Hacker sat back in his gaming chair, rehashing everything he had put in place the last few days. Ear-God had commanded him to hack, and he had immediately gotten to work. He had found a Russian bot-net and was about to enact one of the greatest thefts of all time. Hacker had spent 3 full days manipulating a group of cyber-terrorists on the dark-net, the group responsible for destroying the data pertaining to the history of Ear-God. This was unforgivable. Hacker had decided, after reading the name of the account the group had posted with, "NotARussianHackingGroup," that the Russians were to blame for the erasure of such vitally important documents. He did what any good hacker would do. First, he made sure his network card was plugged diurectly into his router. Next, he sent out the "Hacking Mailing List," he had created in Microsoft Paint to several of his non-hacking friends, with the address of where they should meet him should things go poorly. He went around the town he lived and sent the longitude and latitude of his geocaches to himself, for when he had to run from the Russians. He was ready. He isolated their network, and made direct contact with the individuals on the dark-net letting them know he was about to kick their asses.
His plan was to get them to hack eachother, and while they were busy hacking eachother, he would steal their mainframe and use their own bot-net against them. Hacker was professional. He knew that this plan was risky, and he had never tried speaking to any normal people. He was a Meth-Baby Warrior Baby from Eastern Kentucky, after all. He would soon make Ear-God realize, however, that his place was at the top of the Meth-Tower once they rebuild Methtopia, next to his leader.
An alert popped up on Hacker's monitor and without hesitating he got extremely serious, "There's a Russian in the mainframe."
In reality, his messages were on a forum board on 4chan. Nobody took him serious, and even if they believed he knew how to hack, they didn't give a shit. Hacker did exactly what hacker knew how to do. He started smoking more Meth. He did, somehow fish out the address of a hacker. This was mostly due to him posting enraging things on the internet and this real hacker blatently threatening to kill him if he ever showed up and dropping his address.
Hacker knew what to do. He took his keyboard, lined it with scrap metal, and got into his Chavolet. He knew where the Russian hacker lived, in a suburb of Atlanta. He started driving.
Little did Hacker know, the hacker who posted his address WAS in fact a professional hacker. He had made several hundred thousand dollars before becoming more altruistic and avoiding stealing others' money. And Hacker was correct, this individual did have access to a Russian Botnet which he had been using to help Ukraine fight against it's Russian agressors. Hacker didn't give two shits though. He followed Ear-God's orders to the t and he WOULD get that bot-net.
Hacker drove directly up the driveway of the hacker's home in his Chavolet. Two shots rung out from the window of the hacker's home, and Hacker slumped over, lifeless. Hacker's foot, on the other hand, floored the Meth-Pedal, and the resulting explosion of the precursors of the Meth-Fuel after Hacker's vehicle struck the garage of the professional hacker's home is still being investigated today as a terrorism incident by several countries.
Ear-God sighed after recieving news that Hacker was dead. A failed experiment. Next time he may actually send his IT Meth-Baby to school... Or like make him get an IT job for a few years. "That fucking idiot was useless. I've never seen someone eat a monitor before. Hacker, you will not be missed."