The Unforgettable Story
Section 7

They're on the middle side of the road. Suddenly a motorcycle drove out of the small road from the left. Because the motorbike did not reduce speed or the driver was less attentive to seeing the highway traffic he entered, the motorcycle hit the front left door of the car hard. They fell on the left side of the car. The woman sitting on the bonbar was not wearing a helmet, fortunately her head was not bumped into the asphalt. Markus stopped the car, worried he would hurt them if he continued driving.

“Don't come out, Sir. Let me handle.” said Markus while removing his seat belt. Without waiting for her employer's response, she got out of the car.

From his seat, Miles could hear the motorcyclist blaming his driver. The woman who was with him shouted at the man without giving Mark a chance to speak. Seeing that the situation was not on his driver's side, he got out of the car. The attention of the three men was drawn to him.

Miles looked at the front door of his car. The damage is quite severe, the cost is definitely not cheap. But it can be handled by insurance. The man's motorcycle was of less luck. Because of his own actions, the man will reach into his wallet deeply to repair the vehicle. Hopefully the bike is insured.

“Ooo, there's bule apparently. It's worth it on the road. Feeling great, huh, looking to have a fancy car? Feel like you have this road? Go back to your country! No one like you in this country!” shouted the man violently. Miles just looked at him. “What's just quiet? Do not understand Indonesian? It's stupid to come here not to learn his native language.”

“It looks like he's a dumb bule, baby. Ask the driver to translate.” said the woman with him amusedly. The two of them were fine, Miles did not notice any injuries or abrasions on their bodies.

Miles smiled at their behavior. Greatable. The guilty one whose voice is loudest and whose attitude is most presumptuous. He looked towards Mark. The man's face paled. Well, he knows what's going to happen. Miles looked back at the motorcyclist and the woman. If they also knew what the driver knew, they would have long since gone before him.

“Heh, tell your idiot boss, pay the damages! My motorcycle repair must be over five million. Don't try to run. I have a cop friend. Can I report this car number plate.”

“Be careful. If I were you,” said Markus.

“Sorry,” Cut Miles in English. “You said you had a cop friend? Call him here. I want to hear what he said as soon as I see the position of your bike with my car.”

“She can speak Indonesian, dear.” said the woman was amused.

“You wouldn't like it if he interfered in our affairs. So, just give the money to replace the loss. Seven million! Fast!”

“You see that pole? At its peak there is a surveillance camera belonging to the traffic police.” The two men turned their heads in the direction Miles was looking. Their faces paled so they understood his meaning. “Let's ask your friend, who should pay seven million.”

Upset and embarrassed, the man pointed his fist at Miles's face. Ready for the attack, Miles rewinds his body and catches the man's wrist. After twisting the man's hand to his back, he pushed his body into the car with his free hand. The man's chest hit Miles' car window hard.

Miles let go of the man. The woman who was with him immediately approached him and examined his body. He glared at Miles but did not try to retaliate. The traffic near them was already crowded as they blocked the flow of traffic. The sound of the horn began to deafen telling them to move immediately.

“Or what? Threatened me? The damage to your car is nothing compared to the loss experienced by my motorcycle.”

“Or your vehicle ownership letter I hold forever.” Miles showed him the plastic-wrapped paper he was holding and threw the man's wallet back at him.

“You can't,” squeal the man panicked.

Miles ignored him and got into the car. Mark followed what his master did. He drove the car, leaving the man and woman with no regard for their protests. Markus glanced at his employer through the front rearview mirror. Miles simply smiled meaningfully as he continued to examine the files on his lap.

He was almost too late to arrive at the town hall for a meeting with the governor. The friendly man greeted her in the meeting room. The flash of the camera lights makes Miles uncomfortable. He tried hard to keep smiling and answer the reporters' questions addressed to him. In his heart he wished that fame was only for that one day only.

All the businessmen who were inside the room had long since known him, so he could act relaxed. There are rivals, there are also peers. Whatever their status, they remain friendly outside of work. He shook their hands one by one and sat down in one of the empty seats. In front of him was a cup of black coffee. She smiles. His eyes then focused on the snacks that were in front of him. A typical snack cake market, the type of food he likes.

The meeting was full of family. They talk like they would with their own friends. There was no distance or hesitation even if they were in one room with the number one person in the capital. There are a lot of camera reporters outside. But in the room there are only a few video cameras so it does not interfere with the meeting.

Miles returned to the office only to put the files he had learned and signed onto the table. Kemala will take care of everything tomorrow morning. Markus escorted her to a gym not far from his office. He thanked her as her boss gave her the money for her dinner.

Miles changed into the room he had been provided with and kept his personal belongings in a locker. Entering the hall, there were already many people wearing equipment around the place. Some women looked at him as he passed by. It is not uncommon for some men to do the same.

His body is not as muscular as Hollywood action film actors, only athletic so he does not look big and scary but also does not look weak. The body shape it gets because of regular exercise.

Accustomed to the way those around him see him whenever he wears clothes that show his body shape, Miles ignores them. Only when someone calls his name will he stop and talk for a while. That rarely happens either. He deliberately chose a fitness spot where not many people he knew would cross paths with him.