Chapter 53 — Shrimp Street Without Name

A week after meeting with Mr. Ba Do, Kien came to Hai Yen with a proposal that made her think for a long time before answering. He had an old friend who worked at the port, who knew how to access the internal system of the transportation company affiliated with Hung Phat Nhan Luc, which could store more detailed information about the passenger ships that Phu once recounted.

“He's willing to help, but it's not entirely legal,” Kien said, his voice cautious. "We will have to access the data without official permission. If discovered, not only will my friend be in trouble, but the evidence obtained may also not be recognized in court because it was obtained illegally."

Hai Yen pondered, weighing potential benefits and legal risks. “I understand the temptation,” she said after a long moment. "But I don't think we should go down that road. Not just because of the risk to your friend, but because if we start compromising our own principles, even once, we won't be any different from what we're trying to fight against."

“But if that data can save more lives,” Kien countered, his voice filled with concern. “If we can determine exactly how many people have been taken away, where they are, should we pass up such an opportunity just out of principle?”

The debate between the two lasted all evening, each giving sharp arguments from his own perspective. This was the first time since they began this journey that they truly disagreed on an important issue, and they both felt the weight of this debate, not only tactically but also morally.

“I understand why you want to do that,” Hai Yen said finally, her voice softening. "This is a matter related to your brother, to people like Khai. I don't blame you for wanting to do everything to save more people. But I think the right path, even if slower, is still the only path that can bring lasting justice, instead of a fragile victory that can collapse as soon as it is challenged in court."

Kien was silent for a long time, then finally sighed and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me. We'll continue on the legal path, even if it's slower."

“I would ask the lieutenant to find a way to get an official order to access that data,” Hai Yen said, trying to find a middle ground. “If the evidence is strong enough, perhaps we can convince the court to issue a search warrant within a short period of time.”

The next morning, good news suddenly arrived: Phu called, his voice trembling but full of determination. "Miss Yen, I have thought carefully. I agree to testify."

Hai Yen felt a wave of relief spread throughout her body. "Are you sure? You don't need to rush, we can wait."

“I don't want to wait anymore,” Phu replied, his voice much steadier than the last time we met. "Last night I lay down and thought, if I stay quiet, maybe more children like me will be tricked into boarding the train and suffer like I did. I don't want that to happen again."

She immediately informed the lieutenant, who confirmed that he would send someone to pick Phu up for witness protection that same day, and used his own testimony. His knowledge served as a basis for applying for an urgent search warrant for the data system of the transportation company affiliated with Hung Phat Nhan Luc.

“With the direct testimony of a victim who experienced that trip, we have enough grounds to ask the court to issue a search warrant without resorting to unofficial measures,” the lieutenant announced over the phone, his voice excited. “This is exactly the kind of solid evidence we need, obtained through due process, that cannot be dismissed on procedural grounds.”

That news made Hai Yen turn to look at Kien. They both understood that their decision to persevere on the legal path last night had paid off handsomely. “See,” she said, her voice gentle but meaningful. "Sometimes, the right path is not always slower. It just requires us to patiently believe in it."

Kien nodded, a relieved smile appearing on his face, which had been tense throughout the previous evening. "I'm sorry for doubting, Yen. You always have a better view than me in situations like this."

“No need to apologize,” Hai Yen replied, smiling. "It's your eagerness to save people that keeps me believing in the reason we're doing all of this. It's just that sometimes, we need to balance our heart and head, so as not to lose ourselves in the pursuit of justice."

In the afternoon, an official search warrant was issued, and the investigation team seized the entire server system of the transportation company involved, opening a completely new chapter for the investigation, with the hope of finding clues about the fate of those who have been taken away over the years.

Before being put into witness protection, Phu asked to meet Hai Yen one more time, to give her something he had kept hidden since their first meeting: a small, crumpled piece of paper he had secretly kept from that fateful train.

"I found this dropped in the ship's cabin. It seems to belong to one of the people who was taken on board that time," Phu said, handing the piece of paper to Hai Yen with trembling hands. "I've been keeping it ever since. I don't know what it's for, but I can't bear to throw it away."

Hai Yen opened the piece of paper and saw that it was a piece of paper with a few handwritten lines in shaky handwriting, probably written in a moment of panic: a name, a phone number that was almost faded, and a short but heartbreaking line: "If anyone finds it, please let my family know I'm alive."

She felt a choking sensation rise in her heart at the vivid, painful evidence of the anonymous people caught up in this crime ring. She carefully kept the piece of paper, promising to immediately transfer it to the investigation agency, hoping that the phone number, even though it was faded, could still be recovered by technical means, so that at least the family of the person who wrote the note could know part of the truth about their missing relative.

“Thank you, Phu,” she said, her voice choked. “For keeping this, for trusting it to us.”

“I just hope it helps someone,” Phu replied, his eyes filling with tears. "I can't save the person who wrote that note, but I hope at least their family will know the truth."

That afternoon, when Phu was taken away under the protection of the authorities, Hai Yen stood and watched As the car disappeared, her heart was filled with a feeling of both heaviness and strength. That small piece of paper, more than any technical evidence or legal document, reminded her of the true nature of this war — not numbers, not trials, but real people, real lives waiting to be found, to be heard, to be given justice.

That night, she brought the piece of paper and submitted it directly to the lieutenant, who carefully put it in a specialized evidence bag, promising to immediately send it to the technical examination department to try to recover the faded phone number. “We will do our best,” he said, his voice solemn. “Even if it's just a small piece of paper, it could be the key to helping a family finally know the truth after years of waiting in vain.”

On the way home, Hai Yen told Kien about the note, her voice still filled with emotion. He listened in silence, then took her hand. “I think, this is why we are not allowed to give up, no matter how difficult the road is,” he said. “Because out there, there are still other pieces of paper, other stories, waiting to be told.”

Hai Yen nodded, squeezed his hand, feeling a new determination, deeper than ever, taking root in her heart for the remaining part of the journey, a journey that she knew now no longer belonged only to her or her family, but to all the pieces of paper, the names, the stories that had never been told, waiting for someone brave enough to listen and speak up for them, no matter how long and difficult the road ahead was. no matter how many new obstacles they face in the coming days.