Songint Headquarters — 10:03 AM
"Hey! Our meeting's about to start. My boss will kill me if I'm late. Let's go!"
"Yeah, same," muttered the other employee, hurrying across the wide, slick plaza.
SONGint Headquarters towered over them—glass and steel, glowing with massive neon logos. Digital billboards wrapped the facade, cycling through slick corporate ads:
SONGint — Leaders in Cyber Defense and Innovation. Trusted. Secure. Entertainment. Gaming.
A cluster of staff lingered under the bright entry canopy, checking their watches, straightening uniforms.
"Isn't that Miss Jing over there?" one whispered, nodding at a lone figure waiting by the curb.
"What's she doing outside at this hour?"
"Didn't you heard? That chairman Song's daughter arrive yesterday from abroad. She must be waiting for her."
Wait?.. the chairman's daughter?
Yup, Miss Frances Song.
I heard many things about her, isn't she the one that first developed S-dev?
Correct, shes the one that first developed it. One of the best system defence application at the age of 14, and after a successful lunch months after she left the company to study abroad.
Wow! S-dev is still a big company till this day, and at the age of 14? she must be a born genius.
A black car stops and a woman got out.
Look! That must be her. She is a beauty! said the girl with astonishment!
Frances Song, 19yrs old the heir of Satan Song, chairman of Songint.
"Her presence is unbelievable! "She walked with quiet confidence, snow-white skin glowing under the light. Her black wolfcut framed a small, beautiful face, A aura cool blend of elegance and edge."
Murmured by the two ladies as they was speechless looking at her.
Snap it! Lets get out in here, we were already late for work, "Omg! I completely forgot. Lets go now!
….…
Welcome back Frances, Miss Mia Jing said.
[Mia Jing, Executive assistant of the Chairman]
Wheres my father? Does he really hates me that much? after a long time not seeing each other he didn't even care to greet me? And only sent his mare assistant? How disappointing. Francis sarcastically replied.
"Your father is having his annual check-up, he'll be here soon don't worry, And didn't you forgot that we waited for almost 2hrs at dinner yesterday, we even got the whole restaurant rented but just to ended up to waste because you said your not coming anymore.
"Now I wonder where did you go that night."
As Ms. Jing asked, her tone subtly shifted. Frances's face changed too, recalling what had happened.
…...
"Just park over here. Don't follow me, I'm just going to buy something," Frances had told her driver.
But on her way back, heavy rain suddenly started pouring. Her phone had died, and she had no choice but to run into the nearest shop—where she had a run-in with some arrogant man.
Thinking about it now made her scowl.
" that stupid guy pissed me off," she muttered under herb breath.
"What was that?" Ms. Jing asked, barely catching her words.
"Nothing," Frances said with a smirk. And replied with striking gaze ". Should we go in now?"
"You go first. I think your father is almost done with his checkup—I need to pick him up first. Just follow my assistant; she'll guide you."
"No need," Frances said as she moved toward the main door. "I know this place well… after all, it's mine."
Miss Jing stared at her for a moment before quickly looking away. At the entrance, a familiar assistant waited.
"Hello, Miss Song. Welcome back… do you remember me?"
"Of course, Sia. It's good to see you again. The company looks very different from what I remembered four years ago."
"Yes, it's been renovated for expansion," Sia replied.
"I see. The company is running well, then. But let's cut to the chase—let's head to the Cybersecurity Headquarters . I heard there's a problem there."
As they approached, red and blue lights suddenly flickered across the department. A buzzing alarm sounded, and a flood of technicians rushed past.
Frances and Sia saw the commotion and hurried toward it. As they entered, the room was a whirlwind of panic—techs darted back and forth, dozens of screens flickered erratically, and the rapid clicking of keyboards echoed off the walls.
The chaos struck a nerve with Frances. Without hesitation, she raised her voice, sharp and commanding:
"SILENCE!"
Instantly, the room froze. Every head turned toward her.
"What on earth is going on here?" Frances muttered, scanning the scene. "It looks like a carnival."
Sia stepped forward quickly. "Everyone, this is Miss Frances Song, the chairman's daughter."
The name alone sent a ripple through the crowd.
"Mm… Ms. Frances Song? The tech genius of Country P?"
The techs scrambled to compose themselves, bowing slightly in respect.
