The sound jolted Randa out of his concentration. He quickly searched for the source of the strange noise and realized his phone was still on.
Curious, he glanced at the screen.
Bright, colorful visuals flickered across it, accompanied by cheerful background music.
Intrigued, he leaned closer.
It turned out the noise came from a pop-up ad for a game titled "Dragon King's Son-in-Law: Journey in Heavenly Prison."
Slowly, the game began to capture his attention. Its protagonist was a young man betrayed by both his friend and his fiancée, only to be thrown into prison.
The story began with the protagonist struggling to survive behind bars. At first, life was harsh, but eventually he discovered that the prison was filled with extraordinary people.
Bit by bit, he connected with other inmates, completing quests and gaining unique skills from them.
Though the story seemed cliché, Randa's foul mood made him want to give it a try.
He quickly downloaded the game and installed it without issue.
That night, Randa played with enthusiasm, losing himself in the game until late into the night.
...
The next morning, he began sending out the job applications he had carefully prepared the night before.
With his work experience, Randa felt confident he would land a position soon.
...
On Monday morning, he dressed neatly and headed to Muka Kuning, the industrial hub where his former company was also located.
But this time, he wasn't going to his old office. He had an interview at another company nearby—a place he already knew fairly well, thanks to its proximity to his former workplace.
Upon arriving, Randa parked his motorbike and informed the security guard about his appointment.
After verifying the details, the guard jotted down his name and let him in, pointing him toward the interview room.
Looking around, Randa noticed no one else was waiting. It seemed he was the only candidate that day.
Moments later, a neatly dressed woman appeared, greeting him with a polite smile.
"Are you Mr. Randa?" she asked.
Randa stood at once and replied respectfully, "Yes, ma'am. That's me."
She nodded. "Alright, sir. Please, come in. We'll begin the interview shortly."
Randa followed her inside.
The session began, and he answered each question with confidence and ease, like water flowing naturally. The interviewer nodded occasionally, maintaining a professional smile throughout.
Before long, the interview concluded. The woman said kindly, "Well, Mr. Randa, that wraps up our session. Please wait for the results regarding your acceptance or rejection. I do hope we can work well together if you're chosen."
Hearing this, a broad smile spread across Randa's face, reigniting his motivation.
"Thank you very much for your time, ma'am. If given the chance, I'll definitely do my best here."
Feeling calm and optimistic, Randa went home. From the interviewer's demeanor, he was almost certain he would be accepted.
...
Days passed, and Randa's optimism slowly turned into frustration.
The applications he sent rarely received responses. When they did, it was usually just an invitation for an interview—with no follow-up afterward.
During each interview, he had felt sure he would be hired, especially given how enthusiastic the interviewers had seemed.
But in reality, no confirmation ever came.
He began to wonder: had he been making mistakes all along?
Puzzled, Randa reread his application letters and replayed each interview in his mind. But no matter how many times he checked, he couldn't spot anything wrong.
Just as his frustration and sadness peaked, his phone rang. An unknown number flashed across the screen.
Hopeful, he picked it up immediately, thinking it might be an HR officer calling back.
"Hello, good morning. This is Randa speaking—how can I help you?"
"Hi, is this Randa? It's me, Herman—your old college mate!"
Randa's smile vanished. It wasn't HR. Still, he felt some relief hearing from an old friend.
"Oh, Herman! Yeah, I remember. It's been a while. What's up?"
"Well, after graduation, I landed a job as an HR officer, and thank God, things have gone well. But lately, I've heard some troubling rumors about you…"
A sense of dread grew inside Randa.
"What rumors?" he asked sharply.
"They're saying you were corrupt—that you caused major losses at your old company."
The words hit Randa like the sky collapsing. His mind went blank.
"Randa? Are you still there?" Herman called several times.
"Ah… yeah. Sorry. That news is just… shocking. Of course, it's not true," Randa croaked, his voice trembling.
"I know. I believe you. But HR people are cautious by nature. No one wants to take the risk. They've essentially blacklisted your name across companies—even at mine. I tried convincing my superiors you're a good person, but none of them dared to move forward."
Randa sat in silence. As painful as it was, it all made sense.
