Chapter 24: Network Confrontation

Biersen stepped out of the taxi, exhausted from the day's work.

Ever since money started flowing in, he hadn't once boarded a public bus. For just ten credits, he could ride comfortably from his office to his doorstep. Why endure the stress of packed buses when you could afford ease?

But today, something was off.

His steps froze the moment he saw an Avenger—sleek, military-grade—parked right outside his home.

A sinking feeling spread through his chest.

He rushed inside, heart pounding. The front door was unlocked!

As he reached the living room, he was stunned. A man was sitting calmly beside his mother, holding her hand and chatting like an old friend. In the open kitchen, two women were smiling and cooking together with the ease of lifelong friends.

"You're back!" Leon Black looked up, smiling as if everything was perfectly normal. "Great timing—dinner's just ready. Go wash your hands first."

Leon moved around the house like it was his own, gently helping Biersen's now-healthy mother to the seat of honor at the dining table. He arranged the cutlery himself, then nodded to the two women in the kitchen.

"We're having steak tonight," Lena Fox announced warmly, her apron dusted with flour, her voice gentle.

"Oh, wonderful! Thank you, dear!" Biersen's mother beamed, clearly moved. The wife of her son's boss personally preparing a meal? She would've eaten it even if she'd lost all her teeth.

"No worries," Lena smiled. "It's tender and easy to chew."

Besides steak, the table held apple pie, fried shrimp, yogurt salad, cupcakes, and fresh fruit.

To the average Night City resident, this was an extravagant feast.

Fruits—especially bananas and grapes—had become rare luxuries due to desertification, radiation, and agricultural collapse. Leon had brought a few pounds, costing nearly 300 credits. Even now, Biersen rarely bought such delicacies—maybe an apple or two for his wife or mother as a treat.

His family didn't pray before meals. Once seated, everyone simply started eating.

---

Fifteen minutes later, with half the dishes cleared and everyone comfortably full, Leon asked casually, "So Biersen, how was work today?"

"Same as usual," Biersen replied stiffly, feeling uneasy under Leon's calm gaze.

"I see." Leon dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "I'll be out of town for a while. I'm leaving the company affairs in your hands."

"Oh… okay."

"One more thing—help me duplicate this." Leon handed him a sleek, separated data chip. "It's important."

Biersen hesitated but took it. "Alright."

Leon looked him in the eye. "I can trust you, can't I?"

"Yes," Biersen said automatically, though his thoughts were muddled.

"Good. Then it's settled." Leon tossed his napkin aside, glanced at his watch, and stood up. "Sorry, ma'am, I have to head out. Next time, I'll tell you a story—about a man who changed everything for his family."

"I'd love that," Biersen's mother said with a smile. "Biersen, walk them out."

"Huh? Oh—yes!"

Biersen trailed Leon and Lena out to the door.

"Biersen," Leon said, pausing before stepping into the car.

"Yes?"

"You have a lovely family. Don't ruin it over a single bad decision. That would be a real shame."

His words were soft, but Biersen felt their weight—like a warning wrapped in kindness.

Leon gave a last glance at a gray car parked nearby, shook his head, and left with Lena.

---

Back inside, Biersen gave vague answers to his wife's questions before locking himself in the study. He stared at the chip in his hand.

Company policy strictly forbade inserting foreign chips into internal computers. Unauthorized access could mean a breach of the company's entire security infrastructure. Ordinary employees didn't even have access to devices with external ports. Only department heads and above did.

He couldn't plug it into a company device even if he wanted to.

Before he could decide what to do, a knock at the door interrupted him.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!" his wife's voice rang out in alarm.

Biersen rushed out—and froze.

Armed soldiers in white-and-blue military armor were searching the house.

"Tarkov?" he gasped when he saw the familiar face leading them.

"No time to explain," Tarkov said quickly. "What did those two want?"

"They… they just had dinner with us."

"That's it?"

