In the dead of night, all was quiet.
Alice sat before an old Dell laptop that looked clunky, its fans roaring like a helicopter.
This was electronic junk she had scavenged from a second-hand appliance store yesterday; its specs struggled to even run Windows XP.
It was only because Alice had the [Ai Haibara] character card loaded that she could barely compensate for the outdated hardware with software optimization.
On the table sat the black Motorola flip phone she had snatched from Kirill.
A self-modified data cable connected the phone's motherboard jumper interface to the computer's serial port.
On the screen, green code flowed like a waterfall.
"The encryption methods are so primitive it's like they're using Morse code."
Alice's fingers danced across the keyboard, producing a rapid series of clicks.
In those ice-blue eyes, scrolling hexadecimal characters were reflected, a hint of bored mockery hanging at the corner of her mouth.
"Even though they're using a jump server exclusive to the Russian Mafia, the firewall is full of holes. Any middle schooler who knows a bit about network protocols could strip them bare."
[Enter].
With one final crisp keystroke, a red unlock box popped up on the screen.
[Access Granted].
The Motorola phone's screen lit up, exposing its contacts, messages, and call recordings completely to Alice.
She put on her headphones and clicked the most recent call recording.
After some static, a voice with a thick Russian accent spoke in English.
"The mole has already sent the transport route. Next Wednesday morning, they'll have a special transport vehicle disguised as an ordinary truck leaving the Osborn factory in New Jersey for the Manhattan headquarters. It's carrying the green potion we want."
"Gather the men and bring the heavy hardware. If that mole dares to get in the way, take him out too."
The recording cut off abruptly.
Wednesday morning.
Isn't that the day after tomorrow?
And if she remembered correctly, Midtown High School's field trip to Osborn Industries was also on Wednesday.
"Green potion, enhancer."
Alice's mind quickly pieced together a few keywords.
At this point in time, 2005, Norman Osborn was frantically pushing the Human Enhancement Project to secure Military contracts.
And the product of this project was the serum that would later turn him into the Green Goblin.
Clearly, this billionaire facing bankruptcy, or some of his rogue researchers, were privately selling off rejected, defective serum to the mob to recoup funds.
"How interesting."
Alice's lips curled slightly.
If this batch of green potion fell into her hands, it would be a precious scientific sample.
"I'm really looking forward to it."
She shifted her gaze back to the contact list extracted on the screen.
The first contact was labeled: Big Brother Alexei.
She took off her headphones, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
She began using the SIM card trust credentials from Kirill's phone to send a silent MMS containing special code to Alexei's number.
This kind of silent MMS didn't require the recipient to click anything; as long as the phone received it and automatically tried to parse the preview in the background, the Trojan would exploit system vulnerabilities to plant itself.
In an era where smartphones weren't yet ubiquitous, this was a dimensionality reduction strike that was almost impossible to counter.
A few seconds later.
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