"That's why I called—to let you know the situation. I didn't want you wasting more time wondering why you keep getting rejected despite your solid record."
Weakly, Randa replied, "Thank you so much, Herman. If you hadn't told me, I'd still be clueless, wasting my time on pointless applications."
"Of course. That's what friends are for. I hope you can move past this shadow soon."
"Thanks, Herman."
Click!
The call ended, leaving Randa in despair.
He sat frozen, staring blankly, his mind filled with endless whys.
Just as he teetered on the edge of hopelessness, a sudden notification popped up on his phone.
Ding!
System Activated!
The sound snapped him out of his daze. He grabbed the phone quickly.
It was a reminder from the game he had downloaded earlier, inviting him to play with the promise of daily rewards and a rare box if he logged in thirty days straight.
Remembering his grief, Randa decided to vent his frustration through the game. He lay down on his bed and began playing.
...
Hours slipped by unnoticed.
Growl…
His stomach's protest jolted him awake. He glanced at the clock—it was already 2 p.m.
"What? Two o'clock? But it was just eight in the morning…" he muttered.
He sighed, realizing how deeply the game had absorbed him.
In it, the protagonist gained unique skills from fellow inmates. Imagining that, Randa couldn't help but daydream.
"Man, if only I could learn skills like that, I wouldn't be so frustrated about losing my job."
The thought drew a faint smile across his face.
Growl…
His stomach rumbled again.
Annoyed, Randa dragged himself to the kitchen, muttering under his breath, "Alright, alright! Can't you be patient for once?"
...
At three in the afternoon, Randa had just finished his meal. He didn't continue playing his game, because the moment he returned to reality, those negative emotions came rushing back. He wasn't in the mood to do anything—not even to play.
Tired of sitting idly in his room, Randa decided to go for a ride.
For centuries, solitude and contemplation have been seen as ways to shield oneself from the pain of misfortune. As the old saying goes: time heals everything.
Restless, Randa hopped on his motorcycle and rode off aimlessly. The roads weren't crowded, giving him room to relax a little and take in the passing scenery.
He wasn't sure how long he had been riding. If nothing happened, he might have kept circling endlessly. Then, raindrops began striking his helmet with sharp, echoing thuds.
Looking up, he saw a massive, dark cloud looming overhead. For a moment, he wondered if he should pull over—or maybe even ride through the rain, letting it wash away his negative emotions like in the movies. But he quickly dismissed the thought. That was childish. He needed to find shelter.
Before he reached a bus stop, the downpour began. Luckily, he wasn't far and managed to avoid getting completely soaked. Sitting under the shelter, he tried at first to enjoy the sound of the rain. But soon enough, boredom crept in, and he pulled out his phone.
He lost himself in his game again—until a deafening crack of thunder startled him.
Boom!
Alarmed, Randa immediately put the phone away. He remembered hearing stories of people being struck by lightning while using their phones in the rain. Better safe than sorry.
As he sat there, restless and waiting for the rain to pass, his eyes caught sight of a little girl happily pedaling a small bicycle. Randa felt uneasy. She was alone, with no adult in sight. He kept watching closely, ready to intervene if necessary. Still, since she stayed away from the road, he felt somewhat reassured.
Then, without warning, the girl toppled into a hole!
Randa's heart skipped a beat. He dashed toward her. The child panicked, flailing toward a drainage channel. Randa sprinted faster, but she had already fallen and was being swept away by the current.
Without hesitation, Randa leapt into the narrow canal, swimming after her. Panic surged within him as the girl was pulled closer to the dark mouth of a tunnel. If she slipped inside, saving her would be nearly impossible.
By sheer luck, her clothes snagged on a branch, stopping her for a brief moment. Renewed hope surged through Randa as he reached out. But just before his hand touched her, the branch snapped. She was carried toward the tunnel again.
In that critical instant, Randa lunged forward and grabbed her. He pulled her tight against his chest, her small body drenched and trembling with sobs, and with all his strength he carried her back to safety.
As he tried to climb out of the canal, something caught on his sandal. He paused and pulled it free—a gleaming red stone. It looked elegant, perhaps even precious. But there was no time to dwell on it. He shoved it into his pocket and hurried back to the bus stop with the girl in his arms.
