The days following the confrontation in the park were a masterclass in psychological warfare. Kofi's father, the quiet, unassuming engineer, had not just planted a bomb; he had lit a long, slow-burning fuse and then simply walked away.
The fabricated evidence on the USB drive was a work of art. It was just plausible enough to be believable, pointing to a betrayal by Silas's main competitor in the city's criminal underworld. The virus, meanwhile, was a subtle, insidious thing. It did not destroy data. It just… altered it. A number changed here, a decimal point shifted there. It was designed to create chaos, to sow distrust, to make Silas's entire, carefully balanced operation slowly, quietly, and inexplicably implode from within.
They did not have to do anything else. They just had to wait and watch.
