Chapter 341: The Beginning of the Stream

Burrick was browsing Twitter. At his company, there was a dedicated news team post focused entirely on Twitter updates—and this week, the duty fell to him.

The job had started off as a gag: keep an eye on the U.S. President's Twitter account. The notoriously unpredictable president had a habit of shaking global markets with a single tweet. But over time, the role had grown in importance. What began as political monitoring evolved into full-on trend tracking—celebrities, hacker groups, viral threats—anything that could explode into news.

It was Burrick's job to spot it first.

He scrolled absentmindedly… then paused.

A tweet had appeared from a long-abandoned account.

The Clown Organization.

The same group that had once used a cyberweapon—the Clown Virus—to kidnap an entire city's network infrastructure and hold it for ransom. After that legendary attack, they had vanished without a trace.

But now, after months of silence, they posted again.

My heart is like this face...

Burrick's body went cold.

His lips felt dry.

It was them—without a doubt.

Shaking slightly, he copied the tweet and forwarded it to his company's main news account.

The new circus show is about to open!

The tweet, cryptic as it was, exploded.

The return of the Clown Organization sent an instant shockwave through the digital world. Memories of their last attack flooded back: the locked city, the chaos, the fear.

They're back.

"The Clown Organization is active again!"

"A new wave of cyberattacks might be coming!"

"We don't welcome you, clown."

"The circus overture: CIA slapped by clowns!"

"Clown Organization takes down CIA systems!"

Major media outlets latched on to the story within minutes. One short tweet had ignited a global frenzy, pushing the topic to the top of every social platform.

The nightmare from last time—a full-scale digital siege—had never quite faded from public memory.

Now, it was back.

And the panic returned with it.

As reports confirmed that the CIA's computer systems had been hacked around the same time, the implications grew terrifying.

If even the CIA couldn't defend itself... what chance did ordinary people have?

In households around the world, people began yanking out their internet cables. Office workers scrambled to back up their files. The collective trauma of the Clown Virus had left deep scars.

And now?

The boogeyman was back.

Online forums boiled with debate and speculation:

"The Clown Virus is written in Chinese programming language—Western antivirus programs can't even detect it. This language should be banned globally."

"Every major cybersecurity breach recently is tied to this damn Chinese character code. Ban it! Blame Chen Mo for even inventing it!"

"Actually, Marching Ant Company's antivirus software can detect it. I use it, and I've had zero issues."

"So what's the Clown's goal this time? Kidnap another city? Blackmail the U.N.?"

"I bet this time it's worse."

The breach of the CIA reignited the global debate over next-generation cybersecurity and the rising dominance of Chinese programming languages, especially in virus development.

Now, with the Clown Organization back on the grid—and directly targeting one of the world's top four intelligence agencies—the entire West was on red alert.

Inside the CIA's cyber operations center, chaos reigned.

"How much longer?!" Linna barked, pacing behind a row of frantic technicians.

All around her, senior leadership stood grim-faced, staring at screens full of corrupted files and half-scrambled systems.

The Clown Virus had wormed its way deep into their infrastructure. What it had stolen—no one knew yet.

If critical data had been copied, they were in serious trouble.

"Almost there!" one of the engineers grunted.

A tense minute passed.

Then—"We're in!"

The infected machine in front of him flickered back to normal.

Cheers erupted across the room.

"It's not as bad as last time," the engineer said proudly. "The virus didn't have encryption traps. Looks like they didn't intend to lock us down or demand ransom."

"Then what the hell are you celebrating for?" Linna snapped, her voice sharp as a whip.

"You let them invade the CIA's core systems. And now you're proud because you cleaned it up?"

The engineer's face turned pale. He lowered his head, speechless.

"Start a full sweep. I want to know exactly what they touched," Linna growled, her voice icy. "Don't assume they came for fun. They had a goal."

Everyone on the floor went silent, then scrambled into motion.

Minutes later, a pale-faced employee stood up, his voice trembling.

"I... I found something."

Linna turned slowly, already dreading the answer.

"What did they take?"

"The virus broke through the firewall. They accessed the agent file system. Our entire spy network and confidential agent data... has been copied."

"...What?"

Linna's knees buckled.

Her vision darkened.

Only the quick reflexes of a colleague stopped her from collapsing on the spot.

Gasps rippled through the room.

The agent database—real names, photos, identities, operations... all of it. If it had fallen into the wrong hands, the entire CIA network was compromised.

For a moment, the weight of it was too much to process.

Then Linna's eyes snapped back open. Her face twisted into a cold, furious expression.

Her pride. Her position. Her entire agency... humiliated.

And worst of all?

The Clown Organization was making a show of it.

She hissed through clenched teeth:

"Find them. I don't care what it takes. Burn the sky if you have to.

I want every last one of those bastards dragged into the light."