One of the townsfolk swiftly contacted the nearest hospital, reporting that a man had suffered a grievous head injury.
Fifteen minutes later, the ambulance arrived, its siren cutting through the tense silence of the alley.
The medical staff descended at once, bending over Havi to conduct their initial examination.
Though unconscious and frail, he still clung to life, his pulse faint yet present, his breathing shallow but discernible.
Once assured that his airway was clear and his heart still beat, they resolved to carry him without delay to hospital.
With the aid of a male nurse and several residents, Havi's body was lifted onto a stretcher and borne into the waiting ambulance.
The vehicle departed at speed, siren wailing, racing through the streets towards salvation.
The middle aged woman, whose bag had been snatched, watched with conflicted eyes.
Pity stirred within her as she recalled the brutal beating he had endured.
Though guilty of theft, she thought the mob's violence excessive, a punishment too severe.
She wondered if his crime had been born not of pleasure but of necessity, a desperate bid for survival.
She had glimpsed his handsome face, his athletic frame, and found it difficult to reconcile such an image with the reality of crime.
"Is there something wrong with this world? Why does a man so handsome have no work, and yet become a thief?!" She thought, her mind troubled.
Perhaps, had time been kinder, she might have offered him honest employment, a chance at redemption.
But now it was too late. The deed was done, and the course of fate could not be altered.
Nuriana Salim, aged fifty five, was a woman of considerable standing in Telaga city.
Her wealth and influence stretched across property, building materials, medical distribution, and a chain of mini markets scattered throughout the city.
Her fortune was vast, drawn from office towers, commercial land, fleets of vehicles, and shares in local companies.
Each month, her ventures yielded billions of rupiah, yet she was equally renowned for her generosity, her name often appearing among benefactors of orphanages and educational foundations.
Moments after the ambulance had departed, the police arrived, their presence restoring order to the alley.
They secured the scene and began to take statements from those who had witnessed the affair.
Nuriana, composed yet troubled, gave her account with precision.
She described the incident from the moment her bag was snatched to the mob's furious assault upon the thief.
Her testimony was complete, leaving no detail untold.
The officers recorded her words and gathered the accounts of others.
Each witness spoke truthfully, recounting the events exactly as they had unfolded, without embellishment or omission.
Among those who had struck Havi, regret weighed heavily.
Shame lingered in their voices as they admitted the violence, the cruelty, and the vigilante justice they had inflicted.
The alley, once filled with rage, now echoed with remorse, as the people of Telaga city confronted the bitter reality of their own actions.
Inspector Adjutant Wildan Prakoso, thirty two years of age, had listened carefully to the accounts of witnesses and residents, recording each statement with meticulous care.
He ensured that the injured man had already been taken to hospital by the medical team before turning his attention to the crowd.
He ordered that those without further business should disperse at once, restoring order to the alley.
Several of the townsfolk directly involved in the assault were instructed to attend the police station later, where they would provide additional testimony.
With faces heavy with regret, the residents withdrew one by one, their departure marked by silence and subdued steps.
The atmosphere was sombre, the weight of their actions pressing upon them.
Only Nuriana remained. She insisted upon accompanying the officers to the hospital where Havi was being treated.
At first, Inspector Wildan refused, believing her testimony already sufficient.
He assured her that if anything further were required, the police would inform her.
Yet Nuriana's determination softened his resolve.
She explained that her purpose was to pay the hospital expenses, and at last the officer relented.
"Thank you, Officer! Once again, I truly thank you!" Said Nuriana, bowing slightly in respect.
"The important thing is that you're genuinely intending to cover the hospital administration fees, aren't you, Ma'am?" Replied Inspector Wildan with kindness.
"Yes, Officer! I'll certainly pay them!" Answered Nuriana with conviction.
Without delay, Inspector Wildan departed together with Nuriana, making their way to the hospital where Havi lay under urgent care.
Nuriana accompanied Inspector Wildan in the official police car, leaving her own vehicle behind in the crowded parking area of Mulyo Market.
Her thoughts remained fixed upon the thief.
Something about him unsettled her, as though there was a truth hidden beneath the surface that she had not yet grasped.
He had wronged her, and by all reason she should have felt anger or relief that the culprit was caught and now lay in hospital care.
Yet her heart betrayed her. Compassion stirred, inexplicable and persistent.
Even bloodied, his face had retained its striking features, so unlike the image of a criminal she had carried in her mind.
Before his body collapsed to the ground, she had glimpsed his eyes, weak, defeated, yet shadowed by sorrow, as if silently pleading.
It seemed to her that he had not chosen crime willingly, but had been driven to it by circumstance.
She drew a long breath and closed her eyes for a moment, "What is wrong with me?!" She thought. "Why am I dwelling upon a thief, a repeat offender who has clearly harmed me?!"
Inspector Wildan, at the wheel, observed her quietly. He knew her well enough.
Nuriana Salim was a woman of renown in Telaga, a business figure whose enterprises spanned property, trade, and distribution, and whose presence was often noted at official and social gatherings.
As an officer frequently deployed in the field, Wildan had seen her at events organised by the police, like charity drives, aid distributions, and meetings with local entrepreneurs.
Her name was recorded formally among guest lists and benefactors, her role as donor and partner acknowledged by the institution.
Now, as the car sped towards the hospital, Inspector Wildan recognised not merely the businesswoman, but a figure troubled by conscience, a woman whose compassion refused to be silenced even in the face of crime.