Chapter 13 – HydraCorp's Shadow
The rain drizzled over Manila, streaking long gray lines across the single dusty window of Rafael's "office"—a rented storage unit hastily converted into AquaPure's headquarters. The desk was nothing more than a salvaged folding table, wires snaking across its surface. Stacks of half-assembled straws filled plastic bins along the wall, their faint smell of resin mixing with damp concrete.
In the middle of it all floated the Codex's pale-blue projections, bathing Rafael's tired face in light.
"HydraCorp Countermeasures Detected."– Lobbying for bid disqualification– False news campaigns labeling AquaPure as 'unregistered'– Attempts to bribe procurement officials– Possible surveillance of AquaPure warehouse
Rafael clenched his jaw. HydraCorp wasn't wasting time. The giant had noticed the mosquito buzzing near its ear.
"They think I'm just a small fish," he muttered.
The Codex responded in its calm, clinical voice:"Correction: You are a small fish. Recommendation: Bite sharper than the sharks."
The first strike landed two days later.
A blog article circulated through Manila's social media feeds:
"Shady Company Bidding for Government Water Contract – No Track Record, Possible Scam."
It spread like a grease fire. Neighborhood gossip swirled. Workers whispered while their hands twisted plastic tubing.
"Boss… is it true?" Jericho, the wiry seventeen-year-old, asked hesitantly. His hands stilled on a half-finished filter, eyes searching Rafael's face.
Beside him, Aling Rosa clucked her tongue, her voice low. "Ay, anak, I told you these big companies play dirty. They'll paint you black before you even stand." Her calloused hands kept moving, but her humming had gone quiet.
Even Kuya Bong, the tricycle driver, leaned against the doorframe, helmet under one arm. "People are saying you'll get shut down, boss. Careful. Some of my passengers were laughing at AquaPure already." He wasn't mocking—he looked worried.
Rafael met their eyes and gave the faintest smile. "Let them talk. Soon they'll see."
His calm steadied them more than any speech could. Work resumed, though the air felt heavier.
That night, Rafael fed the article into the Codex. The text dissolved into streams of data, reorganizing into tactical blueprints.
"Plan Generated: Information War Counterattack."
Step 1: Leak verified lab test results showing AquaPure's filters outperform HydraCorp's outdated tech.Step 2: Use local social media micro-influencers—cheap, authentic voices trusted by their barangays.Step 3: Quietly seed rumors of HydraCorp's corruption, amplifying what people already suspect.
Rafael's lips curled into a smirk. "So they want dirty games? Fine. I'll play cleaner… but deadlier."
Across the city, inside HydraCorp's Makati skyscraper, the storm gathered in another form.
The boardroom gleamed with polished wood and dim recessed lighting. Outside the glass walls, rain streaked down the skyline. Inside, tension thickened like smoke.
"Sir, the smear campaign's out, but it isn't slowing AquaPure's sales," said Victor Tan, the young analyst who always seemed one word away from stammering. His glasses fogged slightly in the cold air-conditioned room as he shuffled his notes.
At the far end of the table sat Executive Director Ramon Villanueva, sharp-suited, his gaze like sharpened steel. He tapped a Montblanc pen against the mahogany, each click echoing.
"Annoying," Ramon murmured. His voice was calm, but the kind of calm that came before violence. "Who's behind AquaPure?"
"On paper?" replied Joel Marquez, the scar-jawed operative who had traded fieldwork for corporate paychecks. He leaned back in his chair, voice low, steady. "Nobody. Rafael Dela Cruz. No backers, no history. A ghost."
Ramon's gaze hardened. "Then he shouldn't still be standing." He set the pen down with a decisive snap. "Send someone to… remind him of his place."
Silence settled over the table. Everyone knew what "remind" meant.
Victor swallowed. Joel only nodded, as though it was business as usual.
Back in the warehouse, the rain hammered the roof like a war drum. Rafael tightened the bolts on the front lock, his reflection fractured in the rusted padlock's metal.
The Codex's whisper reached him through the storm:"Threat: Physical intimidation incoming. Probability of confrontation: 84%. Prepare countermeasure."
He sighed, setting down his half-empty coffee. His workers were already home, unaware of the shadows creeping closer.
"So it begins," Rafael murmured.
As thunder cracked above Manila, AquaPure's founder stood alone in his dimly lit warehouse, readying himself for HydraCorp's next move—a move that would test not just his strange system, but the raw edge of his will to survive.