Web Detectives Novels & Stories

"Trust me, I didn't do it for you my dear Alpha. Caroline would skin me alive with her new powers if she found out I didn't help you at all." Searching for traces of Stratovsky is not easy for us. Because both of them can hide their wolf scent perfectly, so we can't look for traces or clues in the traditional way for werewolves. I had to enlist the help of several Pack members who worked in the police force to find Viktor and Dimitri's faces through the city's traffic CCTV. It's really inconvenient, but fortunately, now there is a face detection device that makes it easy for us to scan every CCTV video recording.

The moment Grace saw Victor Lewis step out of the cab, she dashed forward and gave him a big hug. After that, she whispered in his ear, "I'm really counting on you this time, Victor." "Easy-peasy," Victor calmly replied. "I've already taken care of it on the way here." Smiling, Grace hooked her arms around his. "Really? I knew you were the best." "Such a honey tongue." He caressed her head affectionately. Victor worked at the National Cybersecurity Department and was ranked as the world's number one hacker on the dark web, known as AK.

A white eagle. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION – CYBER DIVISION. UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED. TRACE ACTIVE. And just like that, everything inside me froze.

One of them will bend, especially for the money. To their astonishment, an elite white-hat hacker responded to their request. His alias was Specter. His bio read: [“Ghost consultant” for intelligence agencies across Europe and America, helping trace terrorist communications, dismantle child trafficking networks, and neutralize cyber warfare threats. Morality is unconventional but unwavering: protect the innocent, expose the corrupt, no matter the cost.]

He would know what to do. But she wasn’t ready to admit weakness. Not yet. Instead, she powered up her secondary laptop and opened a dark net portal Marco had shown her long ago. A crawler. One that burrowed through underground pages—abandoned servers, corrupt forums, and decaying chatrooms. In the search bar, she typed: Velvet looks good soaked in blood. She pressed enter. The screen flashed, then lit up with dozens of broken links, closed portals… and one active video. Title: “Mother May I?”

1 internet criminal in the human world to hack any type of protection and I knew exactly how to protect a website. I currently received a request for creating an online shopping portal with some werewolves stuff included in it. And we have our own social media like Facebook which we call WereTimes, it was created by a group of genius werewolves with more firewalls. It had more facility than Facebook and we wolves love it. I don't have an account in WereTimes, but I maintain the 'New-tech park' official page. We use our page to promote our products.

[Dwolo Eyes - 2019, 01 April] Suspicious of an amateur journalist. Had followed some humans who he thought were vampires and wolf-shifters. One or two are actually them. Many take photos with very clear and good results. One photo shows a vampire on the edge of the forest, sucking the blood of a pig. It is too much evidence. Forced to erase some of his memory using Emergency-Hipno, and cover up the anomaly with a car accident. In the case of the shifters, it has been reported to the relevant people. Check, peruse, and double check. Everything has settled. [Tael Eyes - 2019, 01 August]

The room is silent except for the soft hum of electronics. 2:46 AM. 2:47 AM. My phone buzzes. The tech team erupts into motion, fingers flying over keyboards. On one monitor, I watch lines of code scroll past at impossible speed. The message appears on my screen: *Day three approaches. Will you confess your sins before the gathering, or will they force the truth from you? Either way, everyone will know what you really are. Sweet dreams, Luna – A Friend* “Got it,” one of the tech wolves says. “Tracing now shit, they’re bouncing through proxies. Hold on.” More typing. More code scrolling past.

Penelope burst into the room before Isolde and Dorian could even finish redressing. “Forget sleep,” she said breathlessly. “We’ve got a problem. And by problem, I mean a miracle wrapped in a middle finger.” Dorian sat up instantly. “Talk.” She turned her laptop toward them, fingers flying across the keyboard. “So, the feds’ official seizure of Velvet’s servers? Smoke and mirrors. What they got were the public-facing proxies. But while cross-referencing archived surveillance directories, I found this.” She tapped the screen. A drive ID. Unregistered. Offshore.