That morning, the air in J-Town felt cool, though the sunlight starting to pierce the streets gave a slightly warmer touch to the morning. Ray strolled leisurely along the crowded sidewalk, his eyes darting left and right, taking in the city's familiar hustle and bustle. This city was tough, just as he had always described it to himself—but something about it kept pulling him in.
Narrow alleys intersected the main road, some of them lined with women sitting outside, dressed conspicuously, leaning against walls as if waiting for someone to arrive. The smell of cigarette smoke and the noise of vehicles filled the air, but to Ray, this was nothing unusual. He had long grown accustomed to such scenes.
Yet, the city's history had left deep scars. In the early days of reform following the fall of the New Order, J-Town underwent drastic changes. Economic turmoil and social shifts after the collapse of the old regime plunged the capital into decline. Once known as a thriving business hub, many skyscrapers were abandoned after political upheavals. Unemployment soared, and amidst the darkness, teenage gangs flourished. They filled the void left by a crumbled system, turning the city into a wasteland—both physically and socially. Over time, J-Town became increasingly unrecognizable, where what was once a symbol of progress now lay in shadows of despair and chaos.
The sweeping changes in J-Town were inseparable from the wave of reform that rocked this country in 1998, a turbulent year that marked a pivotal point in history, transforming the city's face. The collapse of the New Order regime, which had controlled every aspect of life, left a void no one was ready to fill. Reform, meant to bring fresh winds of change, instead ushered in emptiness. For years, J-Town's economy plummeted sharply; major industries shut down, and jobs vanished.
The city that once thrived became a hub of uncertainty. Factories that had once stood firm now lay abandoned, and streets that were once orderly became littered with garbage and graffiti. Teenage gangs, once perhaps mere groups of street kids, began taking over strategic areas of the city. They built their own networks of power, controlling illegal businesses and perpetuating violence. A city once respected was now notorious for its hardened image, and Garuda High School became one of the places that epitomized this social decline.
The riots that swept through the nation's major cities, including J-Town, drastically reshaped the social and economic structures. The loss of central government control triggered a surge in crime, political instability, and social inequality.
J-Town, previously known as a prosperous trading city, had now become a place mired in uncertainty. Districts once filled with grand buildings were now overrun with abandoned and dilapidated structures. Many families lost their livelihoods; those who once worked in formal sectors shifted to the underground economy, which thrived more and more, while tensions between groups intensified. Reform, which was expected to bring positive change, instead opened the floodgates to chaos that shattered many things—including hope for a brighter future. This once-glorious city had become a bleak shadow of its past, a city almost forgotten amidst the anxieties of the era.
However, it wasn't these dark memories that caught Ray's attention that morning. Every now and then, his eyes drifted upward to the blue sky, a stark contrast to the cheerfulness emanating from the bustling city streets. He felt as though two worlds met here—one chaotic and grimy, while the other was full of hope, like the wide-open sky above.
At an intersection, Ray paused briefly, his gaze fixed on a large mural painted on a crumbling wall. It depicted an abstract tiger leaping through flames, flanked by bold letters: "Only the strong survive here." The mural seemed to capture the essence of this city—fierce, wild, and uncompromising. Ray exhaled a short sigh before continuing on his way. J-Town, with all its contradictions and symbolism, was no stranger to him. He strode confidently toward Garuda High School, realizing that the school might reflect the city's soul in a smaller yet equally untamed form.
Garuda High School greeted Ray with an impressive yet weathered sight. The three-story building seemed to echo a grandeur that had long since been buried under the weight of time and neglect. The central rooftop, where the name "Garuda High School" was displayed in faded, peeling paint, stood as the school's highest point. The expansive courtyard at the center of the school, which once might have been a gathering spot for thousands of students, now featured a rusted flagpole, a testament to the vanished pride of its past.
