Liu Mingchuan entered the HR office and saw the other team leaders follow him in.

  "Alright, everyone, calm down," he said. "Get Zheng Yongjun on the phone and tell him to return to the office ASAP. He should have the latest antivirus software. Don’t shut down any infected computers—you'll risk losing all the data. But go ahead and unplug the network cables."

  After a moment’s thought, he added, "And if a computer’s off, leave it be. Oh, and have Gong Hai come here."

  He suddenly noticed that Zhou Xiaoxiao’s computer was still on, so he reached over and turned on the monitor.

  To his surprise, the screen wasn’t blue—it displayed the desktop normally.

  "That’s weird. This one doesn’t seem infected," Han Donghua remarked, equally puzzled.

  Liu Mingchuan tried clicking to open File Explorer, but the computer instantly froze. No matter how much he clicked, there was no response.

  "This is acting differently from the others," another team leader noted.

  Liu Mingchuan then turned on Fang Yuan’s computer, which quickly displayed the blue screen.

  Just then, Gong Hai walked in.

  "Explain this—how did the virus activate the moment Fang Yuan’s computer was turned on?" Liu Mingchuan demanded.

  "Director Liu, I swear, I really don’t know. I was there when it happened. I’d just booted it up and was poking around in the network settings, checking for remote connections, when BAM! It blue-screened. I think the computer was already infected, just dormant. Turning it on triggered the virus."

  Liu Mingchuan frowned, clearly convinced Gong Hai’s version was accurate—Fang Yuan’s computer must have been compromised earlier.

  Suddenly, he remembered Li Chunfeng’s suggestion: since they had separated internal and external networks, non-R&D computers should be on the external network. But another executive had insisted on unified management, which led to all computers being placed on the internal network, with only field staff receiving laptops.

  Now, this decision had caused a serious incident. For the company, it was truly a case of "misfortunes never come singly."

  Liu Mingchuan looked at the team leaders. "Everyone knows this is a critical moment for the company. Tonight’s virus incident must stay confidential. Once Zheng Yongjun arrives, send him to my office."

  With that, he left HR and returned to his own office.

  The severity of the attack led Liu Mingchuan to suspect deliberate sabotage rather than accidental infection.

  He suddenly remembered something and took out his phone to call.

  "Kevin, I need your help. Our internal network’s been hit by a virus—all computers are blue-screened, and we don’t know how much data has been lost."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "Alright, I’ll be there soon."

  After hanging up, Liu Mingchuan briefed the other senior executives, each explanation filled with reassurances and guarantees. They also agreed to hold an emergency meeting the next day, particularly to question Fang Yuan about how her computer became infected.

  Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Zheng Yongjun entered.

  "You're aware of the situation?" Liu Mingchuan asked grimly.

  Zheng Yongjun nodded. "Director Liu, there’s something else. Earlier today, I was preparing to wipe Li Chunfeng’s computer when it seemed to get infected. After reformatting it, everything was fine."

  "What?! Li Chunfeng’s computer had a virus? That’s impossible," Liu Mingchuan said, refusing to believe it.

  "I swear, I don’t know either. Later, the public server on the internal network also crashed in a strange way. I ran a scan with our new antivirus software and found nothing. Since I had personal matters to attend to, I left early. I didn’t expect Fang Yuan’s computer to trigger a virus outbreak—it must have happened after I left."

  "Alright, use the new antivirus to process the computers one by one. Try to recover as much data as possible. Also, check the servers, especially the code repository."

  "Got it. I’ll get to work." Zheng Yongjun hurried out.

  Liu Mingchuan leaned back in his chair, exhaustion plain on his face.

  After a moment, he checked his phone. Kevin should arrive soon. He stood and headed to the reception area to meet him.

  Kevin was a renowned white-hat hacker and an old friend. He lived nearby and was likely our best chance to recover some data.

  Before long, Kevin arrived—a pale, slightly disheveled young man in his twenties, carrying a black leather bag.

  "Just take me to the d*mn thing," he said unexpectedly, cutting straight to the point.

  Liu Mingchuan led him to HR. The lights were still on, and both Fang Yuan’s and Zhou Xiaoxiao’s computers were powered up.

  Kevin examined Fang Yuan’s blue-screened computer, a flicker of confusion passing over his face.

  He sat down, pulled out a USB drive from his bag, and plugged it into the machine. He then restarted the computer.

  A command-line interface appeared.

  Kevin typed rapidly, and the screen scrolled through lines of code.

  Ignoring the output, he continued entering commands.

  After about ten seconds, the screen froze, displaying a single word:

  Redrain

  Kevin’s expression darkened. He looked up at Liu Mingchuan. "What’d you guys do to piss off ‘Red Rain’?"

  "Who’s that?" Liu Mingchuan asked, alarmed by Kevin’s tone.

  Kevin sighed heavily. "Red Rain is a hacker who shot to fame about a year ago. No one knows their gender, age, or anything about them. But they were responsible for last year’s attack on Imperial City’s e-commerce platform."

  "Weren’t people saying that was the work of Tianfang’s famous hacker?"

  "Think your company might’ve rubbed him the wrong way? This isn’t routine stuff. In hacker circles, Red Rain leaves their mark—whether they’re intruding or doing other things, they always display their name. It’s like a taunt.

  "I once saw a worm virus they released. The blue screen made me suspect their involvement. Just now, I used a scanning command they posted on a hacker forum, designed to find their signature, and—sure enough—it was them.

  "The virus is a hybrid—combining features of CIH and Panda Burning Incense. Extremely destructive. And it’s a self-destructive type—once triggered, it explodes and self-dismantles.

  "So your network may look clean, but all infected data’s probably gone. Hardware damage? That’s still unknown. I’ll have to manually check each system. Your IT guy will probably do the same."

  Kevin’s words left Liu Mingchuan stunned.

  "But why target us? And why use an employee to plant the virus internally? We’re not that big a deal," Liu Mingchuan questioned.

  Kevin furrowed his brow. "You’re right. Maybe your company offended him somehow?"

  Liu Mingchuan suddenly remembered something and led Kevin to Zhou Xiaoxiao’s computer.

  "Take a look at this one. It was still online, and it didn’t blue-screen until I tried using it."

  Kevin conducted the same boot process. This time, he got no response—it was clean, or so it seemed.

  Perplexed, Kevin pulled out a CD, inserted it into the drive, and ran a deeper scan.

  After three minutes, the screen froze again, displaying two words:

  Thank you

  Both men stood there, completely stunned.