I rolled my shoulders trying to release the tension of hunkering over the keyboard for too long. My sister dozed fitfully now, the morning's excitement over the gene therapy approval having drained what little energy she had left. We still had a few days before her first infusion appointment.
Flexing my fingers, I plunged back into the web scanning message boards for potential work. Most of the jobs posted were petty scams not worth the effort. I needed to set my sights bigger, targeting people with too much money and too little tech savvy to cover their tracks. Millionaires and billionaires begging to be exploited if you knew where to look.
After almost an hour of scrolling sites, one post caught my attention - a mega yacht charter company catering to ultra-wealthy VIP clients. My search skills uncovered that the company's payment portal had been developed in-house with what looked like glaring weaknesses. Their cyber security relied on preventing access attempts rather than encryption. If I could spoof an identity to get past the minimal perimeter walls, their entire client financial database could be laid bare. Seemed almost too easy.
I spent the next few days coding a form of malware undetectable by standard network defence software. Once ready, I initiated a phishing attack aimed at high-level login credentials. An anxious 36 hours passed hacking further into the company's systems waiting for a bite.
At last, the tell-tale sign of my phisher triggering appeared on my screen. Someone took the bait and entered their system credentials. I silently praised the employees' inability to avoid suspicious links as the plaintext login info appeared. Whoever clicked was probably going to have a terrible morning dealing with the aftermath, but that wasn't my problem. I got what I needed.
Quickly, before they discovered the intrusion, I accessed the payment portal entering the stolen credentials. Transaction reports, credit cards, bank accounts - everything unlocked before my eyes. These luxury yacht guys generated insane cash flow. Enough to maybe even fully fund Asami's treatment five times over if I worked this right.
Adrenaline rushed through me realizing the scale of assets suddenly within reach. For a split second, guilt and nausea welled up at how many lines I'd crossed. How illegal and ruthless I had become. I glanced at a photo of me and Asami as kids with our late parents on the beach, plastic pails full of sandcastles we'd built together. That innocence was gone now. But it strengthened my resolve - I would do anything to get back the life we had before leukaemia ravaged our world.
I meticulously earmarked accounts tied to certain billionaire celebrities known for indulgent ocean getaways. Distribution across multiple accounts should keep any one mark from detecting unusual activity until I moved the funds through my laundry system. Once washed and paid out to Asami's clinic, it would be untraceable, practically anonymous.
The clock read nearly 11 PM by the time I finished selecting targets. Bleary-eyed, I initiated my first round of fraudulent transfers then wiped activity evidence from the company portal before logging out. Phase one complete and running smooth as encrypted silk. Now it was just a waiting game to monitor the accounts and capture my commissions as they processed through my shadow accounts. Within a week, Asami would have everything she needed. And the bastards I stole from? They probably wasted more than I took on one weekend of partying.
Over the next few days, I watched with satisfaction as six figure sums trickled into my offshore accounts from the yacht company targets. On the surface, I maintained my unassuming tech support day job routine, handling mundane networking issues and password reset requests. But when I got home, I dove back into monitoring my laundering system, orchestrating the intricate transfer through dummy corporations and forged investor groups.
So far, I managed to siphon a little over a million split across three accounts ready for dispersal. The bulk of the money I had flagged was still mid-route making its way through the churning process to cover my tracks.
Tonight, the first big infusion payment was scheduled for Asami's new treatment. My leg bounced impatiently as the clinic's finance page reloaded. When the payment confirmation updated showing as received from the shell company account, I set up, I finally exhaled, long and deep. That would cover months' worth of therapies to buy me more time.
Asami shuffled slowly into the living room, bundled in a thick robe and blanket. I shifted my laptop screen subtly as she sat down next to me, giving a tired smile.
"Big day tomorrow, kiddo," I said. "I spoke to the nurses and they are getting everything prepped for your first IV infusion."
"What happens if the payments don't go through on time?" Her voice quivered slightly. "If whoever is funding this changes their mind?"
I turned toward my sister, putting both hands firmly on her shoulders. "That will never happen, Asami. I swear to you. I've set up reliable long-term support, no matter what it takes."
Her lip began to tremble. "I'm trying to be strong but I'm just so scared, Kai..."
Seeing her faithful, childlike trust in me steadied my own nerves. I wrapped my arms gently around her exhausted frame.
"You only need to worry about feeling better, Asami. The rest will take care of itself, I promise. This is all going to work."
I held her as she finally let the tears fall, dampening my shirt. Rocking slowly, I stroked her hair and soothed her until the sobs faded to hiccups, then to slow steady breathing. She had drifted off to sleep again curled into me like when we were young. Carefully I carried her down the hall back to bed, tucking the covers snugly around her. Tomorrow was a hopeful beginning. Watching her get infused with cutting-edge treatments I had moved heaven and earth to obtain eased my mind. For all the ethical rules I broke, seeing my sister's life extended was worth whatever penance may come in the end. As long as she survived, I knew I could endure and outrun anything.