Across the courtyard, a multipurpose sports field remained, though it no longer served its purpose well. A torn volleyball net and battered basketball hoops with faded paint illustrated the dreariness of the scene. The boundary lines of the field, once clear and distinct, now lay as faint remnants. Everything appeared as relics of a forgotten era, neglected and left to decay. Not only inside the school, but even outside, the situation was no better. A vast futsal court behind the building lay similarly abandoned; its sports equipment strewn about, ignored. Only a few individuals lingered there, chatting and occasionally roughhousing among gang members. This stark contrast underscored the lost vigor the school once had.
The bustling chaos of the school remained unchanged, leaving Ray slightly bored. As he walked through the crowd, he sensed an all-too-familiar atmosphere—something he had witnessed countless times elsewhere. An endless routine, rife with competition among students vying to outdo one another. Yet, despite this, there was an undercurrent of tension among them, a restlessness that Ray couldn't fully grasp. This commotion wasn't just about physical strength; it was about who could dominate the situation and assert the highest status.
Ray quickened his pace toward his class, determined to observe more closely and get through the day. Upon arriving at the classroom marked "1A" above its doorway, he was immediately struck by the palpable tension inside. A group of students was locked in a fierce fight, fists flying fast and furiously. They shouted insults at each other, the harsh words echoing through the classroom. Ray watched from a distance, his expression blank, unbothered by the raucous noise around him.
Suddenly, a larger, muscular student turned his gaze toward Ray with a look of hostility. "Hey, new kid! Don't just stand there!" he shouted, stepping forward. "Wanna see what we're made of?!" Without waiting for a response, he launched a powerful kick toward Ray.
Whoosh! The kick sliced through the air, just inches from Ray.
With reflexive speed, Ray raised his right arm, effortlessly blocking the kick. He shifted his body slightly and retaliated with a swift punch to the student's stomach.
Thud! The punch landed with a resounding impact, forcing the larger student to stagger back, clutching his stomach.
Ray stood calmly, staring down at the reeling student. "What else?" he asked flatly, unfazed by the confrontation.
No one answered, but another student, slimmer but equally aggressive, stepped forward. He aimed a kick at Ray's side.
Swish! Ray deftly dodged, ducking and raising his knee to block the attack.
Crack! The collision of their limbs echoed through the room as Ray stood his ground.
Not wasting a moment, Ray spun and executed a sweeping kick that took out his opponent's legs.
Whump! The student hit the floor hard, rolling helplessly. Ray exhaled sharply as he glanced at him.
But the fight wasn't over. A taller, lankier student charged from the side, unleashing a flurry of punches aimed at Ray's face.
Bam! Bam! Bam! The punches flew, but all struck empty air. With lightning precision, Ray parried and countered with a sharp jab to the attacker's face.
Smack! The punch connected solidly, sending the student stumbling backward, blood dripping from his mouth.
All of this unfolded in mere seconds. In no time, Ray had subdued the group, leaving them sprawled on the floor, writhing in pain. The once-confident students now lay defeated, groaning softly.
Ray calmly exited the classroom, as if nothing had happened. Silence enveloped the room momentarily, all eyes fixed on him, awestruck by what they had just witnessed. No one dared to utter a word. Only faint whispers filled the air as Ray walked away, but no one had the courage to challenge him. Class 1A became a space filled with tension, its students exchanging glances, silently questioning how a new student could be so formidable in such a short time.
Meanwhile, Ray continued down the empty corridor, his stride unhurried. His steps halted when a figure with an equally commanding aura approached. The man's build was almost identical to Ray's—tall, solid, and balanced. But there was one thing that set him apart: his long hair cascaded over his shoulders, moving fluidly with his deliberate, calm movements. His gaze was sharp, as though it could pierce through anything before him. Like Ray, the man walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his steps measured and confident.
Five steps further, and they both stopped. The breeze that drifted through carried a chill, making the space between them feel vast despite their proximity. Though they didn't turn to look, both knew they were keenly aware of each other. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze; it was just the two of them in that silent corridor, suspended in a tension filled with meaning. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they moved on, each walking away, leaving the corridor with the implicit understanding that this wouldn't be their last encounter.