Moments later, a young woman came running, panic etched across her face. She had seen everything from a distance.
"Naira! Is that you? Are you alright?" she cried, clutching her daughter tightly.
The girl broke down, sobbing into her mother's embrace. The woman apologized over and over, promising never to leave her alone again.
Randa gave them space. Once they had calmed down, the mother approached him with tearful gratitude, even trying to hand him money. But Randa refused.
"No need for that," he said. "What matters now is that you take her home quickly. Get her warm and dry before she catches a cold."
The woman blinked, realizing he was right. She asked for Randa's phone number, then hurried away with her daughter.
Randa stood there alone, drenched, with only a bitter smile left on his face.
He eventually returned home, where his fat black-and-white cat greeted him with indifference—clearly disappointed that he hadn't brought food. Randa just shook his head and went to shower.
Emptying his pockets, he rediscovered the red stone. It was beautiful, mysterious even. Curiosity stirred within him, but the chill in his bones made him set it aside for later.
Randa felt a little unsure of what to do. Then, he suddenly remembered the game on his phone and started playing. Just as he was getting into it, a notification popped up—his battery was almost dead. Seeing this, Randa quickly grabbed his charging cable.
The moment he plugged it in, a deafening rumble shook the air. Rumble! At the same time, a surge of electricity, from who knows where, shot straight through his body. For a few seconds, he was frozen, unable to move. Then, little by little, he came back to his senses. A wave of fear washed over him—was he about to die from being electrocuted?
Fortunately, the surge disappeared just moments later. Still shaken, Randa quickly checked himself. Strangely, he didn't feel any pain or notice anything unusual. With a heavy sigh of relief, he muttered,
"Phew… thank goodness."
He glanced at his phone and the charging cable, trying to see if something was wrong, but nothing seemed out of place. Could it be that the phone was still wet, and that's why I got shocked? he wondered. Grabbing a cloth, he carefully wiped both the phone and the cable clean. After that, he plugged the cable back in, extra cautious this time and ready to yank it out at the first sign of trouble.
Click!
His fears turned out to be unfounded. The phone connected perfectly, confirmed by the charging notification on the screen. Relieved, Randa nodded to himself. He set the phone aside, deciding it was better not to use it while charging.
To pass the time, he turned to his laptop. He browsed a few sites—sometimes job listings, sometimes just random videos. But soon enough, boredom crept in again. His thoughts drifted back to the game on his phone, tempting him to play.
After a moment of hesitation, Randa finally picked it up. His face lit up, filled with excitement and anticipation for some fun gameplay. But the moment he opened the game, his expression froze in confusion. The game had reset, starting over as if all his previous save data had been erased.
Frustration hit him instantly. Even so, he tried playing from the beginning. But the irritation lingered, making it impossible to enjoy. Before long, he gave up and quit the game altogether.
"Damn it! Why does everything keep going wrong lately?" he snapped, tossing his phone aside.
Exhausted and restless, he finally gave in to sleep. As he drifted off, a faint crimson glow flickered from his pocket—before fading into silence.
...
"Aghhhhh!"
On the bed, Randa let out a terrified scream in his sleep before jolting awake, eyes wide and his body drenched in sweat.
Beside him, a snow-leopard-patterned cat stared at him with a worried expression.
Realizing he was back in his own bedroom, Randa exhaled sharply. Slowly, the tension on his face began to fade.
Seeing its owner was safe, the snow-leopard-patterned cat walked over and rubbed against him.
A faint smile appeared on Randa's lips, and his heart settled. Even though the cat usually acted cold and indifferent, moments like this reminded him it could still be dependable.
After calming down a little, Randa's thoughts drifted back to what he had just experienced.
"Ugh, I must be really depressed if I'm dreaming about that game..." he muttered bitterly.
Just moments ago, he had dreamed of becoming the protagonist of Dragon King's Son-in-Law: Journey in Heavenly Prison, a game he had once played.
If the dream had let him play as the protagonist with cool abilities, he might have been happy. But instead, he relived the darkest part of the story—the protagonist's tragic and miserable beginning.
Randa's mood, already gloomy these past days, sank even further.
