Chapter 9 — The Invisible Employee Knows French

The investigation meeting room was as cold as ice, the air was so thick it made people suffocate. The CEO personally presided. Human resources director in charge of questioning. And I, like a "sinner awaiting judgment", sat across from them.

“Lam Van, about the errors in this document, do you have anything to explain?”

The human resources director's voice was emotionless and dry as if drawn from a prepared procedure sheet. I took a deep breath, resisting the emotions rising in my chest. Panicking solves nothing—it only makes me look even more like I'm hiding something. I raised my head, looked straight at them, my eyes calm and decisive:

“Yes, that punctuation error was my mistake.”

The frank admission made both of them momentarily stunned—it seemed they didn't expect me to admit my mistake so easily. But I continued, my voice clear, each word firm:

“But, I have three points to clarify.”

"First," I said, "this document was completed in the second week after I joined the company, at the request of the direct manager at that time, Ms. Vuong Ky. Time was tight, I only had exactly one hour to translate, while at the same time there were many other urgent matters."

I'm not blaming—I'm just telling the truth.

“Second—and most importantly—this denounced document is only an internal draft, has never been made public, and has not been sent to any partners.

Less than two hours after submitting, specifically at 4:05 p.m. that afternoon, I discovered the punctuation error and immediately edited and updated the complete version to the department's public folder. However, what was brought up to accuse me was the old draft, which I had clearly marked as 'CANCELLED'." Having said this, I took out the laptop from my bag and opened the screen in front of them. I retrieved the file modification history, clearly showing: • 2:10 pm – created file: “Company introduction (draft – canceled).doc” • 4:05 pm – created file: “Company introduction (final version).doc”

“Third,” I turned the screen towards them, my voice more emphatic:

“What makes me curious is—who would be so 'devoted', going through the draft from two months ago, deliberately ignoring the finished version placed right next to it, then choosing the right crucial moment of the project, anonymously sending a complaint straight to the CEO?”

I looked straight at the CEO, each sharp word seemed to pierce through the fog:

“Is this a mere 'personal error' report?

Or is it a serious act of sabotage, aimed at derailing the progress of cooperation with French headquarters? I think, the motive behind—is worth investigating.” I am no longer an employee who bows my head and admits mistakes. I proactively took the initiative, pushing the problem from a technical error to a serious internal sabotage plot. The human resources director's face suddenly changed color. Obviously, he didn't expect me to counterattack so sharply. The CEO's gaze also changed—sharper, more focused. He looked at me thoughtfully, his fingers lightly tapping on the table, the tapping rhythm was steady as if he was considering. At that moment—a light knock sounded on the door of the investigation room. Ly Uong walked in. He nodded to the CEO and said:

“Dear CEO, I came to testify for Lam Van.”

All eyes turned to him.

“As a technical employee, I have access to a system that records the entire internal file edit history.”

He opened the laptop and connected it to the device mat.

“The data clearly states: the two files as described by Lam Van, the creation time and editor completely match.

And—at 11:47 p.m. last night, someone logged in from Wang Qi's personal account, accessed and downloaded the very draft that had been marked 'destroyed'. And the complete file next to it—she never opened it.” Authentication data is clearly projected onto the white wall. Time, login account, download behavior—irrefutable. The room fell into absolute silence. The human resources director's forehead began to sweat. He certainly did not expect that a seemingly simple investigation would reveal a deliberate internal plot to harm and sabotage. I looked at the system log displayed on the wall, and felt a deep sense of gratitude. Ly Uong—you are not only an upright colleague, but also a silent, sharp, and uncompromising ally. He didn't mention Vuong Ky's name, but what he said permanently nailed her to the pole of shame. I turned to look at the CEO—who had been silent until now. Now, it's his turn to make a decision. How will he handle an investigation that he himself ordered to open?