At the back of the school, Ray arrived at an abandoned cafeteria. The place looked like a relic of the past, its walls covered in graffiti and cracks, while the wooden tables were moldy and frail. In one of the darker corners stood Rony, a wide grin spreading across his face. Without a word, they exchanged a casual fist bump, greeting each other in their familiar way. Despite the mess around them, they seemed unfazed, ready to dive into a conversation.
Rony began by patting Ray on the shoulder. "You know, this used to be the cafeteria. But after the 1B gang took over, it became our base."
Ray simply nodded, listening intently. "So, this is your territory?"
"Yeah," Rony replied, glancing around. "This is where our crew hangs out, talks, trains—you name it."
"What's your gang called?" Ray asked plainly.
"Brotherhood," Rony answered without hesitation.
Ray scanned the surroundings. Despite the dilapidated state of the place and its quietness, there was a palpable energy in the air, as if this was more than just an abandoned cafeteria. It felt like a stronghold of hidden power.
"Speaking of gangs, Garuda High is all about hierarchy, Ray," Rony continued. "You start at the bottom and climb your way up. That's how we survive here. Every gang has its own turf, and they're constantly fighting for dominance."
Ray stayed silent for a moment. This wasn't new to him. He'd heard about the social hierarchies in tough schools before. But there was something different about Garuda High. The tension here was so thick it was almost tangible, as if every student was part of an unspoken grand game.
"So, we're going to have to face these gangs?" Ray asked, seeking clarity.
Rony nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, but it's not just about fighting. The hardest part is showing who's in control, who deserves to be on top."
Rony paused, his expression growing heavier. "So far, I haven't managed to beat him. He's just too strong, even with backup from the rest of the gang."
"Is he really that strong?" Ray asked, his curiosity piqued.
"You could say he's one of the big players here. He seems to have strong connections outside of school, and his gang has been in power for a long time."
Ray nodded slowly, processing the information. "Wait," he said softly. "Is there anyone stronger than him?"
Rony hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the cracked ceiling of the abandoned cafeteria. "Yes, there is. Like I said, in the first-year level, it's not just Adhipati who leads a gang. There's also Ganjar Tama, the leader of the Class 1C gang. He's known for his large, muscular build, and his strength is no joke. When people talk about him, they immediately focus on his physical power. From what I know, he's also a quiet type, much like Adhipati. He doesn't exploit his reputation to start trouble, but when he acts, everyone steps aside."
Ray responded with a slow nod. "So, he relies more on brute strength than strategy in a fight?"
"Exactly. That's what the rumors say, though not everyone has seen how he fights firsthand," Rony replied. "Many say no one dares to go up against him unless they're absolutely certain of their own strength."
Rony paused briefly before continuing, "But it's not just Ganjar Tama. There's one more person you should know about: Tommy Mantyo, the leader of the Class 1D gang. He's different from Ganjar. While Ganjar is famous for his physical strength, Tommy is known as a tactician. He's excellent at reading situations, which is why his gang often comes out on top in clashes. Even though he's not as physically imposing as Ganjar, he's just as intimidating. With his quick and cunning mind, Tommy can trap anyone who underestimates him."
Ray raised an eyebrow. "So, Tommy relies more on brains than brawn?"
"You could say that," Rony replied with a nod. "But there's one more thing about Tommy you need to know. He's a very mysterious figure. He rarely shows up at school, and no one really knows why. But when he does, the entire atmosphere changes. Even those who usually look for trouble go silent and keep their distance. The impression he leaves is… chilling. Whether it's his aura or the knowledge that he's someone you don't want to mess with, no one takes him lightly."
Ray pondered this for a moment. "So, if I want to climb to the top, I have to take down people like them first?"
Rony nodded. "If you can defeat them, people will start respecting you, Ray. But it won't be easy; they're not opponents you can beat easily."
In Ray's mind, one thing became increasingly clear—his path to dominating Garuda High would not be easy. Every step would need to be taken carefully, but to control this chaotic world, he would have to become stronger than all of them.