What man wouldn't feel humiliated being trampled on as a worthless son-in-law, only to be thrown into prison? It was disgusting.
Randa decided he needed to stay away from that game if he wanted to avoid more disturbing dreams.
He lay back for a moment to steady himself, then finally got up and headed for the bathroom.
On the way, he emptied his pockets. Everything seemed normal—until he found something strange: a handful of red sand.
"Where the hell did this come from?" he thought. After all, he hadn't left the house the night before.
As he tried to recall, he suspected it came from the red stone he had once picked up from a ditch.
"Ah... did that stone break apart? Guess it really was cheap junk," he muttered.
Not wanting to dwell on it, he tossed the sand into the trash and went into the bathroom.
After a quick shower, he booted up his laptop to continue his job search.
...
Bang!
Later that afternoon, Randa came home scowling. He slammed the door so hard it echoed through the small house.
He threw his belongings onto the bed, venting his frustration.
"Damn it! Looks like Herman was right... I really have been blacklisted by every company in Batam. If this keeps up, I'll probably never get a job..." he muttered helplessly.
Just then, a notification popped up. Filled with hope, he thought it might be a job offer. But when he checked, it was nothing more than an invitation from a short-video app asking him to create content.
The app seemed desperate to expand its user base, offering money to anyone whose videos could gain attention.
Randa dismissed it without hesitation. He had no talent for making entertaining videos. With that, he sank back into his endless job hunt.
...
"Arghhhhh!"
A scream rang out inside the cramped boarding room. It went on long enough for someone to start pounding on his door.
"Randa! Randa! What on earth are you doing, yelling this early in the morning?!"
Startled, Randa shot up, realizing he was still in his room. Dazed, he shuffled over and opened the door.
Standing there was his landlady, a slightly plump middle-aged woman, scowling.
"Randa, what's wrong with you? Don't disturb the other tenants!"
"Ah, sorry, ma'am... I just had a nightmare."
She huffed. "Fine, but don't let it happen again. Or else!"
Randa quickly nodded. As she turned to leave, he faintly heard her mutter:
"A grown man still having nightmares..."
But he didn't care. Closing the door, he sat back down on the bed.
It was the same nightmare again—him as the pitiful son-in-law thrown into prison. The memory was so unbearable that he immediately deleted the game from his phone, convinced it was the cause.
After that, he showered and got ready for breakfast.
...
By midday, boredom gnawed at him. With nothing else to do, he decided to go for a walk. From a distance, he spotted a row of exhibition booths.
As he drew closer, he realized it was an agricultural fair. Instead of losing interest, Randa grew curious. After all, he was an agriculture graduate, even if his previous jobs had nothing to do with his field.
Deep down, he still dreamed of owning his own farm or ranch someday.
Excited, he wandered through the exhibition. The displays impressed him, and without thinking, he began recording moments to remember later.
After a while, satisfied with what he had seen, he returned home in a calmer mood.
But when he opened his laptop again, his hopes were crushed once more. No job offers—just another email from that same short-video app.
With a sigh, he closed the email and distracted himself by scrolling through his phone's gallery. The cheerful farming videos he had saved lightened his mood a little.
Then, a new notification popped up on his laptop. Heart racing, he rushed to check—only to find yet another message from the app.
Frustrated, he almost blocked the sender. But then, a thought crossed his mind.
"If I think about it... I probably won't land a job anytime soon. Maybe I should just give this short-video thing a try? There's no harm in it. If it works, I get paid. If not, there's no penalty..."
After mulling it over, he made up his mind.
He already had footage from the agricultural fair. It took him a while to edit, mostly because he wasn't used to it and didn't know what to focus on.
Still, he eventually finished a one-minute video. Watching it brought a smile to his face. Without hesitation, he uploaded it.
Pleased with his work, Randa replayed the video over and over, savoring the satisfaction of creating something of his own.
...
The next morning, Randa woke up once again from the same nightmare. But this time, he didn't scream hysterically like he had the day before.
Even so, he still felt annoyed and frustrated, as the nightmare had been haunting him for several days in a row. At one point, he even wondered if he should visit a shaman to solve the problem. But after thinking it over, he decided it wasn't necessary and chose to just ignore it.
