Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 455

The moonlight shifted across the balcony.

Lines of data code flashed continuously on the computer screen.

In the time it took Cyril to turn around and grab a glass of water, fifty-two accounts had been locked down in sequence.

"..."

The young man raised an eyebrow. He had underestimated her. He figured she would have a backup plan, but he hadn't expected her to move this fast.

Cyril took a sip of water, slowly sat back down in his chair, and typed a few commands with one hand. Fifty-two dialog boxes popped up simultaneously.

He took a casual glance, and the warmth instantly vanished from his eyes.

This was what she considered "no benefits"?

This was what she meant by "didn't do anything"?

An endless stream of explicit videos flooded the screens.

She was living a more luxurious life than the Queen of Solenforth.

"..."

In just one short minute, the young man, who prided himself on his mental fortitude, found himself rendered completely speechless twice. Just as he was debating whether to keep digging, the chat log of one particular account caught his eye.

[Boss, I found out who Serena Lowe has been secretly seeing!]

[?]

[It's the Secretary General of Merriton City, Dorian Ravenshire.]

[.]

[Boss, I received the payment. Do you still want to keep investigating?]

[Yes.]

[Boss, here is the list of wives Serena has been socializing with recently. Also, last night I checked her phone while she was asleep and got the man's contact info.]

[1XX-XXXXXXX]

[Got it. The money has been transferred.]

[Boss, still investigating?]

[Investigate.]

Cyril's expression instantly grew heavy. She was investigating Serena Lowe? Investigating his mother?

Why?

Cyril's eyes darkened, the screen full of data reflecting in his deep pupils.

He was being tracked?

Cyril lowered his gaze and casually shoved his glass to the side.

*

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of Stormhollow Deepwater Port.

Inside an abandoned steel mill.

A man stood with a cigar between his fingers, his boots propped up on the windowsill, his back turned to the rusted iron door.

"Boss," a bald man in a black tank top walked in from outside.

The man flicked his ash, his voice low. "Found a lead?"

The bald man scratched his shiny head and yelled behind him, "Get your ass in here and tell him yourself!"

As soon as he spoke, a teenager wearing glasses walked in. "Boss, the data's been wiped."

The man's fingers paused mid-flick.

The teenager pushed up his glasses. "The other party was clearly prepared for this. Ten of us spent over twenty hours trying to trace it, but the moment we set up the database, they reacted. Not only did they wipe all the accounts, but they also hacked into our data terminal. Boss, our location has been compromised."