Chapter 7 — Swept into the Wave of Love

The quarterfinals took place on a morning with mild rough seas. The waves were higher than usual, causing the organizers to consider postponing the competition schedule, but in the end decided to keep the plan after the rescue team confirmed that conditions were still within the allowable safety threshold. The stands were packed with people, loudspeakers blared to introduce each match, an atmosphere of tension and excitement enveloped Ghenh Rang beach.

Kien Ba Xuyen, a foreign athlete of Asian origin famous for his powerful fighting style, is about to enter his turn against a domestic opponent. He is one of the brightest candidates for this year's championship, having competed with Viet Khoi many times in other international tournaments and always maintaining a straightforward relationship, respecting each other in the spirit of sportsmanship.

Viet Khoi stood on the shore watching the match, taking the opportunity to observe the performance of potential opponents before his turn came. He saw Kien Ba Xuyen step into the water and do a few familiar warm-up moves before rowing out to the main wave area. But just a few minutes after the start of the competition, an unexpected incident occurred that caused the whole beach to suddenly fall silent for a moment before screams of panic rang out.

The leash connecting Kien Ba Xuyen's foot to the surfboard suddenly broke in the middle of a strong stroke, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the water just as the biggest wave of the morning hit. The surfboard flew away, and Kien Ba Xuyen was swept away by the whirlpool, floating among the white foam for a few terrifying seconds before the rescue team promptly rushed to the rescue, pulling him to safety despite choking on water and a severe bruise on his shoulder.

The whole beach was in an uproar, the audience was talking loudly, the medical team rushed to give first aid to Kien Ba Xuyen on the spot. Viet Khoi also ran down to the water's edge, along with several other athletes to help put him on a stretcher. His face was pale but luckily he had no serious injuries other than bruises and choking on water.

"Did the leash break on its own?" Viet Khoi asked a technician who was checking the broken rope picked up from the water, his voice full of doubt. Leashes are standard safety equipment, thoroughly tested before each tournament. Such incidents of breaking in the middle of the tournament are rare, especially with new ropes given to athletes by the organizers at the beginning of the season.

The technician picked up the wire to examine it, his face gradually turning worried. "It's strange, this cut doesn't look like it was cut due to natural traction. Looking closely... it's like a part was cut in advance, just waiting for a strong impact to break completely."

That comment sent chills down Viet Khoi's spine. He looked around and saw Lam Khue also standing in the crowd watching, her eyes fixed on the broken string with an unusual tension, as if she was remembering something from the past. He walked closer to her, lowered his voice and asked softly.

"Are you okay?"

Lam Khue turned around in surprise, trying to force a smile but could not hide the insecurity in her eyes. "I'm fine. It's just... this scene reminds me of some things I don't want to remember."

"You think this wasn't an accident?" he asked directly, relying on her expression to guess her thoughts.

She did not answer immediately, just looked at the broken wire that was still being kept by the technician as evidence. "I don't know," she said finally, her voice cautious. "But if it's true that it was pre-cut, then this wouldn't be the first time I've heard of equipment being tampered with during a major tournament."

Dam Viet Long came to Viet Khoi right after Kien Ba Xuyen was taken into the medical tent, his face still showing signs of worry. "I've been a trainer for more than twenty years, and I've never seen a standard leash break like that. These ropes are thoroughly tested and can withstand forces many times greater than the human body's weight."

"I think so too," Viet Khoi replied, his eyes still watching the group of people carrying Kien Ba Xuyen's stretcher away from the sand. "If it's true that there was interference, then this is no joke. Someone is intentionally endangering the athletes, not just the usual score cheating."

"What are you going to do?" Uncle Long asked, his eyes searching.

"I don't know yet," Viet Khoi admitted. "But I can't sit idly by and watch this happen without getting to the bottom of it. This is my hometown beach, the tournament I've been in all my career. If someone is sabotaging from the inside, I want to know who it is."

Uncle Long sighed, patted his shoulder, his voice deep and thoughtful. "Be careful, Khoi. I once witnessed a similar incident, back when I was playing at the same time as... well, it's the past, there's no need to bring it up again. Just remember, once someone is willing to endanger others to achieve their goal, they won't stop just because of an empty warning."

That unfinished sentence made Viet Khoi pause, intending to ask more, but Uncle Long quickly turned away, making an excuse that he had to go to the medical tent to check on Kien Ba Xuyen's condition. Viet Khoi stood looking at his shadow, feeling as if he had just touched something that he deliberately kept hidden, an old memory that he did not want to rekindle, but his intuition told him that memory could be closely related to what was happening right now.

That afternoon, the organizing committee convened an emergency meeting with all athletes and the technical team to inform them of the incident and reassure them that all safety equipment would be rechecked before the tournament continued. Lu Khac Bon personally spoke up, his voice calm and professional as always, affirming that this was just a rare incident, possibly due to a manufacturing error from the equipment supplier, and the organizers would clarify as soon as possible.

But Viet Khoi, sitting in the last row of the meeting, couldn't help but notice a small detail: when an athlete asked whether there was a possibility that this was an act of intentional sabotage, Lu Khac Bon answered a little too quickly, a little too decisively, dismissing that possibility almost immediately without even showing any consideration, while as the head of the organizing committee, he should have shown a cautious attitude, leaving open all possibilities until the conclusion. The investigation results were clear.

After the meeting, Viet Khoi privately met the technical staff who had inspected the broken wire in the morning and asked for more details. This person, after a moment of hesitation, lowered his voice and spoke softly to him. "Actually, this is not the first time this season there have been unusual signs. A few days ago, during a routine check, I also discovered another athlete's board had a small crack at the tail, not like natural wear and tear. I reported it to the top, but no one took any further action."

"Whose board is it?" Viet Khoi asked immediately, his heart beating faster.

The technician hesitated, looked around as if afraid of being overheard, then replied quietly. "Player number 07's game. Khue's."

Viet Khoi clenched his hand holding the towel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. If that's true, it means someone deliberately targeted both Kien Ba Xuyen and Lam Khue, two of the most in-form athletes in this year's tournament, in a sophisticated form of sabotage cleverly disguised to look like an accident or a common technical error. That is no longer an isolated incident, but a sign of a deliberate conspiracy, silently taking place right under the flashy shell of the tournament.

That night, he found Lam Khue and told him everything he had just learned. After listening, her face turned pale, her hands clasped together. "Was my game also tampered with? I had no idea."

"Luckily the technician discovered it in time before you used it," Viet Khoi said, his voice low and filled with worry. "But it means that someone is watching very closely the athletes who could potentially threaten the final result, and they don't hesitate to take real risks to achieve their goals."

Lam Khue looked out at the night sea, her distant eyes filled with worry. "If this is truly a deliberate plot, I'm afraid this is deeper than what either of us is thinking. I need to be more careful, and so should you, Viet Khoi. Someone out there doesn't want a fair result for this tournament, and both of us, whether we like it or not, have become their targets."

The night wind blew stronger, carrying with it the unusual cold of a distant storm forming offshore. Viet Khoi looked out at the darkness on the horizon, where the lights of a few basket boats in the distance flickered faintly, and couldn't help but think of the secretly cut piece of leash that was now lying silently in the technical team's evidence bag - a small trace, but enough to signal that the real danger was still lurking somewhere very close, just waiting for the opportunity to strike again.