After tidying up, Randa quickly grabbed his phone to check the status of the video he had uploaded the night before. To his disappointment, it hadn't attracted any attention at all—only forty-eight views.
Seeing that, Randa lost interest and tossed his phone aside. He then opened his laptop to check his inbox, only to find it just as empty as before.
While drowning in boredom, his phone suddenly rang. He hurried to pick it up—turns out it was a friend calling him over.
"What for?" Randa asked curiously.
"Just come. You'll see," his friend replied.
Without protest, Randa got ready. Once everything was set, he headed out.
When he arrived at Rizky's house, he was surprised to see several chickens lying weakly in the front yard.
"Rizky, what happened to your chickens?" Randa asked, shocked.
Rizky quickly came over.
"I honestly have no idea. They suddenly went weak, their eyes swollen and filled with mucus. Then I remembered you studied agriculture, so I thought I'd ask you!"
Randa nodded and inspected the chickens. After a while, he had a hunch.
"Judging from the symptoms, it looks like your chickens have Coryza."
Rizky frowned.
"Is that dangerous? Can it even be treated?"
"No, it's just a bacterial disease. A single vaccine shot or a dose of antibiotics should fix it," Randa explained.
Rizky let out a sigh of relief.
"Hahaha, thank God! I'm glad I called you over. I thought it was something serious, but it's just a bacterial infection. Honestly, when I first heard the name Coryza, it sounded strange and dangerous."
Randa nodded, understanding his friend's concern. Still, he couldn't help but wonder why Rizky suddenly had so many chickens. It wasn't New Year yet, and Eid was still a year away.
"By the way, Rizky… why did you suddenly decide to raise so many chickens?"
Rizky gave a bitter smile. That alone was enough for Randa to figure out the reason.
It turned out Rizky's wife had been influenced by short videos on the internet about "organic eggs" and raising chickens with maggots as feed. The maggots would eat food scraps, then the chickens would eat the maggots. Cheaper, eco-friendly, and profitable—or so the videos claimed. Tempted, his young, quick-witted wife bought ten hens, maggots, and some chicken coops.
Hearing the story, Randa smirked.
"So, where is your wife now? Why isn't she helping deal with the mess she started?" he teased.
"Of course she ran off. She was scared the chickens were sick, so she grabbed our kid and went to her parents' place, leaving me to handle this alone. Luckily, it's not that serious," Rizky said, annoyed.
They both chuckled and went back to chatting. Not long after, a few people in white uniforms arrived—livestock extension officers. They asked about the situation, then proceeded to inject the chickens and disinfect the coops.
Randa found it interesting and recorded a video, while Rizky busied himself preparing snacks and drinks for the workers.
It didn't take long before the ten hens were vaccinated and their coops disinfected. The chickens even looked healthier. Rizky sighed in relief once again, then treated Randa to a meal out of gratitude. They ate heartily together before parting ways.
Back home, Randa quickly took a shower, worried that bacteria from the chickens might still be clinging to him. Afterward, he rewatched the video he had recorded earlier, found it interesting, edited it a little, and uploaded it to a short video platform.
As he lay down, Randa thought again about Rizky's wife—how easily she had been swayed by short clips on the internet. It struck him: short videos could influence people so much that they'd even start backyard farming because of them. If used properly, short videos could be a powerful tool.
"Like it or not, humans can't fight against technology anymore. We have to live alongside it—or better yet, use it to our advantage," Randa thought.
From that moment, he resolved to take short videos more seriously and learn how to make the most of them.
...
"Arghhhh!"
A hysterical scream echoed through the cramped room, casting an eerie atmosphere over the morning. Randa, the one who had screamed, was utterly confused.
But this time, it wasn't because of a nightmare.
Floating in front of him was a semi-transparent game window, suspended in the air.
Randa gaped. He rubbed his eyes hard, even pinched himself until it hurt, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. But the sharp sting proved otherwise—it was all real.
Right before him was a game interface. Even more shocking, it was a game he knew all too well.
The very game he had just deleted from his phone: "Dragon King's Son-in-Law: Journey in Heavenly Prison."
"H-how… how is this possible?" Randa muttered, his face full of bewilderment.