Wes sat in a chair, staring at the news on the forum. Nadella stood behind him, calm and composed.
It was already the agreed-upon time. As the notification appeared, Wes immediately straightened up and opened the message chat box.
"Let's do a deal," Nadella said.
Wes didn't dare to delay. He quickly replied to the Clown Organization, following Nadella's instructions.
"What kind of deal?" he typed.
Nadella, eyes locked on the computer screen, gave his command in an emotionless tone.
"Go on Twitter and post this: 'Thank you for your support from the Marching Ant Company.' If he does it, we'll give him a million dollars."
Wes's fingers trembled slightly. Nadella was trying to tie the Clown Organization to the Marching Ant Company—publicly implicating them by association.
Still, he typed out the message and sent it to the Clown.
But after thinking it through, Wes didn't hesitate. Following Nadella's words, he sent the message to the Clown.
After it was sent, the room went quiet. Both men waited for a response. Two minutes passed. Still no reply.
Wes glanced at Nadella, but seeing the other man calm and motionless, he said nothing and continued to wait.
After three minutes, a message finally came through.
"Ten million."
Seeing that reply, Wes couldn't help but suck in a breath. This Clown really had no shame—just a tweet, and they were asking that kind of money?
"Three million, final offer. Otherwise, the deal is off."
Wes sent the counteroffer. The silence returned. Two minutes later, the Clown responded.
"Deal."
"How do I confirm your identity?" Nadella asked.
"In two minutes, the next target: Tokyo. Prepare Bitcoin. Pay first, then I'll post."
After that message, the screen fell silent once more. The Clown wouldn't appear again—for now.
Nadella walked back to the couch and sat down in thought.
A while later, he turned on his phone. Sure enough, the Clown had tweeted.
"London. New York. Within two days, if no ransom is paid, I will launch indiscriminate attacks on both countries. Next target: Tokyo. Please prepare $200 million in Bitcoin."
Nadella set the phone down. There was no doubt now—this was indeed the Clown. The transaction could proceed.
"Buy the Bitcoin and contact him," Nadella said to Wes.
"Understood." Wes nodded immediately.
The Clown's tweet once again caused a global stir.
Not long after it went live, government agencies and the Tokyo stock exchange were hit by the Clown Virus. Fortunately, staff at major institutions quickly unplugged network cables, minimizing damage before the virus could spread.
Though offline, the main servers were not infected. As long as files weren't lost, they could still operate normally.
Within five minutes of the outbreak, news reports flooded the internet. Yet even amid the chaos, many continued to point fingers at the Marching Ant Company.
Suspicion toward them remained high. After all, the Chinese character programming language was developed by Marching Ant, and the earlier virus program had also somehow ended up in their hands. And curiously, Huaxia remained untouched by the Clown Virus.
Anyone could reasonably believe Marching Ant was behind it.
But aside from a mild official response, the company had taken no other public action.
Those hoping to take them down had no leverage.
The Marching Ant Company wasn't publicly listed—so there was no stock to crash. Foreign capital had no sway over them. And within China, no company dared to provoke this tech giant.
The criticism was loud, but the Marching Ant Company remained mostly unaffected. If anything, the Tokyo attacks brought more attention to their new Termite System, which claimed immunity to the Clown Virus.
Its popularity soared.
CIA – Office of Science and Technology
One of the CIA's four major divisions, this department was staffed by top-tier experts in various technical fields.
Morrison, a computer expert, had been recruited to collect intelligence. Since the outbreak of the Clown Virus, his sole task had been tracking the organization behind it.
At the moment, Morrison's expression was grim as he typed rapidly. Around him, other technicians worked in sync, nervously tracing digital footprints.
So far, the only actionable clue had come from the Clown's tweets.
Eventually, Morrison stopped. A map appeared on his screen, and his face darkened.
Over a hundred IP addresses—scattered across the globe.
Only one was real.
One by one, he began eliminating the false ones.
"How's it going?" asked a deep voice behind him.
It was Pompeii, the director of the CIA.
"Only one of these addresses is genuine," Morrison replied. "We need to eliminate the fakes."
"Notify the operations division. Have them investigate each location. Confirm the true address," Pompeii ordered grimly. "Even if our agents are exposed, it has to be done."
If they failed to catch the Clown Organization, the losses would only escalate.
A villa in Seattle
When the Bitcoin transaction succeeded, Wes turned and looked at Nadella. This was the largest Bitcoin purchase he'd ever made.
Cryptocurrency had no inherent value—just data. But widespread group recognition gave it legitimacy. Much like diamond jewelry: in essence, just polished stone, but culturally granted immense value.
With growing hype and mass participation, Bitcoin's price had climbed close to $20,000.
Wes, an expert in the internet industry, knew Bitcoin was a common medium among hackers and underground deals. He wouldn't have bought it otherwise.
"Contact him," Nadella said.
Wes nodded and messaged the Clown. Shortly after, they received a wallet address.
"Send it," Nadella ordered.
Three million dollars was a large sum for most people—but not for them. If Marching Ant continued using the Clown Virus to push their Termite System into corporate environments, their company stood to lose billions. This was a small price to pay to buy time.
As for whether the Clown would stick to the deal? Nadella had considered that.
This was a gamble. But at the moment, delaying the Marching Ant Company was the top priority.
"Pleasure doing business."
"Ask if he's willing to sell us the virus program and antivirus software—for twenty million dollars," Nadella added.
Wes sent the message. The Clown replied:
"Not interested."
After that, no matter what Wes sent, there was no further response.
Nadella's face darkened slightly. He pulled out his phone and opened Twitter again.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Still no new tweet.
Nadella's usually calm face finally showed a hint of unease. Had the Clown ghosted them? Was the three million gone?
Just as he was about to put away his phone and leave the villa, a sudden push notification popped up—and the shock hit him like a bolt.