estiled back <b>onto </b>the couch with a sigh and reolled<b>, </b><b>“</b><b>Just </b>a pen.”
who <b>cherished </b>collecting masterces from renowned artists generally hailed from <b>cultured </b><b>and </b>schrly families, <b>and </b>gifting something as sophisticated as an item from a writer’s <b>set </b>was the perfect touch.
Mirabe <b>nodded</b>, not probing further. She drained herst cup of tea and stood <b><i>up </i></b><b>room</b>. Still got two essays to finish.”
“<b>Alright</b>, <b>don’t </b>stay up too <bte</b>,” Shawn <b>cautioned</b>.
“Mhm.”
“I’m heading to my.
With a polite nod to the others in the living room, Mirabe quickly gathered her things and retreated to her
room<b>. </b>
After a refreshing shower, she sat down at herputer desk, booted up herptop, and entered safe <b>mode </b>to punch in a series ofmands.
The screen soon turned <b>ck</b>, flickering with lines of code not much different from what she had seen on Curtis‘puter next door.
A minuteter, the disy shifted, filling with dense data parameters. After contemting briefly, Mirabe tweaked the firewall settings slightly. With the changes made, she hit the confirm button.
Theputer was off in no time, and Mirabe pulled out two essays from her bag, burying herself in academia.
Halfway through the first essay, her phone on the desk buzzed. She paused, nced at the screen, but ignored it, focusing on her writing.
Only afterpleting the second essay did she leisurely pick up her phone and check the messages.
Unknown sender: [Kid, can’t sleep without showing off your tech skills, huh?)
Unknown sender: [How about a little respect for the hard work of all the hackers out there, okay?)
Mirabe’s brows arched slightly, her slender fingers dancing across the keyboard as she typed back: [Oh, no can do. Even a kid’s gotta level up]
Unknown sender: […… Friggin‘ unbelievable!]
Elsewhere, Curtis‘ eyes were aze with excitement as he stared at hisputer screen, fingers flying over the keyboard. After half a month, he was on the verge of cracking the first level of security, a breakthrough that would bump him up in the rankings.
He took a deep breath and hit the enter key for the final step, but <b>instead </b>of the anticipated sess message, a ring red exmation mark popped up on the screen, freezing his triumphant expression <b>into </b>one of disbelief.
Failure<b>? </b>
Curtis rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing things? How could he have failed?
Wyatt, who was slumped over the back of his chair, yawning and resting his chin on his arms, askedzily, “Curtis, did you crack it yet<b>?</b><b>” </b>
Turning his head toward theputer, with half–lidded eyes, he caught sight of the red exmation mark
11:02:
ond shifted in his seat, saying, “Another fail<b>, </b>huh?”
Curtis pressed his lips together and sat in silence. The screen quickly reset to the <b>initial </b>interface, but <b>now </b>the difficulty level had changed from A to A+.
Curtis, with a dark expression, was <b>at </b>a loss for words. Dammit, could someone exin why the difficulty– level just spiked out of nowhere?!
He was so <b>close</b>!
Wyatt nced at Curtis, touched his nose, and muttered with a hint of skepticism, “Curtis, it seems like your skills are also… kinda not up to par.”
Curtis‘ temple twitched, and he mmed hisptop shut, turning a steely gaze on Wyatt. His tone wasced with threat. <b>“</b>You think you’re better? Be my guest!”
Wyatt recoiled slightly. It was just another failed attempt, not the first nor probably thest. Why the rage?