THE ERROR BOOK IS NOT TO BE READ

WARM WELCOME TO THE CITY

The inter-city bus between the provinces drove quickly split the road. Passing the winding hills with a little steep.

Tristan sat in the right corner. With a backpack held over both thighs. He looked at the vast land.

"Where are you going, Mas?" ask someone next to his seat.

"To Jakarta, Mas," Tristan replied as is.

"Haha. Cute cooking. Yes, obviously going to Jakarta. This bus is headed to Jakarta, Mas. I mean, where to go to Jakarta."

Tristan smiled faintly. "Yes, too, Mom. Oh. If Jakarta where I do not know, Mas. I'm just given this address to my friend." He showed me a paper where it was Bayu's address.

The man next to him saw the writing on the paper. "Oo then. Our address is not much different, Mom. I know where this is. Later Mas can be equally I take public transportation after this bus reaches the Jakarta terminal," he said.

"Ah seriously, Mas? thank you in advance" Tristan said very kindly.

****

More than 10 hours drive, the city bus arrives at Jakarta terminal. Hustle and bustle of Jakarta has begun to be seen from inside this terminal.

"Mas, Mum." Someone on the other side tried to wake Tristan who was asleep.

"Yes, Mum." Tristan rubbed his eyelids. "Where is this, Mas?" ask him to shut his mouth because of yawning drowsiness.

"Had arrived in Jakarta, Mas. Let's get ready. Let all of you be with me. Mas just after all, in Jakarta," said the person.

"Yes, Mas. Thank you," said Tristan by tidying up a little sweater. Swiping his face and sticking a backpack on his shoulder.

Then Tristan and the man went out of the city bus to a small urban public transport.

"Well, we're riding this angkot, ma'am," said the young man. And Tristan followed behind. Put his foot in a little blue car. With the number 121 on the windshield of the angkot.

They sit in long chairs. Face to face. At the end of the corner near the rear windshield of the car.

"Well, later. At the last stop of this angkot. Not far from there the address, Mas," said the young man who was with him.

"Oh, so did Mas. Just one ride in the air?" ask Tristan to make sure.

"Yes, Mas. The address is not far from the terminal. Just, yes if the footpath is also sore Mas, haaha."

Tristan pulled his cheek. He smiled thinly.

Once passengers in public transport are full. The car goes according to its route.

"This is how the city of Jakarta is. It's getting crowded and crowded. The population is already getting crowded," exclaimed the young man in the midst of the traffic jam.

From behind the windshield of the car, Tristan noticed the city's very irregular atmosphere. Many vehicles packed. Almost all road sidewalks are used as business stalls. Not a few two-wheeled vehicles that go against the current. Really claustrophobic. But this is the city of Jakarta. The city of people to hang its fate.

"Well, Mas. We've arrived."

"Thank you very much, Mas" Tristan said after being out of question.

"Together, Mas. Be careful in Jakarta. Jakarta is different from the village, Mas. May luck be on Mas's side" he said by accepting a hand from Tristan.

And then, Tristan continued his journey by walking down small houses.

"Thank God someone helped me. There are still good people as well" Tristan murmured as he walked with the paper in his right hand.

The road of youth number fourteen. Tristan read the writing on the paper.

His feet continued to step, passing through the passageways. Down the street with many new half-finished buildings to his right. Until he began to feel confused because the address was never found. Tristan is at a crossroads. In front of him, there was a large building that was still under construction. It looks like an apartment building. Because it looks like its foundation is multi-layered.

"Where am I?" he muttered by wiping his forehead which had started sweating. His sight spread throughout this place. "Try on that road. I'll ask the locals." Tristan headed to the left of his position. "Why is this so lonely. These buildings are all I see" he murmured.

From the position where he was walking, Tristan saw three adult men in black jackets. Was doing something to a middle-aged man near a black SUV. From appearance. The man was robbed.

"God! so sorry, that father. But, this is none of my business" said Tristan who momentarily stopped his steps and turned around.

"Nak Tristan, I have taught you what you have all. Don't use the martial arts you are good at. Be a devoted child to parents. And help each other. Make yourself useful to many people. Because there is no point in living if you only think about yourself." The gaze of the teacher that flashed through his mind, instantly knocked Tristan's conscience.

"Hey!" peekkik Tristan from a distance. The three men at the other end turned together towards Tristan. Including the middle-aged man who was in danger, also allowed his eyes with a face full of fear.

Tristan approached the men with a quick walk.

"Haha. Snot boy! What do you want?" yell at one of those men.

Tristan looked at the three people with flat faces.

