Tuesday morning arrived.
PK didn't go to class.
He called in sick and left the dorm early, heading straight to his rented house.
By noon, everything was ready.
At the university, the day continued as usual—but the attention of the students was elsewhere. Conversations kept drifting back to one topic.
The final round of the International Hacking Competition.
The objective had already been announced, and that alone had fueled the hype.
Anonymous vs. Mr.Fool.
A legendary team against a newcomer.
No one knew whether Mr.Fool was a group or a single person. That mystery only made it more compelling. The entire class buzzed with speculation—especially after Lana and Luna's elimination.
At the organizers' control center, the atmosphere was tense.
A massive screen displayed system diagnostics, network maps, and live status feeds.
Two indicators turned green.
Anonymous — Online
Mr.Fool — Online
Both confirmed.
Both ready.
The countdown began.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The final round officially started.
Anonymous moved instantly.
Their team split into two units.
One focused purely on defense—locking down their infrastructure, rotating nodes, hardening routes.
The other launched the attack—probing, mapping, tracing.
They were disciplined. Experienced. Efficient.
Back in his rented house, PK sat alone.
Two monitors glowed in front of him.
Systems hummed steadily.
Logs streamed silently.
He opened a can of cola, took a slow sip, and set it aside.
Then his fingers moved.
He had no team to divide roles with.
He would attack and defend—simultaneously.
Traffic patterns shifted.
False routes unfolded.
Defensive layers adjusted in real time.
The room was quiet except for the rhythm of his typing.
Outside, the world watched a battle of names.
Inside this house, PK fought a war of precision.
And this time—
There would be nowhere to hide.