"So, what exactly is happening here?" Frances asked bluntly.
A senior tech stepped forward, clearing his throat. "There's a new computer virus. It infected a major financial company, forcing it to shut down temporarily. Within an hour, the infection caused widespread concern across the industry about cybersecurity vulnerabilities."
Frances blinked in disbelief. "A virus—just one virus—brought a multi-billion-dollar cyber defense company to its knees? Does that even make sense?" Her voice rose with incredulity.
"With all due respect, ma'am…" the tech began, but before he could continue, a man in a sharp blue suit forced his way through the lobby, his voice booming:
"Chairman Song! Chairman Song!"
It was Robert Jing, CEO of Jing Financial Institute. His company, ground zero for the attack, was suffering the worst of the chaos.
Many assistants tried to stop him, but he pushed past them, insisting on speaking directly with the chairman.
Frances momentarily left the cyber defense headquarters, her stride confident and purposeful, heading toward the anxious CEO Jing.
As they met in the hallway, she spoke first.
"CEO Jing, what seems to be the problem?" Frances asked, her tone measured but firm.
Robert Jing gave her a skeptical glance. "And you are?"
"It's me—Frances Song, the chairman's daughter. It's been a while," she replied.
At the mention of her name, Jing's face brightened. "Y-you're the tech prodigy who created S-Dev! What a surprise to see you again. My company is in real trouble—I need to speak with your father immediately."
"Take it easy, Mr. Jing," Frances said calmly. "I'm sure we can handle this, but my father isn't here at the moment. Why don't we wait for him inside?"
A few moments later, Chairman Song arrived. Once he and Mr. Jing began their discussion, Frances quietly returned to the cyber defense headquarters.
There , she finally grasped the full scale of the virus's damage. It was a sophisticated, aggressive malware—much tougher to contain than she initially thought.
After assessing the situation, Frances returned to the chairman's office to provide Mr. Jing with a detailed explanation of the virus and the steps needed to fix it
Frances stood in front of Chairman Song and CEO Jing without a hint of hesitation, her voice steady and controlled.
"The infection is identified as the CROWN Virus—Cascade Replication Over Wide Networks," she said evenly, her tone precise and unshaken.
"It's a self-spreading exfiltration worm. Once it enters a single machine, it immediately replicates itself through every internal contact your company has—emails, shared drives, messaging platforms, even idle devices on the same network. One infected unit can compromise the entire building in minutes."
She folded her arms, expression unreadable.
She paused for a moment, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make them squirm. Then she continued,
"It won't crash your systems. It's smarter than that. It quietly duplicates every file on every device it touches—contracts, financial reports, internal databases, even deleted fragments—and sends everything to a hidden server outside our reach. No alerts. No slowdown. Nothing." Her eyes met theirs, calm and sharp.
"When it's done, it erases its own footprints. No logs. No code residue. No forensic trail. So yes—someone out there already has whatever was stolen."
Those words only made CEO Jing's anxiety spike.
Frances took a breath, her gaze fixed on the display in front of them.
"This isn't a simple virus," she continued, her voice low and unwavering. "And it isn't something we can scrub out with a standard cleanup protocol.
Whoever wrote this coded it in a highly unorthodox manner. It adapts, it hides, and every part of it is designed to punish direct interference. but If we try to remove it the conventional way, you'll bleed resources, and even if we succeed, the creator can simply release a new variant. The cycle doesn't end."
"And besides The programmer of the virus already anticipated our actions so we need a plan to dispose this."
Chairman Song narrowed his eyes. "So what do you think, Frances?"
Frances didn't hesitate. "Well… we can't win this by playing defensively," she replied. "If we chase the virus, we lose money, time, and control. But if we change the battlefield, we force the creator to expose himself."
CEO Jing, whose company had taken the hardest hit, leaned forward. "And what exactly your point?"
Frances met his gaze, calm and absolute. "We use the hackers' forum. We post the virus publicly, offer a large reward, and turn it into a challenge. Anyone who wants the bounty will attempt to solve it… including the creator himself." Her tone sharpened.
"He won't resist. its simple only the creator can solve this riddle himself! He cant just sit back and let someone else benefit from his work, for sure he will make his move and get the reward into his own hands—and in doing so, he'll reveal his presence."
