus.)

But his life flipped 180 degrees...

all because of one stare.

---

Subchapter: A Bad Morning Starts With a Thigh

That morning, Bambang hopped into a dark-blue Suzuki Carry angkot (angkot is city transport minivan) headed to Kebon Mawar-Semangka Indah.

Only four passengers.

Bambang took the corner seat.

Then a long-haired dude with a faded denim jacket got in... and sat right next to him-even though the whole row was empty.

Bambang instantly felt something was off.

Sure enough, the guy's hand slowly crept onto his left thigh.

"Hey! What the hell?!"

Bambang shouted, sliding away.

The other passengers turned to look.

The long-haired guy just grinned, his face red.

Bambang grabbed his phone. Snap.

Photo taken.

Not to report him... just for self-defense.

"Don't mess with someone who rides the same damn minivan angkot every day, bro," he muttered as he got off.

---

Subchapter: Revenge of a Failed Pickpocket

The long-haired guy took it personally.

He wasn't some newbie pickpocket.

But that day, he got caught before stealing anything.

His face might spread online. Could go viral.

He couldn't sleep that night.

Then he got an idea:

frame the victim.

---

Subchapter: The Next Morning - A Planned Setup

The next morning, Bambang got off at his usual stop.

He didn't know the long-haired guy was following him from afar.

As Bambang walked toward the factory gate...

The guy bumped him hard from behind, then slipped his own wallet into Bambang's pocket.

"THIEF! THIEEEEF!"

he screamed, pointing at Bambang.

People swarmed instantly.

"What's going on?!"

"Check his pockets!"

Angry neighbors tore open Bambang's bag, his back pocket-

And there it was:

the wallet.

With the guy's ID.

"See?! That's my name!"

he shouted proudly.

Bambang froze. Panicked.

"You-you're the guy from yesterday! You tried to rob me on the minivan!"

"Liar! You're flipping the story!"

But Bambang's voice drowned in the crowd's rage.

That day, the mob came faster than common sense.

Bambang begged them to listen.

But what he got instead...

were fists.

And in minutes, his body stopped moving.

Later, the video exposing the setup surfaced.

But regret can't resurrect the dead.

Raka still remembered Bambang's last stare.

It wasn't anger.

It was disappointment.

A stare that said:

"You didn't even want to hear me first... did you?"

People recorded.

People watched.

But nobody saved him.

And the world believed Bambang was a thief.

When in truth-

he was the victim.

A victim of a righteous stare aimed at the wrong man.

---

Subchapter: After That

The long-haired guy ran.

Ran with his false innocence.

Ran with a lie.

Ran with Bambang's life.

The Social Stare Movement hadn't gone viral yet.

But one thing was clear:

When truth is weaponized by evil people,

the result is far worse than any lie.

---

Subchapter: Arif Setiawan - The Angel Who Got Framed

"Presidents aren't gods," Arif Setiawan muttered.

"And we're not robots," his assistant added.

"Exactly. But now... everyone expects perfection. Perfection just makes us miserable. I'm tired of people pretending they're holy."

"So what's the solution, sir?"

"Be normal. But be honest."

Arif Setiawan wasn't just anyone.

He was the Chairman of the Anti-Corruption Commission of the Republic of Gulali (Cotton Candy).

Straight, stiff, humorless.

If a minister stole 2 billion rupiah, Arif could rage like someone cheated on him during his wedding vows.

Because of his integrity, he was hated-

especially by those who wore white uniforms but had exhaust-pipe-black hearts.

---

Subchapter: When "Social Stare" Became a Political Weapon

The Social Stare Movement used to be harmless-just a silent stare at rule-breakers.

But when President Bagas Prawira and his son Riko turned it into a national campaign... everything spiraled.

TV stations aired:

"STARE OR PERISH!"

"Let's glare at the nation's traitors!"

Billboards along the toll road screamed:

"Corruptors FEAR our stare!"

Joko Wiryawan, once just an elementary school teacher with a deadly glare, suddenly became a Facebook celebrity.

But Joko knew... the movement was going off the rails.

---

Subchapter: Next Target - Gunawan Saleh

Gunawan Saleh, former Minister of Finance, was slipperier than a greased eel.

He was stupid rich.

His house was bigger than a five-star hotel.

But when Arif started investigating a fictional project to build a toll road extending into outer space," Gunawan panicked.

"You can't bribe this guy," he told his men.

So the mission began:

Destroy Arif.

---

Subchapter: The Manufactured Scandal

Fake WhatsApp messages.

Edited video clips.

Fake Telegram accounts "belonging to Arif."

Everything arranged neatly.

The content?

Sexual.

One message said:

"Wear red tonight... to match all our sins."

Arif had never even installed Telegram.

The next morning, #ArifThePervert trended on Twitter.

Buzzer accounts flooded the timeline with edited pictures.

Mom-group WhatsApps went wild:

"Wow, he pretended to be pure-turns out... you know..."

