Chapter 1 — Ten Tickets and Blood Debt

Van counted all ten tickets before putting them in a plastic bag.

Nine people in the shipyard contributed twenty thousand each. The tenth person was Hau, the foreman, who said he would pay later. Van wrote down each person's name in the book, marked the signature and took a photo of the serial number.

“If you win, divide equally,” Hau laughed.

Van looked at the oily hands of her father, who used to repair welding machines in the corner of the workshop. He told her not to believe verbal promises. But everyone in the factory has just been announced to be dissolved; A little luck is the only thing they can afford.

That night, Van brought the ticket home. Her father sat fixing the radio, while her younger brother Phuc stood by the window talking to a man in a raincoat.

"Who is that?" Van asked.

Phuc closed. "Mr. Bach's people. Dad owes money."

Father Van snapped: "It has nothing to do with you."

The phone broadcasts the results. The special prize is a sequence of numbers that matches one of ten tickets.

Van checked the photo again. Note number 07 won twenty-seven billion.

No one in the factory had time to rejoice. Hau called ahead, told Van to keep the ticket safe and have a meeting tomorrow morning. At midnight, the camera in front of the house recorded a person wearing a hat taking the mailbox. In the morning, the ticket bag was still there, but number 07 was gone.

Phuc looked at her, his face pale. “I won't take it.”

Father Van was silent for too long.

Van opened the contribution book. Her father's signature is next to the number 07, but the ink is newer than the other lines.

Outside the alley, a truck stopped. Bach's people walked down, carrying a copy of the loan document.

“He has to pay today,” the man said. “If not, this house belongs to us.”

Van looked at the ten lines of names in the book, then looked at the empty space where ticket number 07 used to be.

Someone took the money before the money became the prize.

Van pulled Phuc into the kitchen and forced him to recount his meeting with Bach. Phuc said his people knew the exact location of the ticket pocket, even knowing which compartment number 07 was in. Only people in the factory or people who have seen the photo of the contribution book will know.

Her father stood outside the door, listening to everything. He admitted that he gave the photo of the book to Hau to ask for a debt extension. Hau said he would help, but did not say that Bach had hired someone to monitor their house.

“Do you think I will win?” Van asked.

He looked at the radio. “I think with just one stroke of luck, you won't have to work for people like Hau.”

Van wanted to get angry, but saw her father's hand shaking. He lost his job, lost his health and almost lost faith in his son. She took the book, went through each signature, and realized that everyone who contributed money had a habit: everyone used different colored pens, except for line number 07.

That line was written with Hau's pen.

Van called nine workers, asking each to send a photo of their ID and the time they gave the money. Some people said Hau collected more, some said he signed a blank paper because he couldn't read the small letters.

A worker named Tam did not answer. His house closed, his motorbike disappeared. Van went to the factory to look and found Tam's locker intact, with the smell of gasoline inside.

On the cabinet wall, someone scratched a number: **07-23**.

Van recorded it, then heard footsteps in the hallway. One person turned away and walked towards the gate, leaving behind an oily glove.

She realized that that type of oil was only used in Hau's engine room.