Honestly, some mornings I just wanted to throw my phone across the room. That incessant hum of the servers, usually background noise, had become this dull, relentless thrum in my skull. You know that feeling when you just know something's wrong, even if you can't quite put your finger on it? That's been my life lately. My office, all glass and steel, looks out over Shanghai – a sprawling, restless city that never sleeps, just like Horizon Tech. But lately, our company, for all its outward shine, felt like it was silently bleeding out.
It started subtly. Little things, really. A memo I was sure I'd only shared with two people somehow landing in a competitor's pitch. A prototype for our new AR glasses, still under wraps, having similar features pop up on a rival's concept art. At first, I brushed it off. Just coincidences, right? Happens in this cutthroat industry. But then it got personal. Last week, a critical design schematic for 'Zenith' – our big AI assistant project, years of blood, sweat, and frankly, obscene amounts of money – appeared on some obscure dark web forum. It was disguised, cleverly done, but it was there. The implications? Catastrophic. Zenith is our baby, our future. This leak wasn't just a hit; it felt like a punch to the gut.
I ran a hand through my hair, probably messing it up, but honestly, who cares? You see me in the boardrooms, sharp suit, even sharper answers, the picture of composure. But lately, I've been sleeping maybe four hours a night, if I'm lucky. Every morning, without fail, Wu Tianyu – The more efficient – placed another security report on my desk. Another "unauthorized access," another "data exfiltration attempt." ,Red alerts in his angry, little eyes. It's relentless. It's like we're fighting a ghost, one that knows our house better than we do.
And the pressure? Oh, the pressure. It's not just from the IT guys, or the falling stock predictions. It's from the Manor. From Grandfather. He doesn't yell, you know? Never yells. His disappointment is a much heavier burden. It just settles on you, a quiet, suffocating presence. Last night, at dinner, he just looked at me over his perfectly filleted sea bass. "Liang Chen," he'd said, his voice so calm it was unnerving, "Horizon Tech requires a steady hand in these turbulent times. Your leadership is... tested." Just like that. No need for drama. The message was crystal clear: You're failing. Prove yourself. Or else.
It all ties back to that ridiculous marriage condition, doesn't it? That extra 20% stake, the presidency – it's all conditional on me proving I can lead. And right now, the only thing I'm leading is a group of very stressed engineers chasing phantoms.
"Anything new on Nightingale?" I asked Wu Tianyu, my voice probably betraying more tension than I intended. Nightingale is our internal codename for this whole mess.
He was there, as always, already placing a tablet in front of me before I had even finished the question. This guy is a mind reader. "We've tightened defenses again, Mr. Liang," he said, his tone as even as ever.
"But the methods… they're just evolving too fast. It's not some random script-kiddie. It's precise, targeted. Almost… surgical."
"Surgical," I repeated, leaning back. "Meaning they know exactly what they're after. And where to find it." My mind immediately jumps to insiders. We've done background checks, polygraphs, everything. No obvious traitors. So, either they're brilliant at covering their tracks, or we're dealing with someone truly next-level from the outside, getting incredibly lucky with insider knowledge. The thought's unsettling.
I scrolled through the report. IP addresses that vanished into the digital ether. Malware signatures so new, our systems barely registered them before they would do their damage. This isn't just "corporate espionage"; this is an operation. Well-funded, expertly executed.
"Have we, seen any of this from Evotech Solutions before?" I asked, naming our chief rival. Sun Ming's company plays dirty, everyone knows that.
"Some parallels, Mr. Liang," Wu Tianyu confirmed, "especially in the stealth. But these new signatures, they are just beyond Evotech's usual capabilities. It's like they've hired a ghost, or maybe, their own internal team had a massive upgrade overnight."
A ghost. That hits a nerve. Zhang Cai, my hacker friend, he talks about these legends, these anonymous figures in the underground who can slip past anything. Could one of them be targeting us? This idea is a bitter pill, but also… a strange kind of challenge. If we're facing from one of them, then the rules of the game have completely changed.
And Grandfather is watching. Liang Zixin's watching, probably already sharpening his knives. Liang Zhe, that snake abroad, is probably already plotting. The constant headache from this espionage? It's not just a headache anymore. It's a full-blown migraine that could cost me everything. My position, the company, my family's legacy. This isn't just about business anymore. This is war, waged in the shadows, and I'm feeling the pressure to win.