×Chaos Often Occurs×
Screech!
Thud!
Staylie had searched nearly every corner of the VIP room belonging to "Ujang Mandadang." From the nightstand drawers to the wardrobe, even the bathroom cabinet… and yet she still couldn’t find a single clue to reveal the man’s true identity.
Who really was "Ujang Mandadang," huh?!
Staylie had even rummaged through his large bags and suitcases—but still, nothing. No fake IDs, no hidden documents. Nothing.
Was she jumping to conclusions? No. In fact, Staylie was convinced he was the one hiding his identity carefully.
So how could she prove it?
Aha!
She snapped her fingers as a cartoonish lightbulb appeared above her head—her brain finally delivering the perfect idea for uncovering the truth. A plan. A tactic. Something that could finally expose the real person behind the alias "Ujang Mandadang."
“Test, one, two, three. Are you in position, Pak Asep?”
Staylie was in full undercover mode now, working with one of the hotel’s security guards through a walkie-talkie.
“Yes, Miss Staylie. I’m in position.” The radio crackled a bit, but Pak Asep tried to make sure his message came through clearly.
“Begin your mission as a secret agent.” Staylie gave the command from her hiding spot behind one of the massive pillars at the back of the Atma Start Hotel.
“Copy that.” Pak Asep, now by the wall near the hotel pavilion, crept forward like an FBI agent.
His steps grew quieter as he approached the target.
They were tailing one person. Guess who?
Yep. The VIP guest himself.
Elsewhere—Karel could feel something off. Ever since he left his hotel room, it felt like someone was secretly following him.
“Sir, all clear?” Staylie asked through her walkie, keeping her distance.
“All clear.” Pak Asep replied quickly.
“Proceed.” Staylie gave the go-ahead.
“Yes, Miss.” Pak Asep moved stealthily, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
Meanwhile, Karel—on a call with an important client from his father’s company—suddenly stopped walking on a garden path behind the hotel. He paused, sensing something.
He turned around a full 180°.
"Nothing there. Weird..." he muttered, then raised his phone back to his ear.
“Miss…”
Huff, huff… Pak Asep was breathing heavily, clearly startled.
“Hello? Pak Asep, what happened?” Staylie asked in concern.
“It’s just—he stopped walking all of a sudden. I had to dive for cover fast.” He peered around nervously, still focused on completing his secret agent mission.
“Okay, calm down, take it easy. Don’t panic.” Staylie continued observing the guest from a distance.
But the moment she turned her body to the right—
Wham!
She collided with someone. Startled, Staylie looked up.
Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped.
Dun dun dun duuuun!
Staylie quickly tried to turn away again—but too late.
One word: You’re dead, Staylie. You just messed with a lion, girl!
Grab!
Before she could run, the man—who had just caught her red-handed—grabbed her wrist.
She struggled.
“Let go, sir! Let go!” Staylie yanked her arm repeatedly, but the grip only tightened.
Yup. The VIP guest—aka "Ujang Mandadang"—had officially caught her.
“You’ve been following me this whole time, haven’t you?”
Karel had noticed her earlier—her sneaky movements, the way she pressed against the walls and peeked around corners. The walkie-talkie, the spy gear—it was obvious. No wonder he was suspicious.
He recognized her face immediately. The uniform, the makeup—everything screamed Staylie.
She kept resisting, trying to break free.
Thud!
Karel, now feeling used and played, pressed her back lightly against the wall. One arm shot out to block her escape, slapping the wall beside her head.
Staylie, stunned, closed her eyes and lifted both arms defensively over her face.
“Just be honest with me, Miss Staylie,” Karel’s tone was firm, but not cruel. There was still a trace of pity in his voice.
“Why have you been following me in secret like this?”
Still, she said nothing. So Karel slammed his palm against the wall again, harder this time.
“Miss Staylie.” The walkie crackled again—terrible timing. “Target has disappeared.” Pak Asep’s voice was fading through the static.
Feeling the tension spike, Staylie hurriedly shut the walkie off.
Click.
She pressed the power button and hid the device.
“Do you even have a mouth?” Karel growled, lowering his head to meet her eyes. He was furious now.
Staylie’s body turned ice cold. Finally, she dared to peek up at his face and lower her trembling arms. Her expression was pale.
Was she really that scared of Karel?
“Please, sir, don’t punish me…” she whimpered like a schoolgirl caught skipping class.
Karel scoffed, annoyed, one hand now resting on his hip while the other still blocked her in. He continued,
“You haven’t even explained why you followed me here. How am I supposed to ‘punish’ you if I don’t even know what you’ve done?” He tried to hold back his anger. He hated when people invaded his privacy.
“Please, just let me go…” she pleaded again, not answering his questions, desperate to escape.
Seeing her trembling body and pale face, Karel relented.
He let her go. But before she could leave...
“I’ll let you go—on one condition.”
“What condition, sir?” she asked quietly, not looking at him.
“The condition is…”
---
Chaos would only grow from here.
Ever since that day when Staylie was caught spying on him, one absurd thing after another kept happening between them.
One of the most ridiculous moments? When Staylie was cleaning the room of the oh-so-mysterious man…
Vrrrm!
She was vacuuming under the bed, humming to herself. But then—crunch—her high heel stepped on something at the edge.
Curious, she leaned down and picked it up.
“What’s this? A card?” It looked like a credit card or ID—but made of paper.
“A business card maybe?” she flipped it over.
Her eyes scanned the print. "Name: Imanuel Karel Arisatya. Phone..."
A business card. With his real name.
Wait—what?! His real name was Imanuel Karel Arisatya?!
No way. Staylie stared at the card, nodding slowly in disbelief. She held it up at eye level, studying every detail.
Later, she waited for him on the balcony of the room.
Click.
Thunk.
Hearing the door open, Staylie immediately walked back inside, acting like an agent catching a fugitive.
“Imanuel Karel Arisatya… what do they even call you for short?”
Karel, standing by the edge of the bed, snapped his head toward her. His expression darkened.
Oh no. She was dead again.
He stormed toward her.
“How do you know my real name?” he demanded, causing Staylie to step backward instinctively.
She backed up like a victim being cornered by a thief.
“I found it… your business card fell under the bed.” she confessed.
“Oh, really?” Karel was skeptical. He kept approaching.
“Yeah,” she nodded, her face visibly tense.
Thud!
Just like yesterday, Karel pinned her again—this time in a different corner of the room.
Staylie yelped in shock. Her back slammed against the wall, a sharp sting running down her spine.
“Where’s my business card?!” Karel snapped, holding out a hand.
Staylie shook her head silently.
“Miss Staylie, please. Cooperate.” He stressed the last word.
Still, she just shook her head again, lips curled in mockery.
“You wanna play games with me?!” Karel was boiling now.
Without warning, Staylie shoved him away, pulled the card from her skirt pocket, and raised it in the air.
“Come get it, if you dare!” Her mocking grin drove him mad.
Karel lunged at her.
“Nope! Missed!” Staylie dodged expertly, darting across the room.
And just like that—they were chasing each other around.
“MISS STAYLIE! Get off my bed!”
Staylie had climbed up onto the mattress, jumping like a possessed maniac, still taunting him.
Thud.
Karel followed her up, stepping onto the bed.
She backed away quickly.
“Where do you think you’re going, huh? Haha!” Karel sneered, watching her frightened face.
“Oh no, no no—Staylie—”
“Aaah! Uwaaahhh!”
Crash!