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Timothy's heart skipped a beat at seeing the tool bag under the bed when he entered the room. With the bright light, the small handgun gleamed, and the bundles of master keys reminded him of a crime film. The trust he kept in Ronnie cracked like glass.

When Ronnie spotted Timothy standing there, he quickly zipped the bag shut. Then he calmly said, "Timothy, you are not supposed to see this."

"What are these weapons?" Timothy asked with an unsteady voice. You said that you were starting an export-import business. Which business needs these drills, cutters, and ... the gun?"

Silence spread through the room for a moment.Ronnie's face was unreadable, but he smiled with a tired look.

"You are right; that has no relation to the import or export. I lied to you. But these are not doubtful things.”

Timothy felt that his chest tightened.

"Then tell me, what is the right story?”

Ronnie leaned against the wall and thought about whether Timothy would believe his story. Already, he had lied to Timothy. Now, he can't hide the truth, as he saw the tool bag.

Finally, he spoke. "I am dealing with things that were stolen. Sometimes, it may be jewels, documents, or people. My tools are not for stealing but for finding them.”

Timothy frowned. "That means you are some kind of secret agent?"

Ronnie shook his head. "I am not an official one. But some groups know me. They call me when no one acts. I don't have a badge, but I carry these tools.

Timothy wanted to laugh, but his throat was dry. "Do you expect that I believe this? It's like a cheap novel." Timothy said.

Ronnie, sadly, said, "You think it is a fiction? No, my sister lost a priceless necklace made from gold and gems. The police knew the thief. However, the police never caught him, as he had political power.

My sister was worried about it and begged the police to catch him, but nothing came of it. On that day, I decided no thief should sleep peacefully. Since then, I have been engaged in this activity. His last words were full of sorrow, and Timothy understood that there was a pain under his calm mask.

---

Most days, Ronnie went out of the room late at night with his bag. He returned to the room at dawn, with muddy shoes or sometimes with small scratches on his hands.

Timothy stopped inquiring him, and Ronnie never even explained things.

The days passed without anything special. But, one rainy evening, Ronnie rushed to the room. His eyes were full of fear, and he was completely soaked. He said, "Timothy, don't leave this room today, and if anyone taps the door, do not open it."

Timothy asked in fear, "Why is that?"

"A group of dangerous people is pursuing me. Be silent; they won't harm you.”

Hours passed; nothing was heard, only the rain beating on the roof.

Suddenly, the noise of footsteps was heard outside the lane. It was people who were searching for Ronnie. Timothy's heart pounded, and he looked at Ronnie. He was near the window, holding his gun. Little by little, the footstep moved away. Silence returned.

Ronnie, breaking the silence, said, "They stole a valued painting from a temple, and I got it back from them. They are pursuing me. Tomorrow the headlines will say it was recovered, but they never mention me.”

Timothy looked at him unbelievably. "Why do you risk your life for that which is not even yours?"

Ronnie grinned and said, "It is because no one else does it."

---

The next morning, headlines confirmed it, but the police did not reveal the source.

As Timothy read the news, his hand shook. His doubt became grounded. When he looked at Ronnie, he was packing his luggage.

You are a kind man. They are chasing me. I don't want to put you in trouble.

Ronnie, close to Timothy, hugged him tightly and said, "Goodbye."

Before leaving, he left an envelope on Timothy's table.

Timothy opened the envelope; there was a carved stone pendant and a small letter. The letter said, "Not stolen. Saved. A gift, thus, will stay in your memory more than a mystery."

His eyes filled with tears. He looked up to say something, but he had already left. The empty bed brought him loneliness.

---

Weeks passed. When Timothy reads headlines about lost jewels and documents being found, he always remembers Ronnie.

Timothy is still thinking about whether Ronnie is a spy or a hero. But he only knew he was a brave man who lived in the dark and light. Every time he saw the shining stone pendant, he whispered, "Good luck, Ronnie, wherever you are."

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