Around noon, Jagoan found himself alone in a bustling Sterling restaurant nestled within the heart of Chinatown. He savored each bite of his meal, the flavors of home bringing a semblance of comfort to his day. But as he ate, the tranquility was shattered by the sudden arrival of two Immigration Bureau police cars. Their flashing lights silently screamed trouble.

Jagoan kept his head down, seemingly indifferent to the commotion unfolding outside the restaurant’s window.

Several police officers rushed in with haste, snapping photos of the patrons. Abruptly, they approached Jagoan, their voices raised in unison, “Are you Jagoan, the one who smuggled into the United States from Malaysia?”

Jagoan raised his head, feigning innocence as he shook it, “No.”

The officers reviewed the photo again and shared a knowing sneer. One of them turned to his colleagues, whispering, “That’s him, let’s take him in!”

Before Jagoan could react, they pounced, twisting his arms behind his back and handcuffing him.

He pretended to resist for a moment, but when the threat of a drawn weapon loomed, he wisely ceased struggling.

The officers bundled him into one of their cars, sirens blaring as they raced toward the immigration office.

At this juncture, the officers were ignorant of Jagoan’s background. All they knew was that their superiors had tipped them off about a Malaysian illegal immigrant suspected of multiple thefts lurking in a Chinatown eatery, instructing them to seize the opportunity and apprehend him.

Once at the immigration office, they confiscated Jagoan’s Malaysian passport, a decrepit old mobile phone, and a little over two hundred dollars in cash. Verification of his passport’s identity information confirmed his status as an illegal immigrant from Malaysia.

Jagoan was temporarily confined in the immigration office’s detention room, awaiting his uncertain fate.

Upon arrival, Jagoan found himself surrounded by at least twenty others who shared the same predicament. These detainees spanned various skin tones, their expressions marked by despair and fear.

Spotting Jagoan, an Asian man with a scruffy beard approached him, struggling with his English accent as he asked, “Are you Japanese?”

Jagoan shook his head, replying, “I’m Malaysian, but my parents are Chinese.”

Another Asian-faced man with short hair perked up upon hearing this. He exclaimed, “Brother, I’m Chinese too! We share common roots!”

nodded and inquired, “How did you end

I was even robbed on my journey here. I arrived with nothing, set up a makeshift tent in the park, only for it to be stolen by an old guy. I thought about pilfering a bicycle for food deliveries, but the police caught me, and

York instead of Los Angeles?

know your stuff, Brother! You didn’t come through the wire,

shook his head, revealing, “I

from your hometown – not like us, enduring a grueling journey. I’ve been through hell, it’s as if I’d have to skin myself

the group chimed in, “Hell, even riding a boat is no picnic. Imagine standing the whole time, sometimes having to swim for kilometers. Over sixty of us

shrank back, adding, “My mother deeply regrets sending me here. This place isn’t a paradise, it’s a purgatory. The swindler agent told me I could make seven to eight grand washing dishes in a month. But when I got here, eight of us fought over a single dish

“Brother, you asked why I didn’t go to Los Angeles. Well, initially, I did. After arriving from Mexico, a bunch of us made our way to Los Angeles, only to realize

asked, “How did you make it from the west coast

of course. It’s a long haul, so we followed a few seasoned hobos, the

“I thought, ‘This city’s bustling, there must be a place for me here.’ I contemplated finding work in Chinatown, settled on

faint smile,

often result in mere days behind bars. After release, I assumed they’d deport me, but they couldn’t care less. Now, I’ll be back on the streets… If I’d known the U.S.

nodded and suggested, “If you find a way, maybe consider

funds. The Americans won’t deport me, and retracing my steps

focus on saving money to

ages saving for this journey. Along the way, I indulged in foods I’d never

couldn’t help but chuckle, asking, “What did you do before coming

bitterly, “Construction, food delivery, odd jobs, even a bit of

the locals shunned were available to them. Hogan had been a financial luminary back in Hong Kong, but in the United States, he eked out a living running a

muttered, “I’m just speaking from the heart. If I

the midst of this, several more illegal immigrants were escorted in by the police and placed into a detention room. Among them was a yellow-skinned officer who fixed his gaze on Jagoan and beckoned,

short-haired man, curious about the exchange, piped up, “Hey, buddy, what did he just call

and exchanged greetings with the short-haired man. “He’s

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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