Ezra was still sleepy. His eyes felt heavy, but he refused to fall asleep again. It wasn't because the place was unfamiliar. He simply couldn't sleep on an empty stomach.
It would be better to fill his stomach first, rest for a while, and then ask them to take him home.
Ezra got to his feet and slowly walked to the door. He had just turned the doorknob when he hesitated. It felt a little awkward to come out just to ask for food. However, as he was about to close the door again, his hand stopped when he heard Damar and his friend talking outside.
Ezra listened carefully. From what he heard, he drew a conclusion: Damar and Ajeng had dated, but Ajeng had cheated on him with a man named Marvin. Damar felt that the two of them had ruined his life and wanted justice. Justice? All because his girlfriend had been stolen? And the money Ezra had promised would probably be used by Damar to search for that girl all the way in Germany.
Ah, love was complicated. His own love life was unrequited. That was why Ezra couldn't be bothered to think about romance.
Since his stomach could no longer be reasoned with, Ezra deliberately closed the door, then opened it again a little harder to interrupt their conversation, which had actually already ended.
"Sleep well?" Damar asked.
"Hmm," Ezra replied shortly. "Even five minutes of sleep was enough to recharge my energy." He immediately pulled out a chair and sat beside Damar. "You said you were going to make me something to eat. Where is it?"
"Oh, right." Damar lightly slapped his forehead. "Hang on."
Damar went to the kitchen and returned with a plate of rice, an omelet, fried tempeh, and stir-fried water spinach that had been covered by a food dome.
Ezra stared at the food without much appetite. "Pretty bare-bones," he muttered, remembering Damar's promise back in the forest.
"Just eat. Don't be so picky," Damar's friend scolded, looking uncomfortable at the way Ezra was staring at the food.
"Ezra, this is Yuda," Damar said, introducing his friend. Then he pointed at Ezra. "Yuda, this is Ezra."
"Hmm," Ezra responded lazily. "I'm paying a hundred million. You should at least serve me something a little better."
"Two hundred million," Yuda corrected quickly.
"He hasn't taken me home yet, so he's only getting a hundred million for now."
"Damar, you'd better take this kid home soon," Yuda grumbled, growing more annoyed by Ezra's behavior.
"I'll take him after he eats," Damar said calmly. Then he looked at Ezra. "Eat plenty, so you'll have the energy to see your parents."
Ezra didn't answer. By his standards, the food in front of him was nowhere near luxurious. But because he was hungry—and because Damar's concerned tone sounded strangely soothing—he started eating anyway.
"What are you going to use the two hundred million for?" Ezra asked between bites.
"Haven't thought about it yet."
"Where do you work?" Ezra began interrogating him.
"I do delivery work."
"How much do you make a day?"
"Enough to eat."
"You really have the two hundred million, right?" Yuda cut in doubtfully. "You're not making this up, are you?"
"Are you saying I'm lying?" Ezra took offense, throwing Yuda a sarcastic look. "You know Jayanta Group, right?"
Damar and Yuda exchanged glances. Their foreheads creased in confusion.
"Take out your phones and search for it online," Ezra suggested, clearly too lazy to explain.
When neither of them made a move, Ezra sighed.
"You don't have any data? You two are such data beggars," Ezra sneered. "Use my money to buy some later. Buy some for your friend too." He jerked his chin toward Yuda.
Damar chose to ignore the rambling and went back to enjoying his grilled sticky rice.
"You seriously don't know Jayan Royal or Jayanmart?" Ezra pressed again.
"Jayanmart?" Yuda responded. "I used to work there."
"That Jayanmart?" Damar asked Yuda to confirm.
"Yeah," Yuda said with a nod. "The one whose boss is fat, bald, and unbelievably stingy."
"Man, you were really unlucky," Ezra mocked.
"So unlucky that I ended up—" Yuda abruptly clamped a hand over his mouth. He was still irritated by what had happened in the past, even though he still regretted it.
Seeing Yuda suddenly turn gloomy, Damar decided to change the subject. "Grandma Ipon's condition has improved. We can go home tomorrow."
"Go home where?" Ezra cut in.
"Semarang."
"You two aren't from here?"
"No."
"This isn't your house?"
"No."
"Then whose house is it?"
"Grandma Ipon's."
"Who is Grandma Ipon?" Ezra asked in rapid succession, like a census taker.
"Even if we explained, you wouldn't know her," Yuda cut in lazily.
Ezra kept eating until he polished off the entire plate. In the end, whether the food was high-class or ordinary, everything tasted good when you were hungry.
"I'm the youngest in my family." Ezra set down his spoon, then downed his water. "My dad's a successful businessman. The business world is brutal. You never know who's a friend and who's an enemy. Besides, this isn't the first time I've been kidnapped. My dad once hired a bodyguard to protect me, but I hated it. I was constantly monitored and followed everywhere. That's why..."
Ezra turned and looked at Damar beside him.
"I want you to be my bodyguard."
Damar's eyes widened. Yuda, who was chewing grilled sticky rice, choked.
"You should find someone with more experience," Damar refused gently.
"How much does it pay?" Yuda shot back.
"I like your enthusiasm." Ezra flashed a wide smile. "Five million a week."
"Deal!" Yuda exclaimed without the slightest hesitation.
"He's the one who agreed," Damar said, pointing at Yuda.
"But I want you," Ezra insisted.
Damar stared blankly at Ezra. He wasn't interested. He did need money, but becoming a personal bodyguard risked dragging him into complicated trouble that could endanger both himself and the person he was protecting.
"Dam, come with me for a second," Yuda whispered, motioning for Damar to follow him into the kitchen.
They stepped behind the kitchen wall. Yuda lowered his voice so Ezra wouldn't hear, occasionally glancing toward the dining table.
"This is a great opportunity, Dam. Take it!"
"If he finds out I'm an ex-con, I'll be fired immediately."
"Then don't tell him! Nobody will find out. You'll be living in Jakarta, not Semarang. The chances of running into someone who knows about your past are slim."
Damar was still weighing his options.
"When else are you going to get paid five million?" Yuda urged more forcefully. He glanced at Ezra, who was now casually chewing grilled sticky rice. "He's a rich kid. His connections have to be extensive. You can use his network to find out where Ajeng is."
Damar fell silent. Yuda had a point.
"But it feels like I'm taking advantage of him."
"Listen, you've got to stop feeling bad about everything!" Yuda cried in frustration. "If you keep acting like this, people will walk all over you forever. You're the one being punished by society here, while Marvin is living comfortably out there without a care in the world!"
Damar said nothing. Yuda's words had a point.
Ever since he got out of prison, he had been the one forced to bear all of society's stigma. People saw him as a dangerous criminal. There was nowhere that truly welcomed his presence.