Chapter 962:
The Minister of Justice bellowed, “Hire them immediately. Post a bounty on the dark web and enlist the most elite hackers. Budget is no object. Forty-eight hours—get that cursed video erased from every official channel.”
The directive was carried out without delay.
An anonymous bounty appeared on the dark web almost instantly.
Drawn by the enormous reward, a renowned hacker known only as “Phantom” quickly accepted the mission.
The hirer added, “Phantom is legendary for invisible attack vectors and a spotless record. Rumor has it he possesses several unpublished exploits. He ranks second on the dark web and is our best bet for resolving this efficiently.”
News of the bounty rippled through the dark web, stirring interest and speculation.
A young man slouched before his monitor, pale from endless hours without sunlight or proper meals. He munched on donuts as he forwarded the notice to Brad. “They’re really going all out. Using national funds—blowing a hundred million just to hire the perennial runner-up hacker to delete a video. They must be under immense pressure.”
Brad leaned against the window, phone in hand, his gaze fixed on the apartment across the street. Through the half-drawn curtain, he could see Rylie at her desk, surrounded by monitors, the faint glow of code flickering across her focused face.
“They can’t pull the video?” he asked evenly.
Phil’s voice came through the receiver. “Yeah. I checked. The forum’s layered with some serious security—not your usual encryption. Definitely pro-level. Did you bring in another hacker?”
Brad’s eyes never left the window. His tone softened, low and certain. “She’s my girl.”
There was no one else he trusted for precision like hers. No one who could stay calm under pressure, always outpacing expectations.
ɢ𝓪𝓵𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓼.c𝓸m hosts the latest
Phil caught on and gave a short laugh. “Right. Rylie. I almost forgot—her skills are no joke. But if the guy behind this is really who we think, even she might be in for a fight. He’s not someone you outmatch easily.”
Brad’s jaw tightened slightly. “All the more reason for you to back her up,” he said. “Go help her.”
Phil inclined his head. “No problem.”
In Rylie’s study, the glow from multiple monitors cast shifting colors across the room. One screen displayed the forum’s backend traffic and access logs streaming in real time—an endless cascade of numbers and code flowing like a living river. Rylie’s slender fingers moved with remarkable speed over the keyboard. She had anticipated the possibility of external support for her opponent, so her defense system was meticulously layered: deceptive code, hidden traps, and conditional triggers designed to mislead and ensnare any intruder who dug too deep.
After a long, tense interval, a barely perceptible anomaly appeared in the data on one screen, like a thin wisp of smoke slipping through the outer barrier of the firewall.
“They’re here,” Rylie murmured, a faint, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Rather than striking immediately, she allowed the apparent vulnerability of a dormant access point to remain—a calculated invitation for the intruder to engage, a patient predator luring prey closer.
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