Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
As he spoke, my blood seemed to boil.
As though I, too, were taking part in this punishment delivered on Heaven's behalf.
We talked much more and discovered how closely our views aligned.
We both had a fierce hunger for revenge with nowhere to direct it.
The difference was that Lâm Quy could turn it into action.
There was only one thing I didn't understand.
“Why tell me everything?”
“Because you're a born liar.”
He smiled as though he could see right through me.
“Your logic is tight. Your lies have almost no holes. You create a coherent system to support them.
“So I wasn't looking for you in the beginning.
“You deliberately put me in your novel, then paid to promote it so I'd be sure to see it.
“You made me come to you.
“Which makes me wonder: why were you looking for me?”
I looked up.
“At first, I only wanted to cause serious trouble for Trình Hàm and the others. I didn't expect to get caught in it myself.”
He shook his head.
“Well, you did cause them serious trouble.”
11
I poured water over my upper body and returned to the cell looking exhausted, as though I had been tortured.
The sight frightened the others even more. They feared he would do the same to them.
None noticed that something had been mixed into the bread.
That night, sleeping pills sent everyone into a deep sleep.
The next morning, we woke in panic, wrists and ankles bound, each immersed in a separate barrel of water.
Lâm Quy sat comfortably in front of us, playing with several remotes.
“Today, I feel like combining kindness with force.
“You've had the bread reward. Now for punishment.
“Questions again. The water will get hotter and hotter.
“Fail to answer, and you'll be boiled alive.”
Trình Hàm screamed like a madwoman, calling him insane.
Vương Hổ only managed a few curses before the hot water made him shriek.
I glanced at my own barrel.
Not only did the temperature stay comfortable, a little toy duck floated on the surface.
I had nothing to say.
“Yesterday's question,” Lâm Quy continued. “You. Why did you push Hạ Diễn off the roof?”
Singled out, Từ Văn Hạo streamed with sweat.
He almost screamed the answer without hesitation.
“He brought it on himself!”
12
The truth emerged through his confession.
At Trình Hàm's instruction, he and Vương Hổ had forced Trần Mộng to pose for intimate photographs to make her leave school.
But afterward, seeing how young and pretty she was, he had wanted more.
In the abandoned classroom that night, she had endured a nightmare that would last her whole life.
Hạ Diễn, coming to ask her about schoolwork, had witnessed everything.
“The fucker dared hit me! Who did he think he was?”
Từ Văn Hạo was almost out of control.
“I let it go then. Told him if he talked, I'd make sure he couldn't survive at this school.”
But Hạ Diễn hadn't stayed silent.
He and Trần Mộng collected evidence to take to the police.
At first, Từ Văn Hạo wasn't afraid.
He used his family's influence to cost Hạ Diễn's parents their jobs, then used money to force them out of their home.
What he hadn't expected was that, factory workers though they were, they still supported their son's decision to report it.
Only then did he truly panic.
On a rainy day, he summoned Hạ Diễn to the roof, threatening to publish Trần Mộng's photographs on the school network if he didn't come.
Hạ Diễn had no choice but to go alone.
And that rainy night, Từ Văn Hạo pushed that upright young man into the abyss.
13
The LED-screen kidnapping livestream became the country's biggest news story.
No one cared whether the captives were safe.
The internet was furious.
“Seventeen or eighteen, and already acting like animals!”
“Hạ Diễn thought he was protecting her right to the end...”
“Why weren't these bastards the ones who died?”
“I'm in City A. Death penalty!”
“City B. Same!”
Every trace of their social media histories was dug up.
At school, students went into their classroom and smashed their desks and chairs.
Their families were in crisis too.
Stock prices plunged. White mourning flowers piled up outside their homes.
Red words appeared on their doors.
“A life for a life.”
At last, the police traced the signal.
“Decryption complete.”
The technician removed his glasses.
“We have the IP address.”
13
The fifth day of our captivity.
Lâm Quy stood before us without doing anything.
He wore a demon mask and stared at them, tapping his bloodstained axe against the floor.
Soon, someone lost control.
“Kill me! What do you want?”
“I was going to let you go.”
He smiled and pointed toward the exit.
The door had always been locked.
Từ Văn Hạo tried it.
It opened.
Everyone froze, then fled in panic.
Soon, only Lâm Quy and I remained.
“Are the police nearly here?” I asked.
“It's been long enough. Long enough for them to face their sins.”
On the monitors, we watched them quickly lose their way in the maze of rooms.
Từ Văn Hạo entered one.
A projection suddenly lit up.
Hạ Diễn.
The boy he had pushed from the roof.
Twisted and bloody, the 3D image made the corpse appear real, right before him.
He fell in terror and crawled toward the exit.
The door wouldn't open.
All around him, the moment of death played over and over.
Trình Hàm was swallowed by a bloodred room too.
A voice repeated, “Are you ready to atone?”
She screamed in despair.
We seemed to be admiring a work of art made from their collapse.
“Your idea was excellent,” Lâm Quy said with a small smile. “It made the game much more interesting.”
On the screen, armed police stormed the abandoned factory.
He sighed.
“A pity. Game over.”
14
November seventh.
The kidnapping that had shocked the country ended.
Four hostages were rescued.
Strangely, although the police had surrounded the entire factory, they found no sign of the kidnapper.
