The Love Of Bad Boy

Chapter 5 Finding Friends

"Where do you want to live, son? the earth of God is vast, and you will have trouble finding you later. We talk well with papa, yes," said Nuril's mother, looking at her son's face with a soft look. The wrinkled hand stroked Zen's soft arm, hoping that this caress would make him crumble.

Ahmed's youngest son, looking at his mother's face. A lot of guilt filled the heart space makes Zen increasingly claustrophobic in regretful trays. However, the words of the father who challenged in the past, again triggered the young blood to boil. He will stay on the initial decision. Try to be independent until firmly tread the earth with both feet alone.

"Just pray Zen, Ma. I thank you, thank you for all your help and love for me. Zen will not forget," Zen replied. She kissed her mother's forehead and held her sepuh body for a long time as she thrust out an envelope, warmly feeling the heartfelt affection of the parents.

Nuril can no longer prevent, tears were shed without permission to see the departure of the youngest son. He lost one soul due to the stubbornness of both. The middle-aged woman stepped foot into the car that was going to take her home.

"Yes Robb, take care of my son. Keep away from people who want to plunge it again. Surely you are the best guard of trust" Nuril murmured as he wiped the remaining clear grain from the net end, into the luxury car.

The temporary separation experienced by Ahmed Zen's family left many wounds in each of its inhabitants' hearts. Nuril only hopes that the youngest son's steps remain on the straight path even though God has outlined the traces of the fate of every creature.

After establishing himself, armed with the last money given by the mother, Zen sought rent in a crowded and slightly slum area. The goal is one, so that what he will do later is disguised.

Days become weeks and months. Zen still has trouble getting a job. Being a pelvic worker in the market he was forced to do just to find additional nutrients to boost the stomach.

The thugs chatter when he comes home in the afternoon, tickle his conscience again. He remembered Billy. The man is likely to be released from prison. Zen intends to visit the field tomorrow.

By noon, Omar Zen had retraced the court of Umapi, the former university inmate where he graduated a few months ago. Zen enters the chamber and asks Billy to meet with the field officer.

Soon, the two met. They were taunted and lightly hit before the guards reprimanded them. Conversations full of secret codes were launched to disguise the mission.

Both agreed to rebuild the glory days but this time using more sophisticated resources. Billy asks Zen to prepare something.

"OKAY. I'll get ready. Visit this place if you're free later," asked Zen, handing over an address in a piece of paper.

Billy skimmed, he memorized the area. A sneer mocking was printed clearly on the handsome face of this online gambling prisoner.

"Not wrong? the decline of dong! didn't get caught by Panu and his relatives, lo?" billy taunted, he got up because the bad timing was over.

"I'm important to be free, not kek lo, ndekem inside," kekeh Zen did not want to lose pamor, even though the situation was just as sad.

Zen stepped out of the washcloth with the contents of the brain constantly spinning. How to get so much capital today. When traveling to the market using the services of a motorcycle taxi driver. The chatter of ojol complaining his friend inspired Zen. He was curious about the conversation of Om Gogon and Jum in the field, he smiled cunningly behind the back of the motorbike driver.

Omar Zen, making his own T letter key, armed with a little knowledge that can be in the field, Zen managed to create a tool that does not damage the significant keyhole when going to prick the motor.

Trial action he will practice when the conditions are quiet. Zen targets shops without parking and not much traffic. The eyes of the eagle are observant to see the absence of cctv in the ceiling of the building. By the Maghrib, potential victims had been stalked by him.

Zen begins to launch an action, the heartbeat thumping as it approaches the target object. He pretended to tie his shoelaces while observing the sharing of motorcycle discs lined up. Nothing was in the lock, he thought.

Soon, a white motor matic with the logo Yemehe, became an allure for Zen because when he pretended to leave, he saw the woman who had just entered the salon did not lock the handlebar.

It only took ten seconds, Zen managed to prank the woman's vehicle, because of his carelessness. A carefree laugh broke the space of the evening and the first action was successful.

"Sab-leng, but what? had to!" murmured Zen, feeling that what he was doing was starting to cross the line.

Now, Zen takes his motorcycle to a dark workshop. Paste all components and sell them separately to disguise the action.

The first step has been completed, he needs a friend to continue the action, because the business this time requires large funds. Omar Zen needs an agile person to drive a vehicle if they are caught later. Zen would recruit members from street children or even youths like him who used to do wild tracks.

At midnight, Zen will be a wild racing spectator in one of the abandoned GOR buildings.

Just now that long leg had stopped and observed the situation. Long whistles of police and satpol PP sounded. Zen who was not ready, the confusion ran without direction just join the mob.

"Follow me!" exclaim a biker, pull a Zen jacket until he almost toppled over.

"Well!" sahut Zen, wince. Between panic and confusion.

"Napa's hunt!!!!!" his jolt again, asked Zen to immediately go up.

Ahmed's youngest son, didn't miss the golden opportunity. He rode a 250cc Yinja motorcycle and shortly sped off the scene to trigger an adrenaline rush.

There was no conversation between the two, until the man dropped Zen off at a pedestrian.

"Thansk, Buddy!" zen said, patting the foreign youth's arm. "I'm Zen, just saw you were cool there," he added.

The young man only smirked behind the fullface helmet. Zen considered, he was not from the ordinary if he looked at the costume and the motorbike he was wearing. Maybe someone like him.

"Gue Aldrich's. What's the snow there? you're the new kid, right?" guess Al on Zen, still sitting on the bike and crossing.

"Ehm, want to see and dance that can make partners fight for life. Nantang angel of death, lah," kekeh Zen, trigger curiosity.

"You mean? I know, you're not a kisser, where there's a ginian jacket. Mention clearly the purpose of lo," urged Al later.

Zen explained a glimpse of his plan to Al, and he got the answer he wanted.

"Gue's coming!" said handsome young man. Hands and tos as a covenant bond they do.

"See you, Tomorrow!" zen said, after the two exchanged phone numbers.

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