Zark stared at the flickering screen of his laptop. The dim light barely illuminated the cluttered room, casting long shadows across his workspace. The code he had just finished was flawless, but the satisfaction of completing it was already fading, overshadowed by a nagging thought lurking at the back of his mind.
A heavy knock echoed through the apartment.
Zark's frown deepened. He knew that knock.
"Zark! Open up! We need to talk!"
Mr. Gaspar's voice, loud and stern, boomed through the door.
Zark cracked his knuckles and stood, the weight of the situation sinking in. His foot tapped softly against the floor, a small attempt to keep himself calm.
He opened the door to find Mr. Gaspar standing there, arms crossed, looking less than pleased.
"You know why I'm here."
Zark didn't respond, his eyes lowering.
"Rent was due last week, and I haven't seen a dime."
Zark swallowed hard, feeling the tension tighten in his chest.
"I know, Mr. Gaspar. I just need a bit more time. I have some freelance work coming in. I swear."
Mr. Gaspar's expression didn't soften.
"This isn't the first time, Zark."
His voice had a hard edge to it as he stepped inside without an invitation.
"You need to pay your rent on time. I can't keep letting this slide."
Zark nodded, trying to steady himself, though the anxiety gnawed at his insides.
"Please, just a few more days. I promise I'll have it by then."
Mr. Gaspar sighed, rubbing a hand over his thinning hair. His frustration was palpable, but there was something softer in his gaze.
"You've got until the end of the week. If you don't have it by then, we'll have to talk about your options."
Zark nodded again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
Mr. Gaspar studied him for a moment before turning toward the door.
"I hope you figure things out, Zark. It's not easy for anyone right now."
As the door clicked shut, Zark let out a slow breath, the tension settling heavily in his chest. He sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair.
"Until the end of the week."
The words echoed in his mind, over and over. He glanced at the clutter of freelance work scattered across his desk. It wasn't enough. The money coming in was barely a trickle, and the bills were piling up faster than he could handle.
"What am I going to do?"
He muttered to himself, staring blankly at the screen. His foot tapped rhythmically against the floor again, the anxiety refusing to leave.
Then, a darker thought crept into his mind. One he had pushed aside too many times.
"What if I tried hacking? Just this once?"
The idea hung in the air, tempting and terrifying all at once. Zark felt his chest tighten as the thought took root.
He had the skills. Breaching a system to steal Bitcoin wouldn't be impossible. With his knowledge of programming, cybersecurity, and how cryptocurrency works, he could break into a wallet and transfer the funds to himself. But the guilt gnawed at him.
"I could never do that," he whispered, shaking his head.
Still, the financial pressure pressed harder. Rent. Bills. Survival.
"Just once. Just to get through this."
Zark leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to silence the debate raging in his mind. He couldn't keep living like this, constantly scraping by. Maybe, just maybe, this was the way out.
"I'll prepare carefully."
His voice was firmer now, determination building behind the doubt.
"I won't get caught."
He sat up straight, the decision made. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he opened a new terminal window. He needed to be careful, starting with creating a folder on his computer specifically for this new project.
bash
mkdir ~/Hacking_Projects cd ~/Hacking_Projects
He created a separate folder to organize everything. It was a small step, but the beginning of something bigger. Next, he would use a VPN—a tool that hides his location online by making it look like he's connecting from somewhere else. He'd make sure his internet connection was routed through multiple layers of protection, so no one could trace him back to his real identity. He also set up a fake cryptocurrency wallet to move the stolen funds.
"I need to find a vulnerable account," he muttered.
Hours passed as Zark searched online, looking for weak spots in Bitcoin wallets and exchanges where people store and trade cryptocurrency. Finally, he found a target—a cryptocurrency exchange (like a digital bank for Bitcoin) that had a few hidden security flaws.
