The entire online world was in chaos following the Clown Organization's sudden return. Headlines screamed cyberterror, experts argued on news panels, and forums exploded in speculation.
In a quiet study room far from the storm, the real mastermind—Chen Mo—sat calmly, the faint blue glow of his holographic interface reflecting off his eyes. By his side, the ink girl monitored the global response in real time.
This "Clown Organization" attack had been planned meticulously. It was his response—his retaliation. Some lines had been crossed. He would not let it slide.
"Mer brother, they've cracked the virus," the ink girl reported.
Chen Mo smiled. "Fast response."
"What's the next move?" she asked.
"Let the bullets fly for a while," Chen Mo said with a smirk. "It's not our turn to panic yet."
The virus had been intentionally left open to be cracked. If he'd wanted, he could've turned every CIA computer into a digital brick. But that wouldn't have matched the style of the Clown Organization. This had to feel authentic—chaotic, but restrained. A performance with layers.
And he wanted the CIA to know they'd been infiltrated. To lose sleep over it.
"Mer brother, Sister Xiaoyu's coming," the ink girl whispered.
As if on cue, a knock came at the study door, and Xiao Yu entered, her arm still in a sling but her face bright with color.
"Chen Mo, you've been in here forever. Zhao Jie and the others are outside. Even your mentor came over. Everyone's wondering where you are."
"Something came up," Chen Mo said sheepishly, glancing at the clock. Over 20 minutes had passed.
"You should've had the ink girl call me," he added as he got up and walked with her.
"I injured my arm, not my legs," Xiao Yu replied playfully. "The weather's perfect tonight, everyone's outside barbecuing. I came to drag you out."
"Alright, alright," Chen Mo chuckled.
When they stepped onto the lawn outside the villa, the grass was bathed in soft lighting. A lively barbecue was underway, holographic KTV lights flickering to the beat of background music. The older folks had turned in early, leaving the younger ones to enjoy the night.
Zhao Min, Xiao Man, and Zhang Xinxin were there, along with several of Xiao Yu's close friends—Li Ruojun, Zhou Wei, and Wang Xiaolan—all visiting to cheer her up.
Even the ever-serious Zhao Min had shed her CEO persona and was casually chatting with the girls, laughing freely, like an older sister next door.
When Chen Mo and Xiao Yu appeared, heads turned immediately.
"Chen Da Boss, hiding in the study while we're out here suffering? Not giving us face?" Zhao Min teased.
"Yeah, Chen Giant, are we not worthy of your presence?" Zhou Wei added, biting into a chicken wing.
Chen Mo grinned. "You ladies were talking shop—I didn't want to interrupt. Thought I'd leave you to it."
"Says the man who ditches all these beauties to play with code," Li Ruojun added with mock accusation.
Chen Mo shrugged playfully. "Well, someone had to keep an eye on world events. You hear? The Clown Organization's made a comeback and hit the CIA hard."
Zhao Min's eyes narrowed. She immediately took out her phone and opened a news app. Sure enough, headlines were ablaze with updates about the cyberattack.
"A computer virus?" Wang Xiaolan tilted her glasses. "Remember back in college when that virus 'Eternal Heart' wrecked everyone's PCs? We thought it was from that... ahem... video Xiao Yu opened."
"Oh!" Zhang Xinxin suddenly remembered. "Wasn't there a rumor someone was watching those kinds of videos in the library? Big sound, ran away embarrassed... wasn't that Chen Mo?"
"Ehh?"
Xiao Man burst into laughter, almost spitting out her wine. The other girls couldn't help but giggle, their imaginations running wild.
Xiao Yu covered her face, but her eyes were already crescent moons with laughter.
"In the library, Chen Mo?" Zhao Min leaned in with a wicked grin. "Xiao Yu, tell us more about this glorious moment."
"Yeah, I want the full story," Zhang Xinxin joined in, eyes twinkling.
Chen Mo sighed, rubbing his temple with a helpless smile. With his ancient black history now resurfaced, there was no escaping the roast.
He quietly backed away from the conversation and headed to the grill.
"Alright, what do you all want? I'll cook."
"Chicken wings!"
"Stuffed buns!"
"Eggplant!"
"Oysters!"
Chen Mo rolled his eyes. "Wow. You really came to work me like a laborer."
Still, he loaded the grill with their requests.
As he worked, the girls drifted away from the grill, laughing, singing, and enjoying themselves. Chen Mo watched Xiao Yu's smile under the night lights, her laughter bright and carefree.
This—this—was the kind of peace he liked. A normal, happy moment.
The next morning, after breakfast, Chen Mo headed to the company with Zhao Min.
Last night, the Clown Organization's statement had gone viral. The CIA hack had taken the world by storm, and the group's eerie reappearance made them the most searched name on the internet.
"The Clown Organization hijacked your headlines," Zhao Min said, handing over her phone.
Chen Mo glanced at it. News of his recent attack was being eclipsed by the global panic over the Clown's return.
"Better that way," he said. "I prefer peace."
Zhao Min gave a soft chuckle, then her face turned serious. "This attack's triggering a lot of heat. People are accusing us—again—saying the virus is written in our Chinese programming language and hinting we're behind the Clown Organization."
She continued, "The Clown Virus can't run on our Termite systems. To outsiders, that makes us look like beneficiaries."
Chen Mo just shook his head. "Same thing happened last time. People like to point fingers. Let them. We just keep doing our thing."
At the company, Zhao Min returned to her office to oversee communications strategy. Chen Mo made his way to Building 1, to the lab.
"Status report?" he asked.
The ink girl's hologram appeared beside him.
"The U.S. has issued a global wanted order—$20 million bounty on Clown Organization members. Every intelligence agency is moving. The internet's under heavy monitoring worldwide. In human terms? A storm's brewing. But none of them can detect me."
"Interesting side note," she added. "Some of the original Clown Organization members are trying to recover their old Twitter account."
Chen Mo's expression didn't change. "They're nervous. They think someone hijacked their identity. But that account's ours for now."
He turned to the transparent screen and stared at the swirling visuals.
"Begin phase two. Push out the next tweet. Don't use our IP."
"What's the message?" asked the ink girl.
Chen Mo's tone dropped to a razor's edge.
"The CIA computer breach was carried out by us. We possess their full secret agent database and classified intel. Ransom: $500 million USD, paid in Bitcoin. Deadline: 48 hours. Refusal to pay? You deal with the consequences."