Chapter 16

As he enters his house, Ren lights an incense and says his prayers to a statue that is inside an enclosed altar after the gate. Surrounding the statue are small totems of varying looks.

The house is not something he rents for a hideout: it is from the fruit of his works – both the legal and illegal ones. Ren is paid a certain amount of money for every mission he completes, and he hasn't failed one yet. Just like now, with his kill of Dr. Sebastian Yankhun, he got a hefty ten million Baht and another hundred grand as a bonus – something he couldn't earn in an entire year by just being a combined full-time driving instructor and a part-time driving test proctor. Everything that he earns from Mal, Ren puts it as funding for this house, which has been already completed and furnished. The house has also been paid in full.

Ren has just finished his dinner, which he ate in a struggle because he has sent another soul under. One can surmise that he is still human, and somewhere underneath, there is still good in him that exists. He sits down in the living room and turns on his TV. He scrolls through the channels, passing those movies and leisure shows and stops at the first news channel he comes across with.

“To wrap up this episode, here are today's top news…”

A gorgeous lady newscaster is talking as Ren opens a pocket-sized pack of honey and mixes it into his tea.

“Four convicts charged with human trafficking have been sentenced to the death penalty. Execution date set one week from now...”

The sound of the teaspoon hitting the teacup clearly reverberates throughout the room, which the sound of the telly cannot overpower.

“The Prime Minister is set to nominate a new Minister for Transportation and Minister for Agriculture tomorrow.”

“A fire broke out from Pharm Botanical Research Institute. No injuries were reported yet. Initial reports indicate that a power surge caused the fire. More on this story as it develops.”

Ren puts his teaspoon on the saucer and holds the handle of his cup with his forefinger and thumb. "Strawberry-infused tea with honey is the best," said he after taking a sip.

“A vehicular accident at the Land Bridge killed two scientists from Pharm Institute. The victims were identified as Doctor Sebastian Yankhun – the head of the institute – and Doctor Exeter Helman – a senior scientist. Investigations are underway to determine the cause of the accident.”

He stops drinking his tea after hearing the victims of the accident, and his senses nearly leave him. Weakened, he loses his grip on his cup, causing it to fall. It hits the saucer in his hand, and, together, crash to the floor, shattering them to pieces. The tea splashes on the pavement, and from the pool of it emanates the sweet scent of the same fruit it is imbued with.

The day he has feared has finally come: the very day when someone else apart from his target will be killed in his mission. As he sees the pictures of Seb and Exeter on the screen, he tries to gather his thoughts to formulate on what to do next.

He remains in the chair – glued, unmoving, yet thinking – as the news program ends. Then, something clicks, as if someone lights a fuse. As this fuse crawls its way to the end, it shows everything he needs to do next.

He goes to his study room that is on the same floor without cleaning the mess he made.

“Ma, what are you doing?” asked Ren. A memory from when he was a teen popped in his head.

“I'm writing a letter to my master and mistress.”

“That new family you will be working with?”

“Yes, Ren. I'm telling them that I can't make it this week. I have to fix all the documents after your father's death for the claims.”

“We have a computer, Ma,” said Ren, pointing to a set with a foot-and-a-half-high system unit, and a screen that is as big as an old television with a dial. “Your letter will look neater if printed,” he continued.

“Correct, but letters written by hand are still better. They make it easy for your reader to know who wrote it. Aside from that, the effort that goes with it are better appreciated.”

Ren was silent, knowing that his mother has a good point.

“So, the next time you will write a letter, especially to someone special, write it by hand.”

They had that short talk years ago, yet the voice of his mother sounds in his head as if she is there beside him.

As he writes, Ren’s emotions are starting to get the better of him, and tears trickle from his eyes as he composes a written material for one person. After a while, along with his tears synch the sobs as he tries to explain his side and asks for forgiveness.

“Now once you're done, take the bottom side of the paper and fold it a third of the way up. Then, fold the top side, overlapping the first you made,” said his mother in his head. After which, she showed him what the outcome looked like.

“With the top fold being opened first, your reader can already read the salutation and the beginning part of the body,” said she as she partially unfolded the top.

“Then, when the reader gets to the line where the second fold is, he can simply open it out fully and continue reading.”

After Ren finishes writing, he folds his letter, being guided by the instructions his mother gave him. He did not put it in an envelope. Instead, he leaves it folded atop the table. From the drawer of that same table, he takes out a voice recorder and starts taping himself. Afterwards, he puts it in his pocket.

He proceeds next to the second floor of his house and goes into the first master's bedroom – his room – at the end of the hall. Inside, he takes out a necklace with a weird looking talisman hooked in it from a cabinet. The necklace is metal, but the talisman is polished wood and carefully engraved to a figure not commonly found in most jewelry stores. After that, he goes to a small Komainu statue at the corner of his room. He lifts the top part where the mythological dog sits to reveal a hollow base. From it, he pulls out multiple cardboards. Printed on one side of each is a symbol similar to the talisman on his necklace. The other side has a multi-line text written in it. He walks back to his bed, which has drawers on the side. From one, he gets a pair of scissors and a roll of adhesive. From the one next to it, which is bigger, he pulls out a large, black briefcase. It is nearly the same as those used in movie flicks and which contains a built-in computer for launching ballistic missiles. He puts the voice recorder inside the briefcase.

Before he leaves the room, he attaches one of the cardboards on his room’s window and door using a cut of the adhesive. He does the same to the next three rooms. Before going back down to the ground floor, he books a Grab car.

At the ground floor, he attaches cardboards as well to his study room. He gets out of the house bringing with him the heavy briefcase. He puts the case aside and starts to tape more of the cardboard at the door, and the side of the house. He also tapes some to the gate and to the wall enclosing the entire house, spacing them evenly.

“That should be enough,” he said to himself while surveying the vicinity of his house for the last time. He, then, goes to the roofed car port to look at an elegant seven-seater SUV parked in it.

“This is all for you, Mama.”

He closes his eyes to meditate, ensuring that the next actions he will take are in order and ready to be done. “Give me strength,” said he afterwards. He, then, hears a horn from outside his house: the grab car he booked a while ago has arrived. He goes to the driver to hand him an important item.

“Drive carefully. This must reach its destination tonight,” said Ren to the driver. He gives him the briefcase afterwards.

“Krap P'. I will take care of your case,” answered the driver. Ren pays him and then drives off.

He goes back inside to get his motorcycle, then walks back out again. He locks the gate and sends an SMS to someone, “I'm sending you something important - a thing that's a matter of life and death. You know what to do with it. 0711. Take care, my friend.”

“It's all done now,” he said. He takes a deep breath after, and then, drives off and into the freeway.

“I love you, Ma. May you forgive me for what I've done...and what I am about to do,” said he after seeing a truck in front of him. Then, he throttles so much that his speed registers past 100 at the gauge in a matter of seconds. As he homes in at the back of the truck, he closes his eyes just to relax because in a few moments, his new mission will start – a personal one without any command or order behind it.