Labyrinth - Tay Ninh Online Newspaper

The town of N… had been established for about a few years when a land speculation frenzy erupted. Back then, gold was extremely scarce. Even for an average family, finding just five cents worth of gold as a dowry for their daughter was a daunting task. Yet, a meter of land along the roadside skyrocketed in price every week. From five cents to one tael, then two or three taels, people still scrambled to buy it. Some cunning "locals" seized the opportunity, acting as middlemen, deceiving both buyers and sellers. Leading the pack was Heng the Crocodile, the owner of the pork porridge stall at the entrance of alley N. He rose to become a millionaire from this chaotic business. In the eyes of the people in this remote, isolated area, anyone with a few taels of gold in their possession was considered incredibly wealthy.

Hèng Crocodile Porridge Restaurant is located at a corner intersection, the crossroads of two roads leading to the province, the district, and the surrounding villages. Every day, it's packed with customers filling a dozen tables. One morning, two strangers appeared. They were both dressed in jeans, both wearing dark sunglasses with lenses the size of beer glasses covering half their faces, and both sporting a pair of terrifying black rubber-soled boots.

That morning, the diners all fell silent, staring in amazement as they swaggered down from a bright red Thai-made Dream motorcycle. At first glance, they looked like they were cast from the same mold. But upon closer observation, some were tall, some were short. The taller one had a tuft of long, reddish-brown hair reaching his neck, growing from under his right jaw like a goat's beard (let's call him "Goat's Beard").

The short man had a birthmark resembling a lizard clinging to all four legs near his right ear (we'll just call him "The Lizard" for easy remembrance). Two pairs of huge shoes clattered into the shop, but instead of finding a seat, they stood intently watching the owner, who was bent over a chopping board piled high with offal.

He was shirtless, a greasy towel draped over one shoulder, revealing a ferocious, indigo-blue crocodile head tattoo with its gaping, toothy snout exposed on the other. Looking pleased to have found the partner he'd been waiting for, the Lizard, acting like a big brother, gestured towards the innkeeper and asked loudly:

- Are you planning to sell this shop, sir?

The crocodile-like man, without even looking up, continued scooping offal into the bowls of porridge, and retorted sharply:

- Where did you get this information, boss?

- I was just asking in jest. Would it be an honor to invite you, sir, for a few drinks as a token of our friendship?

Leaving his wife and children toiling away serving customers, Heng, the owner of the restaurant, hastily wiped his hands on a dirty towel and slowly approached the table of the two strangers. They shook hands enthusiastically like old friends reuniting. After several rounds and gulping down several full glasses of wine, it's unclear what they discussed, but all that could be heard was a chorus of "Okay, okay" followed by loud handshakes. From that day on, an alliance of three con artists quickly formed. This alliance worked tirelessly for a long time, actively seeking to buy up advantageous plots of land from mostly naive owners – those with large plots of land but empty pockets. Heng, the crocodile, had been living there for several years, familiar with the area, and with the advantage of his restaurant being frequented daily by people of all kinds, he inadvertently compiled a long list of landowners who were more desperate for money than water. From that early morning, he would wander around, meticulously scouting the area, his mind already firmly grasping several lucrative plots of land, as solid as a thick, viscous bowl of blood pudding, easily carried home without a single drop. His first "shot" to open the deal and pocket a gold bar was the clandestine purchase of ten meters of land that Mrs. Bay had just divided for her third daughter and her husband. After that, he bought the land of her second daughter's child, and then many other plots of land from various people who wanted to sell but couldn't find buyers. No one knew that this three-way alliance was just a group of middlemen. The real buyers were the owners of sugar mills, flour processing plants, and logging operations in other localities. Ten years ago, this place was a new economic zone. Now it has been upgraded to a town, the center of a promising district with a thriving economy. Many business owners flocked here seeking opportunities. Land suddenly turned into gold. But in the hands of the landowners, it was just a small lump of money. That lucrative difference ended up in the pockets of the Heng crocodile gang. With gold and plenty of money, the three pimps bought three flashy gold chains, as thick as chopsticks, dangling from their necks down to their bulging bellies. With money in hand, they constantly upgraded their cars, revving their engines loudly every afternoon as they sped off to hunt for land and prey in every nook and cranny. At night, if they weren't carousing and debauching all night in dimly lit bars, they were loitering at Hèng's shop, drinking and shouting until late. Afterward, Hèng and her daughter had to wrinkle their noses cleaning up the filthy dishes and foul-smelling vomit all over the floor. Poor Hèng's daughter, in her adolescence, was growing rapidly, her clothes too short, a real eyesore for the lecherous old men in the house. Each time Hèng caught their animalistic gazes fixed on her daughter's exposed skin, she was terrified. Night after night, the frail mother could only lie there, tightly embracing her daughter, like a mother hen spreading her wings to shield her chick from hungry hawks.

