Silence returned to his penthouse, a different silence now, filled with the anticipation of what was to come. The smell of ozone and the distant hum of the Lakeside Technology Center, thousands of miles away but under his complete control, were the only companions in his room. Daniel knew the Game Master was no one, but everyone; the architect of the Dark Web, feared by all organizations. He wrought evil on his own, not by command, but by his own complex nature, and created documents and identities that outsmarted governments. The Game Master's intelligence was beyond anything ever conceived, and Ghost was ready to test the limits of that intelligence, and his own.
The journey into the "dark side of the dark web" was about to begin, and the question "Hacker: Who Am I?" echoed louder than ever.
Daniel's console's main screen, a mosaic of ultrawide monitors forming a luminous wall in his workspace, vibrated with the urgency of the new order. The message, coming from the familiar channelajuda@ajuda.ghost, brought the bureaucratic coldness of a real world in contrast to the digital abstraction in which he inhabited.LAPD incident report number: 385472-6. Missing Child.The simple phrase, "Missing Child," resonated in his mind, piercing the habitual layer of detachment he maintained to cope with the constant flow of human despair. He had seen it all: injustice, corruption, heinous crimes, but the disappearance of a child always carried a different gravity, a weight that could not be fully digitized or abstracted.
Daniel's fingers hovered over the holographic keyboard, which pulsed with a soft blue glow. His honey-brown eyes, previously focused on the complex dance of Cicada 3301's codes—a challenge now awaiting his attention in the background—were fixed on the few characters that betrayed a family's desperation. He didn't know who had sent the request—a mother, a father, a distant relative?—but the urgency was palpable, even through the cold barrier of the internet. The three-story penthouse, with its infinity pool reflecting the starry New York sky, its polished marble, and its priceless artwork, suddenly seemed distant, a luxurious cage separating him from the chaos and pain of the outside world, into which he would now be pulled.
"Henry,"Daniel called, his low but firm voice filling the vast space of the room. There was no hurried footstep, not the sound of a door opening. Henry simply materialized, as if he had always been there, waiting on the threshold of perception, his suit impeccable and his expression serene. He approached the workstation, his eyes discreetly directed to the main screen, where the brief distress message was displayed. Henry needed no explanation; his loyalty and understanding of Daniel's mission were absolute. He knew that every request for helpajuda@ajuda.ghostit was a chink in the veil of Daniel's invisibility, a call to the moral battlefield he had chosen.
"Yes, Mr. Daniel?"Henry's voice was calm and respectful, but Daniel could sense the undercurrent of concern that always arose when children were involved. Henry had seen firsthand the impact of the world's darker side, and his gratitude for Ghost having pulled him out of harm's way, for having saved his own family, was an unbreakable bond. Every member of his team—from Chef Antoine, who was now likely preparing some sophisticated dish in the kitchen, to the day and night maids who kept the apartment in impeccable order—shared this devotion. They had been rescued by Ghost, pulled from desperate situations: family members found, killers unmasked, lives rebuilt. Their lives were now a silent testament to Daniel's power and ethics, and they would give their lives for him without question. This was the true foundation of his empire, stronger than any fortune in cryptocurrencies or stocks.
"Set up a secure line. I need to contact the source of this call for help. I want to verify its authenticity and get every detail that isn't in the police report. Every detail the person can provide me."Daniel instructed, his eyes fixed on the message. He wasn't asking; he was ordering a digital orchestra to move. Henry merely nodded slightly. He knew that "everything" for Ghost meant a complete and invasive sweep that no government or security agency could pull off in such a short time, or even imagine.
Henry left as silently as he had arrived, the glass door to the work area sliding noiselessly behind him. Daniel was alone again with his thoughts and the cold light of the monitors. The Cicada 3301 interface still pulsed in a corner of the screen, the Game Master's challenge still waiting."A game within a game,"he muttered to the void, a slight smile of irony playing on his lips."The Game Master summons me to his great war, and the world summons me to its small tragedies. Both demand the same thing: my undivided attention, my ability to see the unseen."
He swiveled his ergonomic chair slightly, gazing at the penthouse's glass wall. The lights of New York seemed to stretch into infinity, each one representing a life, a story, a secret. This was his domain, the vantage point from which he could touch any thread of the vast global tapestry. The idea that he was the richest man in the world, with his fortune surpassing the sum of all the fortunes on Forbes, seemed an insignificant detail compared to the complexity of human existence. Real power wasn't money, but access. Control. The ability to move pieces on a global chessboard that no one else saw.
While waiting for Henry to establish the connection – a process that would have taken mere seconds, given the superhuman efficiency of his team and the unlimited resources at their disposal, all powered by the computing power of theLakeside Technology Center, acting as his own personal CPU—Daniel allowed himself a brief digression. He thought of the countless times he had used his power: at 15, draining pennies daily from the accounts of drug dealers and terrorists, a theft so discreet it went unnoticed by the monsters who lived in the luxury of illegality. At 16, the raid on the world's banks, a penny per transaction, a constant trickle that turned into a deluge of wealth. And at 17, the moment when the information he provided led to the location of one of the world's most wanted figures, an act that, though anonymous, resonated across the planet. He was Ghost, a blank slate, with no documents, no recorded past, his only identity woven in the shadows of the Dark Web and the acts of invisibility that shaped the world.