Rony continued to look at Ray seriously, his expression slightly tense. "Listen, Ray," he said in a firm and heavy tone. "Don't be reckless. Don't ever think conquering Garuda High is easy. This isn't a place for playing games. If you rely only on your strength without strategy, you'll burn out faster than you think." Rony took a deep breath, his sharp eyes still locked on Ray. "You might be stronger than many people here, but that doesn't mean you can win just with that. Everyone in this school has their own strengths. And we never know how strong they are until we face them directly."
Ray stood silent for a moment, listening closely to Rony's words. Every word felt like a deep warning, and though he was confident in his physical abilities, he knew what he was facing was far more complex than just defeating someone in a fight.
"Garuda High isn't just full of thugs, Ray. There are a lot of people stronger than us," Rony continued, his tone softer this time. "Even you. Everyone here has their own reasons, and it's not just about physical strength. Here, you have to know when to fight, when to retreat, and when to play behind the scenes."
Ray listened, showing no signs of shock or doubt. Instead, the fire in his eyes seemed to burn brighter. "I understand," Ray replied, his voice calm but filled with determination. "But I won't back down. I'll face every challenge ahead, and if I have to, I'll become the strongest here."
The conversation ended there, but Rony's words continued to echo in Ray's mind. Though he knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, Ray's spirit and ambition burned brighter. He fully understood that reaching the top of Garuda High would require more than just physical strength. But one thing was certain—he wouldn't stop until he achieved what he wanted.
With a loud voice, Rony called out to the members of Brotherhood scattered around them. The previously warm and conversational atmosphere suddenly shifted to one of silence. One by one, the gang members, who had been lounging around casually, began to gather, forming a circle around Rony and Ray. All eyes were fixed on the two of them, curious about what Rony was about to say.
Rony stood tall in the center, his arms crossed over his chest. "Listen up," he said, his voice ringing out with authority. "From this moment on, the leadership of Brotherhood is passing into Ray's hands."
The room fell silent. Everyone stared at Rony with disbelief, their brows furrowed, or their eyes shifting to Ray with questioning looks.
Ray, still standing beside Rony, was stunned by the announcement. He looked at Rony for a moment, trying to determine if this was some kind of joke, but there was no trace of deception or humor on his friend's face. "Me?" Ray managed to say just one word. No plan, no preparation—everything felt so sudden and urgent.
But Rony maintained his steady, confident gaze, nodding slightly. "I've known you since we were in middle school, Ray. I know who you really are. And I've never doubted for a second that you're the right person to lead this gang. You have everything we need to survive—and more than that, to go even further."
The Brotherhood members, who had been listening, began murmuring among themselves, though none dared to challenge the decision. Their eyes now shifted toward Ray, filled with curiosity and anticipation. They understood that Rony's choices were never random. Since the beginning, Rony had shared a bond with Ray that went beyond mere friendship. And now, it was time for Ray to prove himself worthy of the trust Rony had placed in him.
Ray turned to look at each Brotherhood member, feeling the weight of their expectant stares. He exhaled deeply, then nodded with firm conviction. "I accept this decision. From now on, we'll move forward together, no matter what comes our way. Brotherhood will stay strong," Ray declared, his voice steady, though there was a hint of hesitation in the beginning.
With those words, the atmosphere around them gradually began to shift. The Brotherhood members, who had been surprised moments earlier, now started nodding in agreement. Some showed their approval outright, while others stood silently, their faces reflecting a newfound respect. They did not question Rony's decision. They could already sense the commanding aura emanating from Ray, something different—something that hinted at a change to come.
Rony smiled, satisfied with the outcome. "You've got this, Ray," he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "And all of you, listen up—starting now, we'll all stand behind Ray as our new leader. This is the start of a new chapter. Don't let him down."
One by one, the Brotherhood members began to disperse, returning to their usual activities. The decision had been made, and now Ray was tasked with leading the Brotherhood in his own way. This marked the beginning of an even greater challenge.