Chapter 14 — End of Line Bus 08

Eight forty-five in the morning.

The vacant land area of dozens of hectares preparing for Phase 2 of the Dai Nam Dong Super Project has been cleaned and flat. A giant tent was set up in the middle of the lot, spreading a red carpet from the street to the main stage. Hundreds of congratulatory flower baskets lined up in long rows. Under the canopy, the rows of seats upholstered in pristine white fabric were filled with guests - the city's leading officials, major financial partners, and the first two rows of seats reserved for dozens of media agencies carrying state-of-the-art video cameras and cameras.

On the speaking podium, Bui Thanh Long - Chairman of Dai Nam Group - was standing in front of the microphone. He was in his sixties, his hair dyed jet black and slicked with gel, wearing a hand-made suit from Italy, exuding the authority of an old wolf masquerading as a successful businessman.

"Dear distinguished guests," Mr. Long's voice rang out through the high-power speaker system, warm and convincing. "Phase 2 of Dai Nam Dong is not just a real estate project. It is our commitment to a 'Green Urban, Sustainable Development'. We apply the most advanced foundation technologies to ensure absolute safety, while protecting the area's underground ecological environment..."

*BAMMMMM!*

A loud explosion rang out from the main gate, interrupting the speech. The people sitting in the last row turned around.

The solid steel security barrier was thrown into the air like a toy. From within the cloud of dust, a giant blue and white machine rushed straight into the ceremony area.

It was bus number 08. The paint on both sides of the car was scratched in large patches, mud was all over the windshield, and the front bumper was dented after last night's clash. It looked like a steel beast that had just escaped from hell, roaring straight towards the red carpet.

The crowd screamed in panic and moved to both sides. Dai Nam's security team wearing black vests quickly pulled out electric batons and rushed out to block the attack, but no one dared to stand in front of an oncoming ten-ton vehicle.

Exactly fifteen meters from the main stage, Tran Tue stepped on the brake. The bus slid across the red carpet, leaving behind two burning black tire tracks, then stopped with a bang right in front of the VIP seats.

Dead silence covered the area for a few seconds, with only the sound of the bus engine making heavy puffing noises.

The front door opens. Lam Huy stepped down.

He's not wearing a suit. His clothes were wrinkled, covered in grease from the mechanical workshop, and on his forehead were traces of dried blood from last night's scratches. But his demeanor is not that of a loser. He walked steadily, carrying a black backpack in one hand and a megaphone in the other hand from the bus's rescue compartment.

He walked past the ruined flower baskets and headed straight towards the speaking podium, where Bui Thanh Long was standing still, his fake smile frozen on his lips. Behind him, Vu - the Group Security Director, a man with a long scar from his ear to his neck - reached into his vest, ready to pull out his weapon.

"Bui Thanh Long!" Huy's voice rang out through the loudspeaker, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd and the rustle of the camera lens pointed at him. "You talk about sustainable development? You talk about advanced foundation technology advance?"

Huy unzipped his backpack, pulled out the red folders and the yellowed A0 drawing roll that he had stolen from the Van Loc archives last night. He held them up high in front of dozens of media cameras filming close-ups.

"This is the original contract signed by Bui Thanh Long! Contract to bury thousands of tons of industrial chemicals and radioactive medical waste straight into the foundation of Block B! And this..." Huy spread the drawing roll out into the air, "is the actual construction design of Phase 2 that you are about to hold the groundbreaking ceremony for. A meticulously calculated design so that the entire urban area will sink and collapse after twenty years, to permanently bury the radioactive landfill below and create a new cycle of construction corruption!

The whole audience roared in surprise. The sounds of commotion turned into angry murmurs. The journalists, who were sensitive to the smell of blood, immediately started shooting, their flashes brightly illuminating the entire area.

Bui Thanh Long's face changed from gray to red. He quickly waved to the security team. "Protect! This guy is crazy! Arrest him, he is slandering the Group!"

Vu and fifteen burly guards rushed towards Huy.

At that moment, the clock struck exactly nine in the morning.

In the pockets and pockets of hundreds of guests, journalists, and even officials on stage, smartphones vibrated at the same time.

In just a split second, hacker K's "Dead man's switch" was activated. Gigabytes of data – videos of tank trucks dumping chemicals, falsified geological reports, bank account statements transferring money to gangsters, and photos of the list of five people killed – were automatically sent to the email boxes of all major newspaper offices across the country, and distributed directly to the largest social networking platforms with coverage that cannot be removed.

A journalist in the front row glanced at his phone, then looked up and looked at Bui Thanh Long with horrified eyes. "Oh my god... The video clearly shows Mr. Vu's face instructing the burial... There are also money transfer documents..."

The commotion exploded into real chaos. The journalists no longer cared about being stopped by security, they rushed forward, pointed their microphones straight at Bui Thanh Long, and asked questions. The officials hastily backed away, trying to avoid being caught in the same frame as a man who had just become the most dangerous criminal in the country.

Bui Thanh Long took a step back, his confidence completely collapsed. The old man turned to look at Vu, his eyes turning from panic to cruelty like that of a cornered animal. "Get me the backpack containing the original documents. At all costs! Internet data can bribe experts to distort, but not my fresh signature!"

Vu nodded. Instead of rushing at Huy, who was surrounded by the press, he pulled out a tear gas grenade from his vest (a weapon banned from possession by civil defense forces) and threw it hard onto the red carpet.

With a dry *pop* sound, acrid white smoke emitted blindly, completely obscuring everyone's vision. The sound of coughing and screaming and trampling echoed everywhere.

Huy covered his face, tears streaming from the acrid smoke, trying to hold on tightly to his backpack. Suddenly, a powerful punch from a metal bear's hand hit him directly on the temple. Huy staggered and collapsed fell to the ground, eyes bursting with fireflies. The backpack slipped from his hand.

In the smoke screen, Huy glimpsed Vu picking up the backpack. But he didn't stop there. Vu rushed towards the bus.

Tran Tue was about to open the window to reverse the car when Vu smashed the driver's side window with the butt of a gun. He reached in, ripped open the door, dragged Tue out with terrifying force, grabbed the girl's neck, and pressed a black K54 pistol to her temple.

"Let us go!" Vu roared, his voice roaring like a wild animal. He held Tue's neck as a hostage, carried a backpack containing original documents, and backed away towards a black armored SUV waiting behind the stage with the engine running. Bui Thanh Long was put in the car by two bodyguards beforehand.

When the smoke cleared, Huy forced himself to stand up, his head aching like a hammer. He just had time to see the armored SUV accelerate and speed away, tearing through the barrier to escape onto the main road.

On the red carpet, there was only extreme chaos, police car sirens began to echo in the distance.

Huy checked his chest pocket again. The USB containing the original data is still there. But the backpack containing a signed paper contract - the only thing that could indisputably convict Bui Thanh Long before the law - was stolen. And worst of all, Tue is in their hands.

Huy's phone vibrated. A text message arrived from an unknown number.

*"You have the USB. I have the driver's child and a bunch of papers. At 12 noon today, bring the USB containing the original unencrypted files to the Old Bus Scrap Yard at Mien Dong Bus Station. Come alone, don't call the police. Otherwise, tomorrow people will find the driver's body dumped in concrete in a drum."*

Huy held the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The groundbreaking ceremony was ruined. The media bomb has exploded. But the real war has only come to the final, bloody and uncompromising game.