No trace at all.
Only a few words remained on the cell's white wall.
“The Judge.”
A policewoman helped me into a car, gave me plenty of food, and even brought a psychologist to reassure me.
Though I had eaten my fill, I had to pretend to be ravenous and wolf it all down.
Only half an hour later did the police bring the others out.
They looked as though they had experienced something horrific.
Eyes blank, they kept muttering, “Don't come for me.”
Từ Văn Hạo recovered first.
Seeing an officer, he clutched the man's arm like a drowning person finding a lifeline.
His eyes were fierce.
“Have you caught him? You have to catch the kidnapper!”
The officer glanced at him and answered dismissively.
“That's police business.”
Trình Hàm was put into my car.
She was too terrified to think. It took her a long time to come around.
Seeing the coat around me and the cup of warm water in my hands, she abandoned appearances and screamed angrily.
“Why didn't you give me any? I want food too!”
The policewoman looked at her, her expression complicated.
“That's all there is. We'll be at the station soon.”
“Where are my parents? Why aren't they here?”
“I don't know.”
“What's with your attitude? I'm a victim! Is this how you protect victims? I'll complain!
“My uncle works in the police department!”
The officer gave her a disgusted glance and didn't answer again.
Perhaps Trình Hàm didn't know that her uncle was already under investigation and being dealt with.
Her parents were facing bankruptcy and could barely take care of themselves.
At the station, we were separated for statements.
Without changing expression, I invented an ordinary high-school girl's account of being abducted.
Now and then, I “accidentally” mentioned something Trình Hàm or Từ Văn Hạo had done.
The police already knew about the livestream. My account matched it, so they suspected nothing.
Leaving the interview room, I happened to see Từ Văn Hạo being led away in handcuffs.
He struggled wildly.
“What are you doing? Why are you arresting me? I'm a victim! Where are my parents? I want my parents!”
He would get his wish soon.
His parents had covered up his murder. They were accomplices too.
The whole family would soon be reunited.
In prison.
A month later, I returned to school.
Classmates who had avoided me because of Trình Hàm's threats began showing kindness.
The verdicts were announced.
Từ Văn Hạo was already eighteen.
For sexual assault and intentional homicide, he was sentenced to death.
His parents received ten years as accomplices.
Trình Hàm and Vương Hổ received fifteen years.
No one involved escaped.
Hạ Diễn's and Trần Mộng's parents sobbed in court.
That day, students crowded before the school's large LED screen to watch the trial.
In the front row, I saw Lâm Quy.
His long hair still hid his eyes. He wore dark glasses, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.
I heard someone ask him, “Happy? No one's going to bully you anymore!”
Only I knew he was admiring his great masterpiece.
Our eyes met through the crowd.
Then we turned and walked in opposite directions, like strangers.
The school had locked Hạ Diễn's old desk in a storeroom.
Suddenly, I wanted to see the traces left by that upright, unfortunate boy.
I hadn't expected to meet Trần Mộng there.
After half a year away, she had returned.
Her expression was cold now, as though nothing could knock her down again.
“You're the student who was kidnapped?”
I nodded.
Looking at Hạ Diễn's dusty desk and chair, her eyes reddened.
“They've been sentenced. I wanted to tell him.”
He had been lonely.
But she had been the one light in his dark life.
She liked to laugh, was cheerful, and often dragged him into group activities.
Only she had patiently helped him study.
He had been her salvation.
And she had been his light.
She began a livestream.
Facing what had been done to her, she said, “No girl wants to go through something like that. But I'm the victim. I won't think less of myself because of it.
“The people who hurt me are the ones who should feel remorse.
“I did nothing wrong.
“I've come back to school. I don't just want an ordinary life. I want a good university, a good job, travel, beautiful clothes. I want to take my parents out to see the world.
“I don't just want to live.
“I want to live well, for Hạ Diễn too.
“More brilliantly than anyone.”
The livestream made a huge impact.
Many girls bravely spoke about their own experiences of bullying.
Others who had been hurt found courage to start again.
There were still poisonous comments blaming victims.
But the online community soon challenged them until the commenters apologized.
My life grew quiet again.
Yet I always felt something was missing.
I often thought about our captivity.
Every time, my blood grew hot. Those memories seemed impossible to forget for the rest of my life.
One ordinary afternoon, I sat on a campus bench in the sun.
Someone sat beside me.
I looked at Lâm Quy in surprise.
He gazed up at the sky, not blinking in the bright midday light.
“I did a good deed.”
His voice was excited.
“I had people spread all their ‘heroic exploits’ inside prison.
“You know there's a hierarchy of contempt in there? What they did puts them at the bottom.
“I hear their cellmates torment them every day. A living death. They're becoming unstable too.
“Ha. Interesting.”
I listened, captivated.
At some point, I suddenly realized that perhaps I had become as mad as he was.
“Oh, Tiêu Hàm. Did you see yesterday's news?”
I paused.
“What news?”
“A wife died mysteriously. Her husband got a huge insurance payout.
“But I found a charge on his account that day. A diamond necklace. The next day, his secretary was wearing it.
“I feel like playing another game. Want to join?”
The rainy season had passed.
Clear skies stretched ahead.
I smiled and took his offered hand.
“Then I'll need a code name too.”
“A code name?”
“Judge Number Two.”
(The End)