Chapter 206
Lucinda stood in place, withdrew her hand, and waited until the sound of footsteps in the hallway faded. Then she opened her laptop and placed her fingers on the keyboard.
Last night, after finishing the master key task, she'd gone straight to bed. Today, she wanted to investigate what was inside that system—what was valuable enough to have someone scrambling in the middle of the night to hire someone to crack it.
When she clicked into yesterday's URL, the page had completely changed. A first-layer encrypted firewall popped up.
She raised a brow, unimpressed, and typed three lines of commands, bypassing the identity verification node.
Second layer. She mirrored the entire data flow of the anti-intrusion monitoring module in a loop, making the system think everything was normal.
Third layer. The permission verification node sent three confirmation requests to the root server within four seconds.
She intercepted each one with precision, rewrote the return values, and let them through.
Lines of code scrolled down the screen. Her fingers flew across the keyboard without pause.
Twenty-four minutes later, a green prompt appeared on the screen: [Permission modification successful.]
She followed the trail and quickly pieced together the full picture.
This was an industrial-grade core system module worth over ten billion dollars.
A competitor had struck first, illegally registering variant patents before the system launched. The profits were massive.
With this master key, they could infiltrate the rival's internal system, obtain evidence of their malicious registrations, and force them to return everything they'd stolen—with interest.
No wonder the payout had been so generous.
Fifty million to buy a way out for a ten-billion-dollar project? A steal by any measure.
She smiled faintly. Her fingers returned to the keyboard. As she exited the system, she left something behind in the backend.
A preliminary system defense model, targeting the vulnerabilities she'd just exploited. Layer by layer, she reinforced them, rebuilding a tighter, more robust defense framework.
It would serve them well for a long time.
She stretched, exited the page, leaned back against the headboard, and opened her mobile banking app. She transferred the fifty million that had just arrived.
The recipient note read only: [Project Two. Funding.]
Less than ten seconds after the message went out, a reply came: [Received.]
She set her phone on the nightstand and leaned back into the pillows.
Sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows fell across her body, warm and soothing. Drowsiness finally washed over her completely.
Meanwhile, in the suite next door.
Reginald sat on the sofa, his gaze fixed on the laptop in front of him.
His assistant stood nearby, unable to suppress his excitement. "Mr. Lancaster, this RuinCipher—he cracked the master key our team had been stuck on for three months in just one night. The tech department checked it three times. They said there aren't more than three people in the country who could pull this off."
Reginald picked up his water glass and took a sip without responding.
"Mr. Lancaster, should we try to recruit him?" The assistant stepped forward half a step. "We can negotiate salary. Stock options too. A hacker of this caliber—if a competitor gets to him first..."
"We'll see." Reginald closed the laptop. "If he took this job, it means he needs money right now. For now, if money can solve the problem, there's no need to rush into building rapport."
He set down the glass, checked the time, and stood, pulling open the door to the suite.
He stopped in front of the neighboring door and knocked twice.
No response.
He knocked again. Still nothing.
He raised a brow, swiped the door open, and stepped inside. Cool air from the air conditioning washed over him.
Lucinda lay curled on her side on the large bed, facing the window, breathing slow and even. She was clearly sound asleep.
Sunlight spilled in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling across the exposed stretch of her forearm.
Reginald walked in quietly, pulled the thin blanket that had slipped to the edge of the bed back up, and covered her shoulders.
He stayed bent over, watching her for a long moment.
When she was asleep, the cool aloofness on her face melted away entirely. She looked soft, almost fragile—completely different from when she was awake.
He couldn't help himself. He reached out with one fingertip and brushed the corner of her brow, feather-light. Then he withdrew his hand and straightened.
His gaze fell, almost by accident, on the open laptop sitting on the nightstand.
The screen was still lit, the backend page paused on "RuinCipher's" operation log.
Timestamps, execution paths, permission nodes—all neatly lined up. The last entry was marked in green: [Completed.]
Reginald's gaze locked onto that code name instantly.
He stared for three seconds. Then the corner of his mouth curved.
He didn't look any further. He simply closed the laptop gently and placed it back where it had been.
Then he bent down again, smoothed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, and pressed his lips to her temple.
Then lower, half an inch, to her lips.
"My girl," he murmured, voice barely audible. "So brilliant."
Lucinda's lashes fluttered. She turned over, burying her face in the pillow.
Reginald straightened, looked at her one last time, then turned and walked back to the living room.
He sat down on the sofa, reopened his laptop, and typed a command into the Dungeon Hire publisher page.
Task Content: [Have fun.]
Compensation: [Two hundred million.]
Recipient: [RuinCipher.]
He hit publish, leaned back into the sofa, and watched the "Published" notification pop up on the screen. The smile in his eyes never faded.
At five o'clock, Lucinda woke up.
She stared at the ceiling for two seconds, then turned her head and noticed a glass of water on the nightstand that hadn't been there before.
She sat up, stretched, and picked up her phone. The moment she opened the bank notification, her finger froze.
There were two hundred million in her account?
She blinked, then opened the transfer record. The note read only: [Have fun.]
Her first reaction was to frown.
She exited the banking app and opened Dungeon Hire, refreshing the page. Sure enough, the new task was pinned at the top.
Compensation: [Two hundred million.]
Status: [Completed.]
Issuer: [Mr. L.]
She leaned back against the headboard, set her phone on her knees, and stared at that line for a long time.
Mr. L.
Fifty million last night. Two hundred million this time.
Same person. Same recipient. Same encrypted channel.
Someone with this kind of financial power, access, and the ability to pinpoint her location so precisely...
In the entire country, there was only one.
Reginald Lancaster.
She pulled up Reginald's contact and stared at it for several seconds.
In the end, she set the phone back down without calling.
She threw off the covers, got out of bed, and walked into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face.
In the mirror, her hair was slightly messy from sleep, her eyes still tinged with the flush of just waking. But her gaze was clear.
She didn't like owing anyone.
Even if it was from him. Especially if it was from him.
He could give. But she couldn't just take.
She should have only received fifty million. Now he'd given her two hundred million.
She couldn't just accept that.
She returned to the bedroom, reopened her laptop, and created a blank document.
The cursor blinked in the upper left corner. She began typing.
A new system's initial architecture. From underlying logic to functional modules. From protocol standards to interface definitions. Every step laid out cleanly and precisely.
She planned to build this and give it to him as repayment for that two hundred million.
The room fell silent except for the sound of her fingers on the keyboard.
What she didn't know was that outside in the hallway, Reginald stood leaning against the wall, holding two cups of coffee, watching her through the half-open door.
He saw the unfinished architecture code on her screen. Saw her profile. Saw the tiny, almost imperceptible way she bit her lip when she was thinking.
He stood there for a long time. Then he smiled.
He didn't push the door open. He turned and walked back.
The coffee was still warm. There was no rush.
When she finished what she was working on, he had all the time in the world to wait for her.