Zark cracked his knuckles, the sound breaking the silence in the room. He opened the terminal again and began writing a complex program. This wasn't going to be a basic trick or scam. He needed to force his way in by trying different secret codes (called API keys) until one worked. Once inside, he'd take advantage of a weak spot in how the exchange handled transactions.
python
import requests
url= "https://targetexchange.com/api/withdraw"
headers = {"Authorization": "Bearer vulnerable_token"}
data = {"address": "my_wallet_address", "amount": "0.5"}
response = requests.post(url, headers=headers, data=data)
"Just this once," Zark muttered again, his voice barely above a whisper.
Adrenaline surged through him, fueling his focus as he pushed forward with the plan. Each keystroke brought him closer to his goal, and with every line of code, the weight of his decision pressed down harder.
The system was tougher than expected, but Zark wasn't one to give up. After hours of relentless effort, he finally broke through. He watched the terminal as the blockchain confirmed the transfer—0.5 Bitcoin, worth approximately 20,000 pesos.
"I can't believe this worked."
The words escaped him, tinged with both disbelief and guilt as he saw the Bitcoin appear in his wallet.
Quickly, Zark transferred the funds to a third-party service, exchanging it for pesos (regular money). Once the transaction was completed, he moved the money into his bank account. But before facing Mr. Gaspar, he needed the cash in hand.
He grabbed his jacket, slipping it on as he left his apartment, his mind already buzzing with the next step. The nearest ATM was just a few blocks away. His foot tapped nervously as he approached the machine, checking the surrounding area out of habit.
Zark slid his card into the machine and punched in his PIN. Moments later, the familiar whir of the machine came to life, and pesos began to spill into the cash slot. He collected the bills quickly, stuffing them into his jacket pocket. It wasn't much, but it was enough for rent.
"This is just for now," he reassured himself, the unease settling deep inside him.
"I won't make a habit of it."
He walked back to his apartment, the cash now tangible proof of what he had done. The thrill of hacking—the rush—was already fading, replaced by the guilt creeping back in. He couldn't let this become his life. Not again.
Zark counted out the cash he had earned from his freelance work, mixed with the new payment. He shoved the money into an envelope, feeling a weight lift, if only slightly.
"Time to face the music," he murmured.
He stood up, steeling himself, and stepped out of his apartment. Each step down the narrow hallway felt heavier than the last. When he reached Mr. Gaspar's door, he knocked lightly.
"Come in!"
Mr. Gaspar's voice came from inside, muffled but clear.
Zark opened the door and stepped inside. Mr. Gaspar sat at a small table cluttered with papers, his eyes narrowing slightly as Zark approached.
"You're here to talk about rent, I assume?"
Zark nodded, offering the envelope.
"Yes, I have the payment for this month."
Mr. Gaspar's eyebrows raised in surprise as he took the envelope.
"You actually got it? Well, this is a pleasant surprise."
He counted the cash, nodding.
"I wasn't sure how you were going to manage."
"I had a few jobs come in," Zark replied, his forced smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Mr. Gaspar glanced up, his expression a mixture of skepticism and relief.
"Just remember, Zark, I can't keep extending grace. You need to stay on top of this."
"I know. I'll do better, I promise."
Mr. Gaspar nodded, the tension in the room easing slightly.
"Alright. Just keep me updated. You're a good tenant. I don't want to see you go."
Zark felt a flicker of gratitude, though the guilt gnawed at him.
"Thank you for understanding. I appreciate it."
As he left Mr. Gaspar's apartment, the feeling that he had crossed a line only grew stronger. The money in his pocket felt heavier than it should. He'd paid his rent, but at what cost?
Back in his own apartment, Zark closed the door behind him, staring at the walls that now seemed to close in on him.
"What have I done?"
The question echoed in his mind, his foot tapping lightly against the floor. He knew he had to be careful. This was just the beginning.
The choices he made today had set something in motion, and as he looked at the flickering screen of his laptop, Zark realized there was no turning back.