One afternoon, an opportunity to satisfy the animalistic desires of one of the three creatures arose. Crocodile Heng and Lizard Heng went hunting, leaving Goat Beard alone at home, yawning on a hammock behind the house near the makeshift bathing hut, which was only haphazardly covered with coconut fiber mats. With his eyes closed, Goat Beard suddenly heard the sound of rushing water. He craned his neck and trembled as he saw half of the homeowner's stepdaughter's head, its glossy black hair glistening, peeking out from behind the mat. He quickly crept closer, peeking through the leaves, and immediately his whole body trembled as his beastly eyes caught sight of the exposed, plump, rosy-white flesh of the adolescent girl being doused with buckets of clear water trickling from her long, flowing hair that covered half her chest and down to her full belly. Thinking his moment of triumph had arrived, he rushed into the tent, hastily devouring the young girl's wet, youthful body, intending to ruin her life. Unexpectedly, the girl let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed far into the street. Immediately, her mother appeared, leaving the Goat-Bearded Man with no time to escape. The consequences were so horrific that for over a decade afterward, whenever the poor child suddenly saw a man in jeans, boots, and sunglasses, she would turn pale with fear, her legs trembling, and her hands clasped tightly together to cover her chest. If she didn't regain her composure and release them, even breaking her arms wouldn't free them.

After that depraved act, fearing that Heng the Crocodile's wife and children would report him to the police, he didn't dare go near the pork offal porridge shop again. But he still lingered like a ghost somewhere in the town. Less than a month later, for some unknown reason, he started an affair with Mrs. Bay's eldest daughter, brought her and her children to live with him as husband and wife, and opened the "Purple Afternoon" coffee shop about a kilometer from Heng the Crocodile's pork offal porridge shop. The Purple Afternoon became increasingly lively and bustling as the night progressed. Its reputation spread far and wide, attracting even the most notorious partygoers from the town and district to flock there.

The three-way alliance was now down to two. The demand for land had subsided, and Heng the Crocodile and The Lizard were moving on to bigger deals, making money faster, even beyond the border. Only later, when the truth came out, did his wife and children find out they were gambling at casinos in Cambodia. Lately, they've been away from home for weeks at a time. Each time they returned, Heng would throw his bulging backpack full of banknotes onto the bed, then the two of them would burst out laughing, counting and dividing the money. Having made money so easily, Heng no longer cared about the pork porridge stall, leaving his wife and stepdaughter, still reeling from the recent shock, to deal with however they pleased. Heng's wife probably vaguely sensed the many uncertainties in her husband's business dealings, so one day she timidly spoke to him:

- I just feel uneasy, you keep hanging out with them all the time, I'm afraid that...

Before she could finish speaking, her husband slapped her across the face with all his might, accompanied by a snarling curse she would remember for the rest of her life:

- You're still hoping to earn those rusty coins now? If you can't sell them, just forget about it. I can easily support you and your mother. If you're smart, keep your mouth shut.

Without bothering to see how his wife would react, he angrily grabbed his money bag and stormed off.

She never imagined that it would be the last slap and insult she had endured so many times during her fifteen years as his wife. Just one week later, one morning she overheard customers gossiping about the lizard who had just had one arm severed while fleeing from a gang near the border, and that same afternoon she received the terrible news: she had to go to a province in the Mekong Delta to retrieve her husband's body. Just two days before, when she saw her husband, his face pale and bloodless, hiding in the room, glancing around nervously at the slightest sound, showing extreme fear and panic, she had suspected something but didn't dare ask. That night, late into the night, he gently whispered to her:

- I'll probably be away on this trip for a long time, and I have no money left. Luckily, I managed to buy this house. Let's try to keep it as a place to do business and support our children. If anyone threatens us, we can report it to the police and ask for their protection.

Having said that, he quickly slipped out into the shadows, his footsteps as quiet as a cat's. Little did she know his life would end so tragically. Upon arriving at a remote inn in the far west, she was informed by the police that her husband had committed suicide by hanging himself two days earlier. Just as she finished arranging her husband's funeral, late one night she faced a horrifying truth when a group of fierce strangers secretly broke into her house. They told her that Heng the Crocodile and Lizard had lost a large sum of money gambling and owed their boss dozens of gold bars. Lizard had lost an arm while trying to escape, and Heng the Crocodile, knowing he couldn't escape, had taken his own life. They were there to inform her that their boss had ordered her to pay up all the money her husband owed. If she refused, they would take her child and sell its organs in Thailand and Malaysia, where there was always a demand. They warned her to take the two men as a warning if she reported them to the police.

The next morning, she rushed to find Goat Beard to see if he knew anything more, only to be stunned to find that the Purple Evening bar had been shut down by the authorities for organizing prostitution. Goat Beard's common-law wife was being held in custody in the district, while he had managed to escape, only God knew where he was.

VTK

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