Chairman Song's expression shifted, realizing the strategy. Frances finished with quiet certainty.
"We make them solve their own virus. And when the creator enters the competition… we'll be waiting. Catching two birds with one stone."
CEO Jing's eyes lit up the moment Frances finished. With a short, satisfied clap, he leaned back in his chair. "Brilliant. With Frances back, there's nothing to worry about." His tone carried confidence, almost relief, as if the crisis had already lost half its weight.
Frances didn't react to the praise. She simply shifted her attention back to the screen.
Chairman Song watched her with a softer expression, pride flickering behind his stern eyes. "It's been a while," he said quietly. "Your mind is still as sharp as before." He paused, almost hesitant. "Welcome back, my daughter."
Frances gave no reply. Her eyes stayed locked on the monitor, laser-focused, her expression unreadable.
A few moments later, the operation was fully underway. The tech team of SONGint was already moving, screens lighting up as they prepared the bait. CEO Jing immediately authorized a five-hundred-thousand-dollar reward, posting it on the global hackers' forum with one click.
The effect was instant.
Within minutes, the forum erupted into chaos. Threads exploded, arguments broke out, code snippets flew across the platform as hackers worldwide threw themselves into the challenge.
the race had begun.
Amid the digital storm, Frances remained composed, arms lightly folded, posture relaxed but eyes unwavering as she observed the unfolding battlefield she had created.
...
Hours passed with SONGint's tech team monitoring the situation.
there wasn't a single trace of the virus's creator. Thousands of black hat hackers had already attempted to break through the malware, yet every one of them failed.
As time dragged on, CEO Jing grew more and more frantic. His phone buzzed nonstop—calls from board members, messages from shareholders panicking, warnings of stocks plummeting. His company was moments away from collapse.
"How much longer?" Mr. Jing demanded as he paced in circles, anxiety practically radiating off him. He turned toward Frances, who was sitting quietly to the side, legs crossed, eyes half lidded in thought.
"Frances… this was your plan. You must have a backup plan, right? Right?" His voice cracked with desperation.
Frances answered without looking up.
"Besides raising the reward. I've got nothing else."
Her voice was cold, almost emotionless.
The words hit Mr. Jing hard. He hesitated, swallowed, then turned toward the nearest tech on a computer.
"Raise the reward… to 1.5 million!" he ordered.
The moment the announcement went out, the cyber battlefield erupted. Hackers worldwide dove in like sharks sensing blood.
Frances stood up smoothly and walked toward an empty PC booth in the cyber defense headquarters. Her movement was confident, deliberate—almost elegant. She knew this was the moment.
Time to step in.
Back in the monitoring booth, Mr. Jing let out a shaky breath and turned to Chairman Song.
"Your daughter… she's really something else, isn't she?" he said, awe filling his voice. "From the start, she was already planning this—turning chaos into opportunity. She pushed me to raise the reward because she was one of the biggest fish who will bite."
Chairman Song chuckled, and so did Jing.
Frances crack her neck and fingers as she booth up the computer.
She knew that with that amount of reward the top hackers from all around the world, including notorious groups would now be interested in the virus.
Not only she is interested in the competition but also this can be beneficial for them. They can salvage the situation to monitor the big hacking groups that will be loured out by this massive bait.
"This is our chance to watch who bites," Frances murmured to herself. "Let's see which ghosts show their faces."
Then she got to work.
"Set up this honeypots across the net. Make them loud and expensive," Frances ordered, eyes glued to the screen.
"Let's give him something to bite."
"Honeypots?" one of the newer techs asked.
"Decoy systems," Sia answered without looking up. "Fake targets. We make them look real and valuable, so hackers waste their time on them instead of the actual system."
"And if we're lucky," Frances added, "they go for the bait—and we trace them."
"Traps are live," Sia reported. "Plenty of small-time hackers trying to get in, but still no sign of the target."
The team hesitated.
Frances didn't wait. She dropped into her chair, fingers hammering the keys. The overhead screens lit up with flashing red alerts.
Her gaze flickered over them, calm and unblinking.
Terminal windows snapped open and closed. Proxy routes unraveled. IP traces launched. Code scrolled in dense, brutal blocks.
One by one, the red alerts winked out—green replacing them like a closing iron gate. Traced.
