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Chapter 3

Author: Skyy
last update publish date: 2026-06-21 23:11:32

“Arka Mahendra.”

That answer shattered the hope that had briefly surfaced.

‘Not him...’

Disappointment flashed through Keira Adhistya's eyes, but another thought quickly emerged, one that felt absurd even to herself. A face so similar, and eyes carrying the same unwavering determination. Perhaps this man's existence could fill the emptiness that had never truly disappeared.

She took a breath, composed herself, and became once again the decisive president of Arta Vistara Group. “There is no need for further testing,” she said. “You're hired.”

An uproar immediately broke out.

The applicants who had come prepared to fight looked at one another in disbelief. Even her assistant was shocked.

“Director, this violates procedure. This gentleman's abilities have not yet been...”

“I've already made my decision.”

Yet the man who had been chosen did not look pleased at all. Arka Mahendra frowned slightly.

“Thank you,” he said calmly. “But I have one condition before accepting the job.”

The entire room grew even noisier. An opportunity of that magnitude, and he still had conditions?

Keira Adhistya raised an eyebrow. The last trace of softness in her eyes vanished. “Speak.”

Arka Mahendra looked directly at her. “I want a salary of one hundred million per year. And a two-year advance payment of two hundred million. I need it now. In return, I will ensure your safety.”

Silence fell over the hall.

Two hundred million in advance? For someone who had not even proven himself?

Keira Adhistya's assistant almost thought this man had come to cause trouble. However, when Keira Adhistya looked into Arka Mahendra's eyes, she saw no greed. There was only calmness and anxiety buried deep within.

The amount was not significant to her. The real issue was the reason behind it.

The room waited for her decision.

Suddenly, someone shouted from the crowd. “I refuse to accept this! Why him? A guy like that gets picked immediately? Is this a selection process or a joke?”

Several others immediately joined in, and the atmosphere heated up.

Keira Adhistya shifted her gaze from Arka Mahendra to the crowd before saying coldly, “Your request can be considered. But you'll have to show your ability.”

Arka Mahendra nodded slightly and walked toward the training arena.

His steps were calm and unhurried. “My time is limited,” he said flatly. “Are you coming all at once, or one by one?”

His words instantly shattered the atmosphere like a spark falling into a pile of gasoline.

“How arrogant!”

“This brat has a death wish!”

“Taking all of us on at once?!”

The anger and jealousy that had been building up exploded immediately. The applicants present were not ordinary people. Some were former soldiers, some were street fighters, and all of them were accustomed to being respected for their strength. Such an open challenge felt like an insult.

Keira Adhistya frowned slightly. She admitted that Arka Mahendra possessed unusual composure, but facing more than twenty experienced men at once still sounded excessive. She wanted to see whether this man was truly capable, or merely talking without substance.

A large man who had protested earlier jumped into the arena first. He stood nearly two meters tall, with a solid muscular build and heavy, steady steps.

“I alone am enough,” he said with a grin. “Let me teach you the meaning of arrogance.”

Without waiting for a response, he threw a fast and powerful straight punch. The air hissed along its path.

Several people below the stage were already smiling, convinced the fight would end instantly.

Arka Mahendra did not move until the final moment. When the fist was about to touch his face, his body shifted, the movement so fast it was nearly invisible to the naked eye.

His figure seemed to disappear from the attack's trajectory. Stepping into close range, his left hand caught the man's wrist and forced it downward while his elbow slammed into the man's ribs with controlled yet devastating force.

“ARGH—”

A muffled groan escaped from his opponent's throat. The large man's strength immediately left him, and he dropped to his knees, his face turning pale.

One move, and it was over.

The training hall suddenly fell silent.

The mockery vanished, replaced by shock. Even the experienced applicants could see the difference. The speed, the attack angles, and the efficiency of those movements were not the result of ordinary training. They were techniques forged through life-and-death situations.

Arka Mahendra looked calmly at the crowd. “I already said it. Come together. I don't have much time.”

This time, no one thought he was joking.

“Damn it! Attack together!” someone shouted.

Seven or eight people immediately leaped into the arena from different directions. Punches and kicks came almost simultaneously, sealing off every avenue of escape.

Keira Adhistya unconsciously held her breath. No matter how strong someone was, numbers were still numbers. Yet what happened next completely exceeded her expectations.

Arka Mahendra's body moved without hesitation, like a machine operating with perfect precision. He weaved through the attacks, each step only as far as necessary, with no wasted movement. Every technique was simple, direct, and brutally efficient, a style born from battlefields rather than sporting arenas.

Bang!

One punch struck a neck, and someone immediately collapsed. A swift joint lock twisted an arm, causing another opponent to lose the ability to fight.

Bang!

A side kick slammed into someone's stomach, sending the body flying out of the arena.

CRASH!

“UGH!”

“ARGH!”

The sounds of impacts and groans filled the room. Within minutes, every attacker had fallen. None of them were able to stand again.

When it was over, Arka Mahendra was still standing where he had started. His breathing remained steady, and his clothes were not even wrinkled.

Silence enveloped the hall.

The remaining applicants stared at him with pale faces. The person standing before them was not merely a strong fighter, but someone accustomed to winning before the battle had truly begun.

Keira Adhistya looked at him without blinking. Her heart beat faster, not out of fear, but because of something she could not explain. The face that reminded her of the past now stood before her with a completely different kind of strength, creating a contrast that shook her own defenses.

Her assistant seemed to have forgotten how to close his mouth.

Arka Mahendra stepped down from the arena and stopped in front of Keira Adhistya. “Miss Adhistya,” he said calmly, “is this enough?”

Keira Adhistya took a deep breath and regained her composure. When she spoke again, her voice had returned to its firm tone.

“Good. I agree to your conditions. The money will be transferred immediately.”

The burden that had been pressing on Arka Mahendra's chest since last night finally eased a little. At the very least, his grandfather's operation could now proceed.

However, Keira Adhistya was not finished. “But I also have a condition.”

Her gaze was sharp and calculating. “That two hundred million is not a salary advance,” she said slowly. “It's the price for buying your time for two years.”

The room fell silent once more. “For the next two years, your time, abilities, and loyalty belong exclusively to me. You will protect me, carry out my assignments, and work for no one else without my permission. I will still pay your salary as usual.”

She paused and looked directly into Arka Mahendra's eyes. “I pay. You give yourself to me. That's the agreement.”

Her tone turned cold again, almost challenging. “You can refuse.”

Arka Mahendra fell silent. A soldier who had once stood on the front lines was now being asked to sell his freedom?

His hands clenched unconsciously. For a moment, he considered seeking help from old military connections, but his grandfather's voice echoed clearly in his mind. Do not become a burden to the country. Do not create more problems for the unit.

He had very few choices left.

He let out a long breath.

“Alright.”

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Comments (1)
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S A Krishnan
woah! he agreed to it.
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