"The CIA sent people to Amsterdam?"
The moment Mo Nu reported the news, Chen Mo chuckled.
He'd anticipated this outcome. The IP address the CIA traced? Nothing but a dummy node—a disposable springboard set up by Mo Nu to relay their communications.
For someone like Mo Nu, every IP is real, and every IP is fake.
"Give them one hour. If they don't pay the ransom by then, they'll be responsible for what follows," Chen Mo said calmly. "After that, post on the dark web—CIA agent files for sale. Twenty million dollars each. Bitcoin only."
CIA Headquarters
When Linna saw the message from the Clown Organization on the dark web, her fury boiled over.
"How dare they?!"
She trembled like a bomb moments from detonation. The agents around her were terrified—this ruthless, always-in-control CIA Director was unraveling before their eyes.
But it wasn't surprising.
The world's top intelligence agency had just been toyed with by an anonymous hacker group.They were powerless, exposed, and humiliated.
After a long silence, Linna tried to pull herself together.
"Respond to them," she instructed coldly. "Tell the Clown Organization that if they return the stolen files, we won't pursue them. The CIA needs people with their skills. If they're willing to join us, we can give them anything they want."
The message was sent. But no reply came.
The atmosphere in the office became suffocating.Every minute dragged like an eternity.
No one dared breathe loudly.Everyone waited.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then the phone rang, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"The Amsterdam address was a dead end. There's no one there."
"Damn it!"
Linna slammed the desk, her fury contagious. Even the technicians looked enraged—they'd been played.
The eyes of everyone turned toward Linna. It was decision time.
"Director," one of the senior officials finally spoke. "Should we consider paying the ransom?"
All heads turned to him.
"If we pay, there's a chance they'll keep their word. If we don't, the intel will be leaked. It's a gamble—but right now, we have no other cards."
The room remained silent.
He continued:
"Think of that information as a $2 billion asset. Either we pay $500 million and protect it… or we lose everything. At least if we pay, we buy time."
Some executives nodded in agreement. Others looked conflicted.
"You're going to trust a terrorist?" Linna said, her voice like ice.
"When they kidnapped those cities, they did return control after getting paid. They want money—not chaos. If we don't pay, China, Russia, the Middle East… they'll be first in line to buy the files."
"Even if the intel leaks, I will not bow to terrorists," Linna snapped.
"And who takes responsibility?" another executive shot back. "If the CIA's network collapses, do you really think that's something you can 'own' on your own? This isn't just about you, Linna."
"I will take responsibility."
"With what? Your resignation? Your past scandals? This isn't about you. If those files leak, it's not just a matter of pride—it's a global security meltdown."
The argument escalated.
The room exploded into a war of voices. The CIA brass was now divided—one faction insisting on paying the ransom to mitigate the fallout, the other adamant about not surrendering to blackmail.
Time ticked by.
Then, the silence returned.
"The Clown Organization posted another tweet," a staffer said solemnly. "Since we failed to pay within the deadline, they've begun selling the CIA intelligence files. Twenty million per copy. They've already made deals with eight buyers."
A heavy stillness fell across the room.
"Are you satisfied now?" a senior executive said coldly, throwing a glare at Linna before walking out.
Linna's body trembled as she stormed back to her office. The moment the door shut behind her—
"F***! B****! Dog-bred Clown Organization—if I ever get my hands on you, I'll make you wish you were never born! AHHHH!"
Crashes echoed through the walls. Staff outside instinctively shrank back, unsure if she'd come out alive—or kill someone instead.
The CIA was in total chaos.
Meanwhile…
Far from the mess, Chen Mo sat leisurely in his lab, monitoring the global fallout like an audience member enjoying a front-row seat.
"As expected. They didn't pay."
If Linna had caved, he would've released the files anyway—ensuring her resignation. That had been his goal. While he didn't achieve it, the damage dealt to the CIA was more than enough.
To complete the act, he went ahead and sold some of the data. He didn't care who the buyers were.
The goal was revenge.And now… the score was settled.
"Chen Mo, what do we do now?" her hologram appeared beside him.
"We watch the show," Chen Mo said with a smile. "Let the story unfold."
In the Days That Followed…
The world watched in shock as the Clown Organization made good on their threat.They sold the CIA's most sensitive agent files—publicly.
The boldness of it sent ripples through every government and intelligence agency.
"Only one organization in the world would dare something like this."
Shortly after the announcement, the CIA issued a global wanted alert—offering a $30 million bounty for any Clown Organization member.
In the U.S., the scandal erupted into a firestorm.Public outrage, media backlash, and political protests filled the streets. The opposition party seized the opportunity, slamming the administration for incompetence.
The situation escalated into a full-blown national crisis.
But America wasn't the only one in chaos.
Other nations that received the leaked data acted quickly. The dismantling of the CIA's global network had begun.
In quiet corners of the world, actions unfolded behind closed doors:Officials were detained.Businessmen "disappeared."Some agents committed "suicide."Others fled before they could be caught.
The list spread, and so did fear.
In mere days, the CIA's decades-old intelligence network was shredded.
And now, the whole world asked one terrifying question:
Who's next?