He reached into his pocket for an ID.
Good.
Now it’s documented.
Another plainclothes officer approached from the other side, acting like a curious neighbor. “Ay, ikaw pala yung nagkabit kay Mang Ruel? Ang bilis non ah.”
The technician’s eyes flicked briefly—annoyance. He didn’t like being recognized.
I stepped back slightly, giving space, acting like a normal homeowner who’s confused.
The “barangay staff” officer looked at the ID, nodded, then said casually, “Okay po. Need lang po namin i-log. Ano po full name?”
The technician hesitated for a fraction of a second, then answered with a name. A name I didn’t know.
But the officer wrote it down. Clean.
Then the “neighbor” officer asked, “Boss mo si Ramos, ’di ba? Siya lagi naming nakikitang nag-aalok.”
The technician’s smile tighte
