[...a name that turned out to belong to the deadliest cybersecurity entity in the underground world: Vektor.]
Elara didn't waste a single millisecond catching her breath. With a rough, desperate motion, she yanked the fiber-optic router cable out of her bedroom wall, shattering the plastic socket into pieces.
The soft hum of the electronic devices in her room died instantly. The blood-red holographic screen on her retina flickered wildly before finally dimming and returning to its passive blue color.
Elara slid down onto the Persian carpet, her back resting against the edge of the bed. Her breathing came fast and ragged, her chest heaving as cold sweat soaked her nightgown. The pain in her temple throbbed violently, as if her brain had just been forced to run a marathon beyond its biological limits.
"System..." Elara whispered hoarsely, wiping away a drop of blood that had suddenly begun trickling from one nostril. It was clear proof that this quantum computing came at a steep physical cost. "Tracking status?"
[Safe Mode activated. Hard network disconnection completed at 99.8%. Tracking endpoint severed at a public network node four kilometers from the Sterling residence. The Host's physical identity and location are secure.]
Elara exhaled a long, shaky breath. She was safe. At least for tonight.
But what she had just discovered changed the entire map of the game. Vektor was no ordinary cybersecurity firm. In her past life, Elara had known that Vektor was a group of digital mercenaries who accepted only contracts worth billions of dollars. The fact that her uncle, Arthur Sterling, had used Vektor's services to conceal the flow of funds through his charitable foundation proved one thing: Arthur was building a dark-money empire far more massive than mere tax evasion.
If Arthur's digital trail was guarded by Vektor, it would be impossible for Elara to hack the evidence without burning out her own brain. That was why the physical data chip going up for auction at Obsidian Lounge tomorrow night was the only key she had left to destroy her uncle. The chip contained raw evidence—a disconnected hard drive—not linked to the internet and therefore beyond Vektor's protection.
Elara had to get that chip. No matter the cost.
The next morning, the Sterling family dining room felt emptier. Clara and her stepmother were shopping downtown, while Adrian had left for the office at the crack of dawn, apparently far too eager to begin his day as the "new ruler" of Helena's shares in trust.
At the end of the long table, only Elara and her father, William Sterling, remained.
William sat reading his news tablet, a cup of black coffee steaming beside him. The middle-aged man's face looked tired. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and stress lines stood out clearly across his forehead.
Looking at her father, Elara's chest tightened beneath a wave of raw emotion. In her first life, William Sterling had died of a heart attack brought on by the brutal bankruptcy caused by Adrian and Arthur's schemes. He had worked hard his entire life to build Sterling Corporation, only for his kindness to be exploited by the snakes he had raised under his own roof.
"Dad," Elara called softly, breaking the silence.
William turned, set down his tablet, and smiled warmly. "Yes, sweetheart? Are you feeling better today? Adrian said you had a headache yesterday while reading the documents for your mother's trust."
"I'm much better," Elara replied, forcing a convincing smile. "I even signed the documents and sent them to Adrian yesterday afternoon. He said he'd handle the rest so Uncle Arthur couldn't touch Mom's shares."
Relief crossed William's face. The man let out a long sigh. "Thank goodness. I knew I could rely on Adrian. That young man is smart, loyal, and he truly loves you, Elara. With the board putting so much pressure on us right now, knowing that your future and your mother's are safe in Adrian's hands is the only thing that lets me sleep peacefully."
Elara lowered her gaze to the porcelain plate, hiding the cold glint that flashed through her eyes. If only Dad knew that the man he called smart and loyal was plotting our destruction, Elara thought bitterly. But she couldn't say anything yet. Revealing the truth without evidence would only make her father think she was paranoid.
"Of course, Dad. Adrian will receive a very fitting reward for all his 'help,'" Elara said sweetly, her words carrying a double meaning only she understood.
After breakfast, Elara returned to her room and locked the door. The time she had left was running out. The auction at Obsidian Lounge would take place tomorrow night, and to sit at the auction table with the underground world's elite, a false identity alone wouldn't be enough. She needed liquidity. A massive amount of untraceable cash.
Elara powered on her laptop, this time using the multilayered encrypted cellular network she had just built to stay off Vektor's radar.
"System," Elara ordered sharply. "We need fresh funds for tomorrow's auction. Access the global stock market. Activate the High-Frequency Trading (HFT) protocol. I don't want to hack a bank or steal money directly. Use your predictive algorithms to exploit the microseconds of fluctuation in the stocks of companies affiliated with Uncle Arthur."
This was the most brilliant form of legal robbery. High-Frequency Trading was automated stock trading executed in nanoseconds. While Wall Street's best brokers needed several seconds to read market trends, the System in Elara's eye could see price movements a fraction of a millisecond before they were recorded on the exchange's servers.
[Beginning micro-market analysis... Identifying 4,500 arbitrage opportunities in Sterling Corp. affiliated stocks. Injecting initial capital from the Host's personal savings: $200,000...]
Elara stared at her laptop screen, now filled with wildly moving stock charts. Green numbers appeared at lightning speed.
Buy. Sell. Buy. Sell.
Each transaction generated only a few cents in profit, but when those transactions were carried out hundreds of thousands of times per second with one-hundred-percent accuracy, those pennies piled up into an ocean of money.
One hour passed. The balance in the Vanguard Trust account based in the British Virgin Islands surged to two million dollars.
Three hours passed. The figure broke through seven million dollars. The small stocks being exploited by Elara's System slowly began to plummet, with no financial analyst on earth able to explain why.
Sweat dampened Elara's forehead again. Nausea from mental exhaustion slammed into her stomach, but she refused to stop. She kept pushing her brain to its limits, letting the machine squeeze the stock market like a ravenous digital parasite.
[HFT protocol terminated to protect the Host's visual cortex stability. Total net liquidity accumulated: $15,400,000. Funds ready for use with no audit trail.]
Elara dropped her head onto the pillow, panting but grinning with satisfaction. Fifteen million dollars in less than six hours. That money was more than enough to buy her a VIP seat and bargaining power at tomorrow night's auction.
Friday afternoon arrived beneath overcast skies hanging above Metropolis. Elara stood before her wardrobe, choosing an elegant black evening gown paired with a silk mesh veil—the perfect disguise to hide her youthful face when she attended Obsidian Lounge.
Suddenly, a soft knock sounded at her bedroom door.
"Miss Elara?" called Bi Inah, the middle-aged head housekeeper of the family.
Elara quickly shut off her laptop screen and smoothed her dress. "Come in, Bi."
Bi Inah opened the door with a confused expression. In her hands was a silver tray. Resting on it was a pitch-black envelope made of luxurious matte material, with no stamp, no sender's name, and sealed with dark red wax bearing a one-eyed symbol.
"Sorry to bother you, Miss. A special courier left this at the front guard post. He said it was extremely urgent and meant for you personally," Bi Inah explained.
Elara frowned. "Who was the courier?"
"The guard said the courier was wearing a full-face helmet and left immediately after handing over the envelope, Miss."
Elara's heart beat one count faster. No one sent physical letters in this digital age unless the letter couldn't be hacked. She took the black envelope. The paper felt heavy and cold.
"Thank you, Bi Inah. Leave me alone for a moment."
As soon as the housekeeper left, Elara broke the wax seal. Inside was a gold-edged invitation card. It was an official physical invitation from Obsidian Lounge. But that wasn't what made Elara's breath freeze.
On the back of the printed invitation card was a message written in beautiful calligraphy with silver ink—a message that pierced the false sense of security Elara had felt since morning.
We look forward to welcoming the representative of Vanguard Trust tomorrow night. However, know that the data chip you seek has attracted the attention of [