26. - Boiling Point

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"We must blend into the choir
Sing as static with the whole
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul"

- "At the Bottom of Everything" by Bright Eyes -

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If you're confused about the opening scene of this chapter, look up "May 1998 Tragedy"; Samuel was born in late April of 1998 in Bogor. During that time, there were already clashes between students and police across several cities, resulting in the murder of four students that became the last straw sometime in early May. The public's frustration with the government turned into violence, fueled by the economic disparity and perceived corruption and nepotism in Suharto's administration. That being said, trigger warning below.

⚠️TW: violence and death, massacre, ethnic violence, racism, child abandonment, political unrest, arson

*****

The acrid scent of burning rubber and gasoline saturates the narrow streets of Bogor, intertwining with the pungent smoke that hangs thick in the air. Nearby, glass shatters as looters seize the chaos, their arms laden with stolen goods. A group of rioters has already apprehended the takin, dragging him away from his now-upturned Mercedes, where they pour oil over the car's sleek exterior.

"Lengserkan Suharto! Cina kembali ke Cina! (Down with Suharto! Chinese go back to China!)" The crowd's roar crescendos as they chant "reform" like a sacred mantra. The takin, trapped, reflects bitterly on the cruel irony of his situation: how someone so wealthy can find themselves so destitute in the blink of an eye.

A macaque, who had been standing beside the deer wielding a loudspeaker and a bloody parang, approaches the takin with a predatory gaze. The takin eyes the macaque as one would a hunter.

"Tolong, pak, s-saya cuman pingin ketemu anak, soalnya- (Please, sir, I-I just want to go home to my child because-)" His desperate plea is cut short by a brutal slap, a crude makeshift club fashioned from a table leg crashing against his chest. He collapses to the ground, his gaze fixed momentarily on the golden sky where a plane streaks by. Before he can react, a foot crushes down onto his chest, pinning him against the asphalt with such force that his ribs groan under the immense pressure.

"Gak usah bacot! Lo mo kabur kan ke negara laen? Ngaku aja dah! (Oh, shut up! We know you're planning to flee to another country! Just admit it!)" The macaque's accusation sparks a roar of approval from the mob, their eyes alight with the promise of bloodshed. On the takin's periphery, his Mercedes is now a raging inferno, its flames mirrored in the tired eyes of the takin. As the flames begin to rise, licking the evening sky, the crowd's chants of justice and revenge grow louder.

Desperately, he tries to rise and speak again."P-Pak, tolong, pak, saya cuman- (S-Sir, please, sir, I just-)" But his voice falters as another blow lands, this time to his head, splitting the skin. A warm trickle of blood flows down his muzzle.

He lies back on the ground, more crumpled than ever, slowly becoming aware of the other bodies strewn around him, some other victims of the mob's wrath. Among them is a middle-aged leopard, her lifeless body draped in a once-elegant dress, now soaked in blood. Nearby, a discarded handbag spills its contents onto the soot-stained pavement - a passport, jewelry, papers, and a family photograph, all sullied by the violence.

"Gara-gara lu, kita semua sengsara, kampang! Dasar cukong bangsat! (Because of you, we're all suffering, you son of a bitch! Damn Chinese oligarch!)" The macaque's club jabs menacingly at the takin, his growing hunger to eat the rich only deepening.

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