Zark sat in the darkened room, the only light coming from the glow of his monitor. The hum of the high-end PCs, the extra monitors—all of it was there. Jason had provided everything Zark had asked for, and yet, it felt like a cage.
"It's all set," Jason said, his voice cutting through the silence as he slid a folder across the table.
"Our rivals are heavily protected. You've got one chance. If you mess this up..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence.
Zark's fingers twitched as he cracked his knuckles, a habit he'd picked up whenever things got tense.
"I've seen worse," he muttered, scanning the documents, eyes darting over the details of the network structure.
"Layers of firewalls... encryption..."
Jason leaned in slightly, his gaze hard, watching Zark for any signs of hesitation.
"One shot, kid. Fail, and you'll wish you were never born."
Zark swallowed, tapping his foot softly under the desk. He was used to pressure, but this was different.
"Got it."
Later, alone in his private room, Zark's heart pounded in his chest. He sat at the terminal, the glow of the screens casting eerie shadows. Jason's men were just outside, no room for error. He had to focus—failure wasn't an option.
Zark's fingers hovered over the keyboard, and he started with the basics.
"First things first, cloak myself," he whispered.
He initiated the VPN, bouncing his connection through multiple countries to obscure his location.
"Let's make sure no one's tracking me…"
bash
sudo openvpn --config vpn_config.ovpn
The VPN was just the first layer. He needed more. A multi-hop proxy chain would further scatter his digital trail, making it nearly impossible to trace back.
bash
proxychains -f /etc/proxychains.conf nmap -sS -p- target_ip
"Alright, now to see what we're dealing with," Zark muttered to himself, running an Nmap scan to probe the network for open ports—his way in.
The results came back. Zark frowned, staring at the screen.
"Nothing? Not a single vulnerability…" He leaned back, rubbing his temples.
"Must be custom-built firewalls."
He cracked his knuckles again, thinking through his options.
"Alright, time to try another approach."
Zark decided to monitor the network's internal communications, hoping to spot an opening—an overlooked backdoor or weak point in the protocols.
bash
wireshark -i eth0
For hours, he watched the traffic patterns. His eyes burned from staring at the screen, but then—there it was. A faint pattern, encrypted but consistent.
"Got you," Zark whispered, a small smile forming. But the smile quickly faded when he hit the next wall: deep encryption. It was going to take more than brute force to crack this.
"This encryption's ridiculous…"
He cracked his knuckles again, launching multiple attacks simultaneously. Brute-force wouldn't cut it, so he shifted to a dictionary attack, using a custom wordlist to try and find a match in the encryption key exchange.
bash
hashcat -m 2500 encrypted_file.hccapx wordlist.txt -o cracked_keys.txt
Minutes turned into hours, and the strain on his system was showing. Error messages filled the screen. Failed attempts. Zark gritted his teeth.
"Damn it!"
His voice was tense. "This isn't going to work... I need to change tactics."
Zark rubbed his temples, thinking fast. If he couldn't break the encryption with brute force, he'd have to get creative. He decided to code his own exploit—a custom tool to target the protocol he had identified.
"Time to build something specific… tailored for their system."
python
import socket
def exploit_protocol(ip, port):
s = socket.socket(socket.AF_INET, socket.SOCK_STREAM)
s.connect((ip, port))
# Custom exploit payload targeting internal protocol vulnerability
s.send(b"exploit_payload")
response = s.recv(1024)
return response
ip = 'target_ip'
port = 8080 # example port
result = exploit_protocol(ip, port)
print(result)
The exploit would inject a malicious payload, bypassing their security and giving him access. Zark's fingers moved rapidly over the keys, coding and testing. Finally, after what felt like forever, he ran the exploit.
At first, nothing happened. His heart raced. Then, the screen flickered to life, and logs started pouring in.
"I'm in."
The relief in his voice was palpable.
But the job wasn't done yet. Now inside, Zark still had to navigate layers of encryption and firewalls protecting the data Jason wanted. Every step deeper into the system met more resistance—more traps.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Zark muttered, launching commands to hold his ground in the system.
bash
scp username@target_ip:/path_to_file /local_directory
After what felt like an eternity, he finally located the data.
"There it is," he breathed, transferring the files to a secure USB drive.
Zark leaned back in his chair, the exhaustion finally washing over him. But the job was done.
He knocked on the door, signaling to Jason's men. They opened it, and Zark handed over the USB drive.
"It's done," he said, his voice steady despite the tension.
"I've got the data. Now, we had a deal."
One of Jason's men sneered.
"You think it's that easy?"
He stepped forward, his expression cold.
Zark felt a tightness in his chest.
"We had a deal."
His voice sharpened.
"I held up my end."
Another man laughed darkly, crossing his arms.