Another man stepped forward—stern-faced, commanding.

"This is Colonel Simpson, head of Security Force Squad Three," Tarkov whispered. "Be honest. This is serious."

"They also gave me a chip," Biersen confessed instantly, handing it over. He wasn't going to risk his life on silence.

Simpson handed the chip to a technician named Carter. "Check it. Now."

"Yes, sir."

Carter set up his computer on the messy dinner table and inserted the chip.

"…Huh?" Carter frowned.

"What is it?" Simpson leaned closer.

"There's… nothing inside. No, wait—it's being filled?"

Suddenly, Carter's eyes widened in horror. The progress bar on his screen was climbing—without any local activity!

"Damn it! It's a trap!" he cursed, yanking the chip out. But the upload didn't stop.

Sweat dripped from his forehead as he typed furiously, trying to isolate the breach.

Simpson stared at the screen, his face grim. "They're hacking Militech's servers."

Carter's fingers flew across the keyboard, attempting to trace the attack source. But the intruder was lightning-fast and powerful. Forget tracing—the system was barely holding off the onslaught.

Backup came online as Militech detected the breach, sending counter-code into the fray.

The hostile signal suddenly stopped moving.

"They've frozen!" Carter shouted. "Give me ten seconds—I can locate them!"

Everyone held their breath.

But the moment they surged forward—

BOOM.

The signal detonated.

Carter's screen went blue, emitting a long, piercing buzz.

"Shit!" Carter wanted to hurl the computer across the room, but it belonged to Militech, so he gritted his teeth and held back.

"They got away, didn't they?" Simpson asked.

"…Yes," Carter whispered. "And they took data with them. We won't know how much until the classified review is done."

Simpson's fists clenched.

"And the video and photo recordings?"

"All gone," Carter said bitterly. "They wiped the drive and the backup partition. Even the system OS is toast."

His face went pale. If he had used a neural link, that final spike could've crippled him.

Then something else struck him.

He couldn't remember their faces.

"Wait—what did they look like?!" Carter turned to Biersen. "Tell me!"

"I…" Biersen frowned. "There was a man and a woman… about my height, I think. And then…"

He stared blankly. "I can't remember their faces."

Simpson smacked him sharply. "Snap out of it! Say whatever you remember!"

"I—I forgot. Everything."

Simpson turned and stormed out in frustration. No usable intel, no leads. Their last hope was that maybe a nearby street cam had captured something—but with hackers like that?

Not likely.

---

Far from the chaos, Leon Black drove calmly, one hand on the wheel.

Lena Fox sat beside him, still dazed. She'd been connected to the net via a direct brain interface, enhancing her performance but taxing her body.

She blinked back into focus, then opened her laptop.

"Not much data," she muttered, disappointed. "I could've done better with better access."

"It's fine," Leon said. "Sometimes you have to shake the tree just to see what falls."

Lena opened a folder and paused. "Here's something. A wanted notice—internal only. Anthony Gilchrist, on the run. 500,000 credit bounty."

Leon glanced at the screen. The man was middle-aged, thin-rimmed glasses, professional air. A scientist?

"Interested?" Lena grinned.

---

Lena didn't have Ethan Cross's sharpshooting, Mike Taylor's brute force, or Lily Cross's tactical support. She wasn't built for front-line combat. But her hacking skills made her irreplaceable.

She was the team's lifeline.

With Leon's protection, Lena operated without fear. Whether it was decrypting security systems, jamming comms, or tracking data flows, she was a digital ghost—powerful, precise, and often invisible.

When there were no missions, Leon gave her small targets—just to keep her sharp. Like hacking Biersen's home network or mapping his contact list.

But now that the jig was up, that side job was done. A shame to lose the extra income… but as one door closed, another opened.

A 500,000-credit job was waiting.

"Alright," Leon murmured, eyes on the towering skyline. "Let's go hunt."

What a tiring, thrilling life this was.

pàtreøn (Gk31)