Chapter 7 — The Giant Strikes Back
The morning after the leak, Jane's apartment felt different.
It wasn't just her paranoia—though that pulsed sharp as caffeine through her veins—it was the atmosphere itself. Heavy. Pressurized. Like a storm crouching above the roof.
Her laptop notifications were endless. Emails from strangers, anonymous DMs, half of them praise, the other half venom. Journalists wanted interviews. Readers begged for more leaks. Authors screamed in gratitude—or fury—for exposing their hidden drafts.
And then, buried in the flood, a subject line that froze her blood:
"CEASE AND DESIST — Immediate Action Required"
Jane clicked.
The letter was clean, professional, merciless. Legalese filled the page, words sharp as knives: unauthorized access, intellectual property theft, damages in the millions.
They knew someone had infiltrated their servers.
They knew the stolen files were real.
And though her name wasn't on the letter, she could feel their eyes crawling toward her.
---
She shoved her chair back, heart pounding, just as Marta arrived.
"You look like you saw a ghost," Marta said, tossing her jacket onto the couch.
Jane held up the letter with trembling hands. "They're coming for us."
Marta skimmed it, then tossed it aside with a snort. "Of course they are. It's theater. They can't admit everything without incriminating themselves. This is just noise meant to scare you."
Jane shook her head. "Noise that can bankrupt me. Noise that can put me in prison."
Marta leaned forward, eyes burning. "Do you think revolutions happen without risk? They want you scared. Don't give them what they want."
---
But WebNovel wasn't just sending letters.
By evening, Jane's inbox was hit with a flood of spam: fake newsletters, phishing links, garbage meant to drown her real emails. Her phone lit up with unknown numbers, robocalls every five minutes.
And then the Twitter accounts began.
Anonymous profiles with no pictures, no history, suddenly attacking her with coordinated precision:
"This woman's a fraud."
"She stole other people's work."
"She's just bitter because she's untalented."
The smear campaign had begun.
Jane sat frozen at her desk as the wave of hate crashed in. "They're trying to erase me."
"No," Marta said calmly, "they're trying to drown you. But they forgot—you've already learned how to breathe underwater."
---
That night, Jane found her name trending.
#JaneLeeThief
#LibraryOfShadows
Two hashtags, locked in battle.
On one side: readers and writers praising her as a savior, a liberator of silenced voices. They shared screenshots of their "resurrected" drafts, thanking the anonymous leaker who had given them back their words.
On the other: coordinated posts, bots and angry authors alike, demanding she be punished. Some called for lawsuits. Some whispered about jail time. Others went further, digging for her real name, her address, her past.
One account posted a blurry photo of her apartment building.
Jane slammed her laptop shut, heart clawing at her ribs. "They know where I live."
Marta grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "Calm down. It's intimidation. Nothing more."
But Jane could see it—the giant waking, stretching, turning its gaze fully toward her.
---
The following morning, a knock rattled her door.
She froze.
Her mind spun with images: men in suits, police with warrants, handcuffs clinking.
Slowly, she opened the door—only to find a neighbor holding a misdelivered package. Relief poured through her like water, but the fear stayed, simmering beneath her skin.
She shut the door, locked it twice, then whispered to Marta, "They're going to crush me. They're too big. I can't fight them."
Marta's reply was quiet, but steady as steel.
"You already have. And now everyone's watching."
---
Over the next week, the world became a battlefield.
WebNovel filed official complaints with hosting providers, demanding takedowns of the leaked excerpts. Some sites caved. Others resisted, emboldened by the wave of public support for Jane.
Podcasts debated her morality: hero or thief? Activist or criminal?
YouTube essays titled "The Jane Lee Effect" racked up millions of views.
Everywhere she looked, she saw her name. Her face. Her cause.
And through it all, she kept writing—not fiction, but manifestos. Statements. Posts meant to feed the fire:
> "I am not a thief. I am a writer. Every story deserves to breathe. No corporation has the right to decide who gets to exist."
Her words spread like sparks across dry grass.
And though she shook with fear each time she hit "publish," she couldn't stop.
---
Then came the night when Marta stormed in, laptop in hand, eyes blazing.
"They're preparing a counterstrike," Marta said.
Jane swallowed hard. "What kind?"
Marta turned her screen toward Jane. It showed a screenshot of a dark web forum—anonymous posts from accounts claiming insider knowledge.
> "WebNovel hiring contractors. Private investigators. They want names, addresses, everything. They're not waiting for courts. They want to make an example."
Jane's mouth went dry.
"They're going to dox me."
"They're going to do worse," Marta said grimly. "They want to bury you so deep no one will dare follow in your footsteps."
Jane gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.
For the first time, the scale of what she'd unleashed pressed down on her like a mountain. She had woken the giant. And now, the giant was reaching for her with both hands.
---
But in the chaos, something else was happening.
Emails began trickling in from writers around the world—not strangers anymore, but allies. They called themselves "The Shadows."
"We want to help."
"We'll follow your lead."
"They can't silence all of us."
It wasn't just her fight anymore.
It was an uprising.
And Jane, trembling, terrified, half ready to run, realized she had become something she'd never dreamed of:
The face of a movement.