A new tech swallowed hard, voice hushed. "She's… doing that live."
Jia let out a low whistle. "No mercy."
Frances didn't look up.
She exhaled once. Cold. Steady.
"Clear," she said.
She leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing at the quieted screen.
Click. Clack. Code flowed like poetry beneath her fingertips. As she dissected the virus, black-hat hackers lurking in the system tried to break through, each one attempting to out-code her. They didn't last. One by one, she shut them down — isolating their signals, cutting their access, snapping their exploits in half like fragile glass.
Within just half an hour, the virus was already 95% dismantled. The battlefield that had looked chaotic moments ago now bent under her control, every infected segment falling with precision.
The room fell quiet.
Engineers, analysts, even the interns stood behind her in awe, whispering guesses at her next command. No one dared interrupt.
Finally, with a final flourish of code, she hit Enter.
The system stabilized.
The virus — neutralized.
Cheers erupted from behind her.
"You did it!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Miss Song is a genius!"
Applause echoed across the room. Up in the observation deck above, Chairman Song and Mr. M stood behind the glass wall overlooking the lab. Mr. M clapped with genuine relief.
" incredible,"
Chairman Song didn't reply, just smiled with pride as he watched his daughter in action.
But Frances… didn't move.
Her eyes were locked on the screen. Unblinking. Her hands hovering over the keyboard.
Then she spoke—low, cutting through the noise like a blade.
"Enough."
The room didn't catch it at first. A few kept clapping.
Frances stood up.
"I said, stop. Now."
Silence fell.
Everyone turned to her, confused by her sudden shift.
She didn't look at them. Her eyes were glued to the screen. Her fingers flew back to the keyboard, faster this time—urgent, focused. Lines of code scrolled, her gaze scanning deeper and deeper into the system's back-end.
And then—
She stopped.
Her voice dropped into a whisper. "No... This isn't it."
She turned to the team, her expression sharp as glass.
"We've been fooled."
The room was quiet now—everyone watching her. Suddenly, the screen flickered.
She clicked. Nothing.
Tapped. Still nothing.
Then, the monitor went black.
Frances's eyes widened.
"...No."
For a moment, the darkness felt absolute.
And then—
the hum of the world shifted.
Somewhere else, far from Songint's bright laboratories, a different monitor lit up in a dimly lit room.
A lone figure sat at a desk, face hidden beneath a black hoodie, an eerie clown mask glowing faintly in the monitor's light. His fingers danced across the keyboard, lines of encrypted code reflected in his lenses.
Back at Songint—
Alarms blared.
Every workstation crashed, screens going dark one by one like falling dominoes. Engineers and programmers rushed to reboot, assess, contain. A controlled space turned chaotic in seconds.
Frances stood still amidst the panic, both hands on the desk. Her jaw was tense. She didn't speak.
Chairman Song and Mr.Jing rushed into the lab from the upper deck, alarmed by the sudden system failure.
"What happened?" Mr.Jing demanded. "I thought it was over!"
Frances finally turned toward them, calm but grave.
"I thought I had it. But even before the shutdown… something felt wrong. The virus was too easy to kill."
Mr. Song furrowed his brow. "Too easy?"
"Not weak, but deliberate. Like it wanted to be caught. I saw anomalies in the code, but they were subtle. Almost invisible. I didn't want to assume… but now it's clear."
She took a breath.
"It was a trap. The virus had already been neutralized. We are already late to begin with. Instead of removing it, he rewrote it… turned it into something worse.
The modified code blocks out anyone else who tries to fix it—making him the only one who can remove it completely. He understood the situation far too well. He knew that by the time we tried alternative solutions or rebooted recovery efforts, it would already be too late. Jing Financial's shares are dropping by the minute.
And before we can even stabilize our systems, the company could already be on its knees. He planned it perfectly! Now, he's positioned himself as the only key—and the only option."
The room went still.
Then—
Notifications flooded hacker forums around the world.
A name surfaced.
M.v.E….
He had hijacked the virus, and now he made his move.
A ransom demand flashed across global channels.
$3,000,000 — or the virus stays and spreads.
The message reached Songint within minutes.
Mr. Robert M. looked at the crashing numbers on his phone—shareholder stocks plummeting in real-time.
He cursed under his breath. Then with gritted teeth, nodded.
"…Pay it."