Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Simply deleting it would have been too cheap for them.
I was going to turn the project data that had consumed every ounce of my effort into a lock—a lock only I could open.
And the key? I would throw it into the abyss with my own hands.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, the cold blue glow of the screen reflecting the chill in my eyes. I didn’t alter a single piece of core data. Instead, I wrapped the entire AUS-58M Project Database in a Three-Layer Progressive Encryption Lock.
The first layer was a dynamic key lock. It regenerated its key every hour, and the rules that generated those keys were hidden inside an encrypted file on my private server.
The second layer was behavioral recognition. Only my fingerprint, my typing rhythm, and my habitual coding logic could trigger the decryption channel.
The third layer was a self-destruct warning lock. If the system detected more than three failed decryption attempts, the database would automatically conceal its core modules and leave behind nothing but corrupted gibberish—unrecoverable by any technical method.
When it was done, I quietly modified the access logs, erasing every trace of my own operation. What remained were only the routine access records belonging to Richard Vance and several core members of the Engineering Department.
Finally, I disconnected the remote session, shut down my personal computer, and let the room fall back into darkness.
I lay down again, wide awake, but strangely calm.
Like a hunter who had set her trap, waiting in silence for the prey to step into range.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains before I slowly opened my eyes.
The unplugged network cable still lay on the floor. My phone was still in airplane mode.
I got up, washed, made myself a bowl of noodles, and ate at an unhurried pace. Only after I finished did I plug the cable back in and turn on my phone.
The moment the screen lit up, a barrage of alerts exploded across it.
Ninety-nine missed calls. Every single one from Richard Vance.
There were also dozens of texts and work-chat messages—from the department group, from Richard himself, and even from two coworkers who barely spoke to me on a normal day.
Richard’s messages had progressed beautifully from orders to panic to pleading.
“Clara Bennett! Call me back immediately! This is urgent!”
“Something’s wrong with the project files. Send me the decryption method right now!”
“This is a fifty-eight-million-dollar project. Are you trying to destroy the company?”
“I’m begging you, Clara. Once this is fixed, I’ll approve a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus for you. And the next company team-building retreat in Australia—I swear you’ll be on the list.”
The department chat had already gone up in flames.
No one dared tag Richard directly, but everyone was circling the subject.
“Does anyone know what happened to the project files? Everything opens as乱码—just corrupted text.”
“The client company is losing its mind. Vance just blew up in his office.”
Chapter 2
“I heard only Clara can open it? Where is she? Why can’t anyone reach her?”
“Don’t tell me she did it on purpose. After what happened yesterday with the retreat spot being given to someone else…”
After that message appeared, the chat went silent for several seconds.
Then someone hurried to smooth things over.
“Don’t make wild guesses. Clara isn’t that kind of person.”
But no one said anything after that.
Clearly, everyone understood exactly what was going on.
I stared at the screen, the corner of my mouth lifting into a cold smile.
Then I picked up my phone and called Richard Vance.
He answered almost instantly. His voice came through hoarse and frantic.
“Clara! You finally picked up! Decrypt the files right now! The client is waiting for the proposal, and senior management is breathing down my neck!”
I leaned back against the sofa, my tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather.
“The files? Didn’t I tell you yesterday? I deleted them on a whim.”
“Bullshit!” Richard’s voice shot up, ragged with hysteria and fury. “I already had Engineering check. The files are still there, but they’re encrypted. Clara, you did this on purpose. Is this your revenge because of the team-building retreat yesterday?”
“Mr. Vance, you really shouldn’t say things like that.” My voice turned innocent. “After the project was delivered, I cleared out my work files. Company policy says confidential materials can’t be stored privately, doesn’t it? As for the encryption, I have no idea. Maybe it’s a system glitch.”
“A system glitch?”
Richard Vance let out a laugh sharp enough to cut through the phone.
“Three layers of encryption,” he said, each word shaking with rage. “And every one of them uses algorithms you always favor. Who else could have built something like this? Clara Bennett, I’m warning you, this isn’t some petty office drama. This is a fifty-eight-million-dollar project. If it collapses, do you think you can take responsibility for that? You’ll never work in this industry again.”
“Responsibility?” I repeated, and my voice went cold. “Mr. Vance, I built that project. I wrote the code. I stayed up night after night cleaning and organizing the data. When the project succeeded, you were listed as lead. You got the applause at the celebration dinner. Even the spot on the company team-building retreat that should have gone to me—you gave that to Amy. And now that there’s a problem with the files, suddenly you remember I exist? Suddenly you care about responsibility?”
Silence stretched on the other end of the line.
For a few seconds, Richard had nothing to say. Clearly, I’d hit exactly where it hurt.
Chapter 3
When he spoke again, his tone had softened into something deliberately gentle. “Clara, yesterday was my fault. I handled it badly. I’ll make up for the retreat. Next time, I’ll personally arrange something better for you. A week of paid leave, plus fifty thousand dollars in compensation. How does that sound? Just decrypt the files first. Don’t let this interfere with real business.”
“Fifty thousand?” I laughed. “Mr. Vance, I lost fifteen pounds in three months and pulled more all-nighters than I can count, and that’s what all of it is worth? Fifty thousand? And as for that project—you know exactly how much went into the company bonus pool after delivery. You took the largest share. You dangled the retreat in front of me like a consolation prize, then gave even that to someone else. And now you think you can pay me off?”
“Then what do you want?” His patience snapped. The softness vanished, replaced by the viciousness underneath. “Clara, don’t push your luck. If you insist on refusing to cooperate, I’ll call the police. I’ll accuse you of stealing company secrets and maliciously sabotaging the project.”
“Call them,” I said, shrugging even though he couldn’t see me. “When they arrive, I’ll hand over every piece of original code, every design draft, and every overnight work record tied to the project. Then I’ll pull the backdoor access logs from the company database and let the police see who stole whose work—and who abused his authority to change the project lead to his own name. Oh, and while we’re at it, I can tell them how Amy took my place on the retreat. Maybe Corporate Headquarters would also like to investigate whether you’ve been handing company benefits to your relatives on a regular basis.”
I paused, then added, “Tell me, Mr. Vance. If headquarters finds out that a director who climbed by stealing his subordinate’s work also managed to wreck a fifty-eight-million-dollar project, what do you think they’ll do to you? Fire you? Or come after you for financial liability?”
This time, the silence on the other end was complete.
All I could hear was Richard’s heavy breathing.
A long while passed before he finally spoke, his voice squeezed through clenched teeth. “What do you want?”