A green light flashed on a small screen embedded in the corner of his desk. The line was ready. Henry had done it in less time than Daniel had anticipated, a testament to the urgency the butler felt behind his calm facade. Daniel took a deep breath, the melody of the Lakeside Technology Center servers in the background a reminder of the power he was about to unleash. He picked up the ergonomic headset, adjusting it gently. This wasn't a digital game with avatars; it was the voice of someone in real desperation, and Daniel needed to hear it before he could make his next move.
With a mental command, the connection was established. A faint hissing sound filled his ears, and then, a voice. A female voice, trembling, filled with exhaustion and barely contained panic."Help... do you really exist? I... I don't know what to do anymore. The police... they haven't found anything,"the woman stammered, with each word hope mixing with disbelief.
Daniel kept his voice neutral, devoid of emotion, a shield against the torrent of suffering trying to invade him. He knew that to be effective, he needed to be a rock."I'm Ghost. We've received your request. LAPD booking number 385472-6, missing child. I need details. Everything you know. No beating around the bush. No emotion. Just facts."His voice, though cold, carried an unquestionable authority, a silent promise that he was there to help.
There was a deep intake of breath on the other end, as if the woman were trying to catch her breath."Ethan... my son. He disappeared three days ago. In the park. We... we were there, and for a second, I turned to answer the phone, and he wasn't there anymore. The police said the cameras were broken. That they didn't see anything. But... he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just disappear like that."Her voice broke for a moment, a stifled sob.
"Park details. Exact time of disappearance. What were you doing on your phone? Was there anything unusual beforehand? People, cars?"Daniel pressed on, his eyes fixed on a blank screen, his mind already constructing a scenario, weaving threads of information. He could sense the woman's hesitation in recounting something so intimate and painful to an unknown voice, but the urgency to find her son was greater.
"It was... it was a coworker. About a project. I was about ten meters away from him, near the swings. It was around three forty-five in the afternoon. I swear it was only for a second. There was no one around. Just... a dark car parked near the exit, but I didn't pay attention. A sedan, I think. Tinted windows. And... and a man, kind of standing near a bush, he seemed to be talking on his cell phone. But I only caught a glimpse of him."Her voice trembled, each memory a stab.
"This man. Description. Anything about him?"Daniel persisted, his mind processing every word, the Lakeside Technology Center already in passive listening mode, ready to cross-reference any data he input.
"Tall. He was wearing a dark coat. A hat. I... I didn't see his face. His back was turned most of the time. And his phone... he seemed to be... filming or taking pictures of the park. It seemed strange at the time, but I was so distracted."She choked again.
"Where are you now? With whom?"Daniel asked, testing her confidence and the veracity of the situation.
"At home. With my husband. We're... we're waiting. No one knows what to do. I don't trust anyone anymore. I just... I just saw this email from you on a forum, desperate."
"Understood. Please stay home. Don't trust anyone else. Don't talk to anyone about this conversation. If there's anything else, let me know through the same channel. Is the phone you're using secure?"Daniel questioned, knowing that the source's safety was as important as the case's.
"Yes... it's a disposable one that Henry instructed me to use when I sent the email. He called me right after and said it was for my safety."The woman replied, a subtle relief in her voice, realizing there was a methodology, a protection behind Ghost's coldness.
"Good. Don't turn it off. We'll keep in touch through this channel. Don't move. Just wait."Daniel ended the call, the woman's shaky voice still echoing in his ears. The urgency of the situation was undeniable. The pain was real.
Still with the headset on, Daniel felt a dense silence fill the room, broken only by the barely audible hum of the Lakeside Technology Center servers, which, though geographically distant, reverberated in his mind like an extension of his own thoughts. His eyes, previously fixed on the blank screen, now moved rapidly across the monitors, already tracing the first lines of a digital attack plan. The woman had provided crucial pieces: the park, the time, the description of the dark sedan, the man in the hat, and, most importantly, the"failure"from LAPD security cameras.
"A failure, huh?"Daniel murmured into the air, a hint of irony in his voice. He knew that "failure" in situations like this was almost always synonymous with "interference" or "erasure." And the Los Angeles police force, one of the best equipped in the world, rarely failed so conveniently in a child abduction case. This, in itself, was a glaring anomaly. A red flag rising above the chaos.
His right hand moved with almost predatory fluidity over the holographic keyboard, while his left positioned the precision mouse. The room, previously illuminated by a soft blue glow, now pulsed with hues of green and yellow as new data panels opened and closed at rapid speed. It was as if the room had come to life, responding to his will.
The first target: thesecurity camera serversof the park. Daniel wouldn't limit himself to the city cameras the woman mentioned. He knew that in a dense urban area like Los Angeles, there was an invisible web of electronic eyes. Cameras at convenience stores, gas stations, banks—including those atATMs, with its wide angles and high resolution—even internet-connected residential cameras belonging to neighbors who might not even know their devices were broadcasting. He activated a deep scan protocol, an algorithm of his own creation that not only searched for active cameras, but also forresidual data, for unallocated