Chapter 3

The moment the money hit my account, I canceled my old phone number, changed my address, and hit the enter key.

That was the final failsafe the original owner of this body had left behind.

It was a time-delayed logic lock.

Once I, the admin account holder, processed my own resignation from the backend, the entire core system of the Newark Group would begin its countdown to self-destruction.

While I sat back in peace, counting my money, all hell broke loose inside the Newark Group tower.

"Mr. Newark! We have a major problem!"

The tech director stumbled into the chairman's office.

"Every encrypted file is locked! The client database is sealed off! There's nothing on the system screen but a red countdown clock. It says… it says we have twenty-four hours before all the data gets wiped!"

"What?!"

The coffee cup shattered in Gary's hand.

"Quick! Get Cathleen in here! She built this system. She'll know what to do."

Half an hour later, they rushed Cathleen from the beauty parlor straight to the company.

In the tech department, dozens of eyes locked onto her like she was their only savior.

"Cathleen, hurry—unlock this logic lock!" Gary's forehead dripped with sweat. "The board of directors is blowing up my phone!"

Cathleen sat down at the master control terminal. She stared at the screen—dense, alien lines of code that might as well have been written in another language. Cold sweat soaked through her back in an instant.

What did she know about code?

Whenever a problem came up before, she'd just whine and throw a tantrum at home until the original owner of this body pulled an all-nighter to fix it. Then she'd take the USB drive to the office the next day and claim the credit.

But now, the original owner was gone, along with 10 million dollars.

"I… I'll try…"

Cathleen's fingers trembled over the keyboard. She tapped a few keys. The screen flashed a giant red skull, followed by a piercing alarm.

[UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS. COUNTDOWN REDUCED TO 12 HOURS.]

"Cathleen! What did you just do?!" the tech director screamed.

Gary stared at his prized daughter in disbelief. "Cathleen… do you even know what you're doing?!"

Cathleen burst into tears. "Dad… I… I forgot the key. Abby must have changed the password…"

"You useless fool!" Gary slammed his palm on the desk. "Didn't you tell me you developed that system yourself?!"

The news couldn't be contained.

By that afternoon, word had already spread: the Newark Group's entire system was down, and their core data was on the brink of total loss.

The stock price crashed the moment trading opened. Billions in market value evaporated overnight.

The board of directors issued an ultimatum: if the system wasn't restored by tomorrow morning, Gary would resign in disgrace.

Back at the Newark family villa, Cathleen curled up in the corner of the sofa, listening to her father's roar echoing from the study.

She knew the truth. She was finished. If she couldn't fix this, she wouldn't just lose her inheritance—she'd become the laughingstock of the entire elite circle.

"This is all Abby's fault… that bitch did this to me…"

A flash of venom lit up Cathleen's eyes.

If the gentle approach wouldn't work, she'd play hardball. All she had to do was catch Abby, force her to hand over the password, and squeeze that ten million back out of her. Then, stage a little accident. Make the problem disappear for good.

Her hands shaking, she pulled up a number stored in her encrypted photo album and dialed.

"Hello? Justin? I need you to kidnap someone for me…"