"Mending lo go home. Sana nyusu same mother lo! don't get pretended to be a bad luck hero" exclaimed someone who was holding a sharp dagger to the middle-aged man.

"Take that man off!" exclaimed Tristan with a flat tone and a cold look.

"*******! lots of your bacots!" a large man with a bushy mustache and sideburns. He stabbed Tristan with a dagger. However, Tristan quickly dodged by sliding his body slightly to the right. A two-on-one fight ensued.

One on Tristan's right, the other on his left. They used daggers and fought Tristan who only used their bare hands.

The two men groaned in pain and got back up. They looked at each other after feeling that the enemy was not an easy opponent to take down.

"May you too!" exclaimed a big man who was on the right with a cynical laugh and his left hand held his face that was sick from Tristan's kick.

"YYYYYYYYY!" The two men simultaneously attacked Tristan from two sides. Tristan finds a series of attacks. However, he can avoid it. And gave a counterattack to the two who attacked him.

BRUAAK!!! BUKK!!!

One of the men managed to scratch the dagger and injure Tristan's arm. Blood is on the right side of Tristan's arm. But it doesn't scare him.

Tristan tied his scarred arm with a handkerchief in his pocket.

"Haha! ****** you!" screech someone who is pointing a sharp weapon at the middle-aged father. That saw the two comrades face Tristan.

Heavy sweat flooded Tristan's entire body. However, his heart did not tremble in the slightest.

"Heuhh ... Huh ... " Tristan grunts. He was ready to face his enemies.

"Horn!" said the thick mustachioed man.

Back, fights happen. They attacked together. But this time Tristan's patience seems to have run out. He brought out the martial technique he mastered. It's really very beautiful. The punch and kick combination that became the hallmark of the martial arts he learned, was able to make the two people land on the asphalt with injuries. This time they could no longer stand. Because the nose that bleed a lot and also pain in the body is painful, making the two people unable to get back up.

There was only one person near the middle-aged man. Tristan approached him. There was a worried face from the man who was holding a dagger right around the father's neck.

"Retreat! or I can do this man" exclaimed the man with a hand ready to line the dagger on the neck of the father whose face shriveled in fear.

Tristan raised both of his hands, indicating that he would not attack. But behind that, his brain thought. For how to overcome the big man.

"Let him go, I won't do anything to you" Tristan said, trying to negotiate with him.

Unexpectedly, the middle-aged father encouraged the man after seeing a gap that allowed him to do so.

Tristan quickly ran and did a twisting kick that made the man suckle on the sand piled up from the remains of an unfinished building.

The three robbers ran away in fear without bringing any results.

"Mother is okay?" tristan asked the father of the robbery victim.

He sighed. Wiping the sweat on his forehead and tidying up a bit of the collar. Then he replied, "thank you, son. I'm not okay. Good thing there is, kid-."

"Tristan, Sir. My name is Tristan" Tristan said.

"What about the wound, son?" ask the father to be concerned.

Tristan held onto the right arm which was already feeling a little pain. "Ah, it's okay, sir. Just scratched a little."

"Do I need to go to the doctor to get checked, son," said the father with a full face to worry.

"Ah—ah's. It's not necessary, sir. Thank you" said Tristan, refusing politely.

"Who are those people, sir?" continued.

"They're robbers, son. Indeed, on this road a little bit prone. Because this is a new road and also many buildings that have not been finished. Make the streets a little quiet," said the father.

"Oh yeah. My name is Aditya. I really want to say a big thank you to you, Son Tristan," he said, shaking hands with Tristan.

"Yes. Equally, Sir. I just happen to be in this place. Because I'm looking for–."

"God! address Bayu. The paper. Where's paper?" Tristan suddenly remembered that he was not holding his friend's address paper.

"Why, Son?" ask the father confused.

"So I held my friend's address paper, sir. I just arrived in Jakarta."

"Well .. Where is the paper?" Tristan searched around the area for the paper.

"You remember the address? On what road?" asked the middle-aged father who saw Tristan was confused.

Tristan tried to remember the writing on the paper. "Aduh—. Paths. Jalan—. Road lads!" he said after a little remembering.

"If the youth's path isn't far back, son. Let me take you," said the father offering a ride.

"I'm not a hassle, sir?"

"Ah, troublesome how. I owe you my life, son."

"Don't be like that, sir. I'm just a normal human being. That was lucky. Maybe, not necessarily tomorrow I can survive," Tristan said humbly.

"Let's Son." The black-clothed father invited Tristan into his luxurious car.

"Thank you, sir," Tristan said kindly after being in the car.