In his office, Li Jizheng was immersed in reports with his team leaders, analyzing the latest intel on suspected foreign informants.
Ever since he led the operation that dismantled the island nation's Lingjiao Group spy network, he'd been promoted and entrusted as Director of the Anti-Espionage Office—an elite division under the Ministry of National Security, tasked with hunting foreign agents embedded within China.
Their meetings were routine, focused, and silent—until a subordinate burst in, list in hand.
"Director! The Clown Organization just published a list of agents!"
Li Jizheng immediately dropped his pen and took the document, his expression turning grim.
Everyone in the room had heard of the Clown Organization—a cyberterror group responsible for paralyzing entire cities and now, most recently, hacking the CIA and claiming to have stolen its entire secret agent database.
In light of that, all confidential Chinese intel had been decoupled from online access. Their most sensitive archives were transferred to isolated emergency networks. Still, none of that guaranteed immunity.
The CIA's collapse was a chilling wake-up call—their elite systems had been breached with terrifying ease. No network felt safe anymore.
As he read the list, Li Jizheng's face darkened like the sky before a thunderstorm.
"Activate the teams. Arrest everyone on this list," he ordered, cold and unwavering.
"Director, could this be a fake list?" one team leader asked nervously. "Some of these identities are... extremely sensitive."
"There are ten countries on this list. Over two hundred names. The Clown Organization may be hackers, not spies—but I'd rather be wrong than let this slide. If it's fake, I'll take full responsibility."
His decision set off a storm.
Across the countries named in the list—China, Russia, Europe, the Middle East—anti-espionage agencies launched immediate raids. The first wave targeted the CIA's most important field agents and informants. No warnings. No hesitation.
The world had expected the climax to be the blackmail. But the sudden Twitter drop of names pushed the event to new, explosive heights.
Each country's list held just 20–30 names, but every individual listed had spent years, even decades, embedded deep within core national institutions. Some were top-level informants. Some were handlers. Some were moles planted in sensitive projects.
The outrage was volcanic.
As intelligence agents were quietly seized across the globe, foreign ministries lashed out at the U.S. in unified condemnation.
And in the public sphere?
The entire world was watching.
People speculated endlessly:Would the CIA pay the ransom?Could the Clown Organization be trusted?Would they publish more names—or sell the intel to America's enemies?
The internet buzzed like a hive.
Cybersecurity, once again, became the #1 global discussion, with fear rippling across governments, corporations, and ordinary households.
Back at the Core – Marching Ant Company
Chen Mo watched the chaos unfold from his study, calm as a mountain in a storm.
No one knew that the real force behind the Internet earthquake... was him.
Publishing the partial agent list had been a tactical strike. He knew the CIA would never bow to ransom demands, especially with someone like Linna in charge. She was too proud. Too predictable.
So he'd hit them where it hurt the most:Revealing the identities of their top global assets.
The damage would be catastrophic. Heads would roll. Agencies would burn.And Linna?
He already heard she'd been so furious she vomited blood.
That brought a rare smile to Chen Mo's lips.
After all, they had tried to kidnap him. Worse, they had hurt Xiaoyu.
Chen Mo's bottom line had been crossed. There would be no forgiveness—only punishment.
"Mo Nu, send the second message to the CIA."
CIA Headquarters
Linna staggered behind a technician, her steps unsteady, but her expression cold as ice.
On the screen was a new email—from the Clown Organization.
"What's their message?" she asked through clenched teeth.
The technician stepped aside so she could read it herself.
It was simple, brutal:
"You have two days. Pay the ransom—or face the consequences."
Her hands trembled. "They still want ransom?"
The list the Clown Organization had already released had taken years—even decades—to build. The people on it had infiltrated governments, defense ministries, major corporations.
And in a single post, it had all been reduced to ash.
She had already coughed blood from the sheer fury.
Now, they had the audacity to demand $500 million in Bitcoin.
"Can we track their IP?" she snapped.
"The tech team is working on it," a subordinate answered.
"Stall them," Linna ordered. "Ask how we can be sure they won't sell the data to someone else after payment. Tell them we need more time to raise the full amount. Meanwhile, trace their location—use everything we've got."
No one dared object.
"They responded," another technician reported quickly. "They said they will 'honor their word.' But we have no choice but to believe them."
"Damn it…" Linna cursed, fists clenched. "Tell them we can't raise $500 million so quickly."
"Their reply: 'Then send everything you can raise.'"
"We've traced their IP! Amsterdam!"
The room snapped to attention.
"Good. Ask them for trade details—how and where to transfer the funds. Keep them talking. Don't tip them off."
Within seconds, an alert was issued.
The CIA's European agents were mobilized immediately.Orders: Apprehend the Clown Organization at all costs.