The air conditioning in the server room of Sterling Capital was kept at a crisp 60 degrees, but the junior analyst sweating through his Brooks Brothers shirt felt like he was in a sauna.
"It's happening again," the analyst whispered, staring at the Bloomberg terminal.
On the screen, a red line was bleeding through their proprietary algorithm.
Sterling Capital was a whale. When they moved, the ocean moved. But right now, something small, fast, and invisible was swimming inside their wake, taking bites out of their profit margins before they could even close their jaws.
"Who is it?"
"We don't know. The account is routed through three shell companies in the Caymans, but the execution speed... it's inhuman. It's anticipating our buy orders by three milliseconds."
The analyst swallowed hard. He had to make the call.
***
Julian Sterling didn't look at computer screens. That was for the help.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his 50th-floor Manhattan office, swirling a glass of thirty-year-old Macallan. Below him, the city looked like a circuit board. A circuit board he owned.
The heavy oak door creaked open.
"Sir," the Head of Risk Management, a man named Carter, looked pale. "We have a parasite."
Julian took a slow sip of the scotch. "A parasite?"
"A retail trader. Somehow, he's cracked the pattern of our 'Poseidon' algorithm. Every time we try to squeeze the shorts on Tesla futures, he enters the market, rides our wave, and exits before the dump. He siphoned four million dollars from us this morning."
Julian turned around. His face was a mask of bored perfection. High cheekbones, tailored Italian suit, eyes that looked dead inside.
"Four million," Julian repeated. "That's a rounding error, Carter."
"It's not the amount, sir. It's the method. He's mocking us. He left a digital signature in the order block."
Carter handed over a tablet.
Embedded in the transaction code was a simple ASCII art image: 🖕.
Julian's eye twitched. Just once.
"Trace it."
"We did. It bounces back to a residential IP in Detroit. A nobody. Name is Lucas Vance."
Julian laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound. "Detroit? A slum rat is stealing crumbs from my table?"
He set the whiskey glass down on his mahogany desk. The sound echoed like a gavel strike.
"I don't play games with insects, Carter. I step on them."
"Shall we counter-trade him?"
"No," Julian sneered, adjusting his silk tie. "That implies he is a worthy opponent. Call the SEC. Call his broker. Flag his account for 'suspicious activity' and 'potential money laundering.' Freeze his assets. Bury him in litigation so deep he won't be able to afford a bus ticket, let alone a lawyer."
Julian turned back to the window, dismissing the man.
"Remind the world, Carter. No one touches my money without bleeding for it."
***
**Detroit. The Zone.**
Lucas Vance sat in the dark.
The only light came from the six monitors arranged in a semi-circle around him. The room smelled of stale coffee and ozone. The peeling wallpaper of his apartment contrasted sharply with the $50,000 worth of hardware humming on his desk.
He wasn't looking at the charts. He was listening to the rhythm of the cooling fans.
*Click.*
On the center screen, a notification popped up. It was a bright, angry red.
**[ACCOUNT SUSPENDED]**
**[REASON: COMPLIANCE REVIEW - CODE 99]**
Lucas didn't blink. His heart rate didn't elevate.
He reached out, his pale, slender fingers hovering over the keyboard. He tapped the 'Enter' key once. Rhythmic. Calm.
His phone buzzed. An encrypted call.
"They froze it," a female voice hissed through the speaker. Elena.
"I see it," Lucas replied. His voice was flat, lacking the panic Elena expected.
"Lucas, that account had two million in liquid cash! They didn't just freeze it; they flagged your SSN. You're blacklisted. This is Sterling. It has to be. That arrogance has Julian Sterling written all over it."
Elena sounded like she was hyperventilating. "I told you not to poke the bear! You don't just front-run Sterling Capital and expect them to send you a thank-you card. They're going to send the Feds to your door."
Lucas picked up a lukewarm slice of pepperoni pizza. He took a bite, chewing slowly.
"Elena."
"What?!"
"How much did we lose?"
"Everything in that account! Two. Million. Dollars."
"Wrong," Lucas said. "We lost the bait."
Silence on the other end.
Lucas leaned forward, the blue light of the screens reflecting in his dark, intense eyes.
"Julian Sterling is predictable. He's an apex predator in a zoo. He thinks the walls protect him. He thinks if he calls the zookeeper, the problem goes away."
Lucas typed a command string into his terminal.
**> EXECUTE PHASE 2.**
**> REROUTING LIQUIDITY POOLS.**
"I knew he would freeze the account," Lucas explained, his voice dropping an octave. "That's why I needed him to focus on it. While his compliance team was busy locking down that account, they opened a backend query into my 'laundered' funds."
"Lucas... what did you do?"
"I let them in, Elena. I let their system shake hands with my server."
On Lucas's screen, a green progress bar appeared.
**[UPLOAD COMPLETE: TROJAN_HORSE.EXE]**
"He wanted to treat me like a bug?" Lucas whispered, a cold, terrifying smile finally touching his lips. "Now the bug is inside his operating system."
"You... you just infected Sterling Capital's internal trading network?" Elena asked, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and awe.
"He took my two million," Lucas said, watching the code cascade down his screen like a digital waterfall. "So I'm going to crash his portfolio and short the volatility. By the time the market closes today, Julian Sterling is going to wish he stayed in bed."
Lucas cracked his knuckles.
"Let's see how much blood a shark can lose before it drowns."
---