---

Subchapter: Poison & Prison

Not enough with defamation, that night-

when Arif came home from the mosque-

he drank tea from a bottle that had been poisoned.

He went into a coma for two days.

When he woke up, instead of being treated...

Police arrested him.

> Charges:

moral scandal, bribery, and defamation of the government.

Arif was thrown into a special cell,

with rats as roommates

and a bathroom that smelled like a busted sewer.

---

Subchapter: His Son Gets Bullied

Arif's 12-year-old son used to be top of his class.

Now he was homeschooled.

His school desk was vandalized:

"Pervert's kid!"

"Acting holy, but rotten!"

His friends unfollowed him.

Teachers kept their distance.

Even the PE teacher said:

"Just... stay away during soccer, okay?"

The kid stayed silent.

But every night, he cried into his pillow.

---

Subchapter: The Ticket to Heaven

On the 9th day at the hospital (after the poison relapsed),

Arif made wudhu (ablution) and went to the mushollah (tiny prayer room).

He prayed Fajr in congregation.

During prayer,

a fanatic supporter of President Bagas sneaked up behind him...

Shnk.

A kitchen knife slid into Arif's back.

Arif turned, eyes clear, lips moving as if whispering:

"I forgive you..."

Meanwhile, Raka Maulana-fifth grader of SDN 07 Republic of Gulali (State Elementary School 07 "Republik Gulali")-wasn't a normal kid anymore.

His brother Bambang had been beaten to death, framed by the real pickpocket.

And Raka knew exactly who did it.

Since then, Raka changed.

Stopped drawing Naruto.

Stopped buying rainbow popsicles.

Every night he wrote in a diary hidden under his bed:

"Justice doesn't come from angels.

It comes from courage."

---

Subchapter: The Bloody-Pee Plan

Raka dug for info:

The pickpocket's name was Wawan "Gembel (gembel is homeless)."

Ojek (motorcycle taxi) driver at Alfamart Semangka Indah.

Small dragon tattoo on his right arm.

Black Honda Beat with bent rims.

Exhaust sound like a fart being held in.

Raka asked Mr. Joko Wiryawan for help.

"Sir... I want to meet the man who killed my brother."

Joko stayed silent long enough for a fly to reconsider its life choices.

"You're gonna kill him, Raka?"

"No, sir... I'm just gonna pee first. Then... we'll see."

---

Subchapter: Operation Pee

Saturday morning.

Raka wore an oversized jacket, long pants, and a cap low enough to hide his eyes.

He ordered an ojek.

The driver?

The long-haired guy himself.

"To Jeruk Peres Cemetery, please," Raka whispered.

Near an old tombstone, Raka asked him to stop.

"Mister, I need to pee behind that frangipani tree."

As the bike stopped-

WHAM!

Joko Wiryawan jumped out from behind a big banyan tree, dragging a plastic-rope trap and a face like he'd just graded 40 identical homework answers.

They tackled the guy to the ground.

Tied him up. Covered his face.

Forced him to squat.

He panted heavily.

Raka stood in front of him.

Unzipped his pants.

And peed on the man's face.

"THIS IS FOR MY BROTHER, YOU IDIOT!"

---

Subchapter: Knife & Fear

The pickpocket cursed.

His face red like a boiled tomato.

"You little brat!"

Raka pulled out a kitchen knife.

Thin blade.

Red plastic handle.

Price sticker still half-attached: $0.40.

"You think peeing is enough?! My brother died because of you!"

He pointed the knife at the man's throat.

His hand shook.

Eyes watery-but steady.

"If I cut your neck right now... is that justice?"

The man started sobbing.

Then he... peed himself.

No joke.

His pants turned dark.

The smell hit like betrayal and urine.

---

Subchapter: The Saving Sentence

Joko stepped forward.

"Raka."

Raka didn't look.

"Don't, kid. One stab is still one too many."

Joko placed a hand on his shoulder.

"The best revenge... is forgiveness."

Raka cried.

The knife dropped.

He fell to the ground, shoulders shaking.

"Sir... I'm so angry. I hate him so much..."

Joko hugged him from the side.

"I know, Raka. And yes-an eye for an eye sounds fair.

But don't become who they are."

---

Subchapter: End of That Day

Joko untied the pickpocket.

"Go.

But remember... today you were saved by a kid whose life you destroyed."

The man ran, trembling, pants still wet, looking like a goat after being sprayed with a water hose.

Raka stood up, wiped his face, and said:

"I can't forgive you yet.

But I won't become a killer like you."

---

Subchapter: That Night's Status

Raka borrowed his father's phone.

Updated Facebook:

"Today I won.

Not because I hurt someone.

But because I held the knife back."

Comments:

"What anime did you watch, kid?"

"Cool, bro."

"Whose child is this??"

Raka didn't reply.

He knew Bambang saw it.

And Bambang...

was definitely smiling.

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