"Jason decides what happens next, not you. For now, you stay put."
Before Zark could argue, they shoved him back into the room and slammed the door. But in their haste, they forgot one crucial thing—they didn't lock it.
Zark's heart pounded as he realized.
"They didn't lock it…"
He stood still for a moment, listening to their footsteps fade down the hall. He approached the door cautiously, testing the handle. It turned easily.
"This is my chance," he whispered to himself.
Slipping out of the room, Zark stayed low, hugging the walls as he crept through the dimly lit corridors. He knew the cameras were still active. He needed to deal with that.
He quickly accessed the building's internal network, something he'd been quietly monitoring.
"Let's loop the camera feeds," Zark muttered, setting up a loop of harmless footage to cover his escape route.
bash
ssh admin@security_cctv.local sudo ./loop_cameras.sh
The cameras covering the hallway he needed switched to a loop, giving him a small window of time.
"One more thing… distraction."
Zark hacked into the building's electrical system, causing the lights to flicker and the alarms to sound.
bash
ssh admin@building_power.local sudo ./create_surge.py
The power flickered, plunging sections of the building into chaos. Zark moved quickly, slipping past guards who were too busy dealing with the power issues to notice him.
Just as he neared the exit, a figure stepped into his path—one of Jason's men. Zark's eyes darted around, looking for a way out. But before the man could react, the lights went out completely.
"Now's my shot," Zark thought, slipping past the man in the dark.
He pushed open the exit door, the cold night air hitting his face. For the first time in hours, he breathed deeply. Freedom.
Days later, Zark wandered through the squatter area on the outskirts of the city. His legs felt heavy, and exhaustion clung to him like a weight he couldn't shake. His eyes scanned the broken-down shacks, the people moving around in their makeshift homes. His stomach growled, the smell of food filling the air, but he had nothing. No money. No resources.
"I have to find something…"
His voice was hoarse, barely audible, as he muttered to himself.
As he walked, Zark overheard a conversation between two men standing outside a small shack. Their voices were filled with frustration.
"This damn computer is useless," one of the men grumbled, kicking the side of a rusty old tower that sat on the ground next to them.
"I don't know what's wrong with it. It's been dead for days."
Zark paused, glancing over at the men. He could hear the desperation in their tone. He knew it well. Taking a deep breath, he slowly approached them.
"I can fix it," Zark said, his voice tentative, careful not to startle them.
The two men turned, looking him up and down, their expressions skeptical. One of them raised an eyebrow.
"You?"
The man's gaze dropped to Zark's dirty clothes, his worn-out shoes.
"How do we know you won't just run off with it?"
Zark raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
"I'm not here to steal," he replied, swallowing his pride.
"I just… need some food. A little money. If I can fix it, will you pay me?"
The men exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure whether to trust him.
"How do we know you're any good?" one of them asked, crossing his arms. His tone was skeptical, challenging.
Zark's stomach clenched, but he kept his voice steady.
"Just give me a chance. If I can't fix it, you lose nothing. But if I do, you get your computer back, and I get to eat."
They hesitated for a moment before one of them sighed, gesturing toward a small, rickety stool outside their cramped home.
"Alright, sit down. Let's see what you can do."
Zark nodded, sitting down beside the old computer tower. His fingers moved with a familiar precision as he opened up the machine, inspecting the mess of wiring inside. Dust caked over the components, and he could see where things had shorted out.
"This thing's seen better days," he muttered softly to himself, tapping his foot as he worked.
After a few minutes of tinkering and careful adjustments, Zark plugged in the power and pressed the start button. The old machine whirred to life, surprising both men as the screen flickered on, displaying the operating system.
Zark wiped his hands on his pants, standing up slowly.
"There."
He cracked his knuckles, a faint smile forming on his face for the first time in days.
"It's fixed."
The two men stared at him in disbelief.
"How the hell did you do that?" one of them asked, shaking his head.
Zark shrugged, his voice quiet and tired.
"I know my way around a computer."
Despite his exhaustion, there was a sense of satisfaction in the small victory. It wasn't much, but it was something.
True to their word, the men handed Zark a bit of cash and shared a small meal with him. As he ate, Zark felt a strange sense of relief. The food filled his aching stomach, and for a moment, the weight of the world lifted just a little.
"Maybe…" he thought to himself, chewing slowly.
"Maybe I can rebuild, piece by piece…"
But as Zark ate, he didn't notice the shadowy figure watching him from across the street, their eyes fixed on his every move. It wasn't Jason's men. Whoever they were, their interest in Zark wasn't by chance. They had seen his skills and recognized his potential.
Zark wiped his mouth, unaware of the eyes in the distance. He wasn't just another face in the crowd anymore. Someone had noticed him—and whatever they wanted, it was only the beginning.