I didn't sleep. The combination of black coffee, the intellectual rush, and the subtle, burning aftertaste of the perfect spicy noodles had kept me tethered to the workstation. The final report on Onyx Solutions was ready, a brutal, forensic indictment of Chen Ming's calculated, slow-drip treason.
The private lift chimed at 5:30 AM, precisely when Lu Wei had expected the report. He stepped out, already in his morning armor—a crisp white shirt, the tie precisely knotted—but his eyes held a predatory intensity that betrayed the early hour.
He walked past the untouched breakfast laid out by the chef and straight to the screen. He read the final summary:
Lu Wei's jaw, already severe, hardened further. He didn't thank me. He didn't praise the analysis. He simply confirmed the strategy.
"You have confirmed my hypothesis," he stated, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "He will be brought into the War Room at 7:00 AM for an 'emergency meeting.' We will expose him then."
"Exposure isn't enough," I countered, pushing back from the desk. My adrenaline was spiking again. "If he's a self-preservationist, he has already put a failsafe in place. You need to know what data he sold, and what the Consortium of the Shadow Tide is using it for. Simply firing him will just send him running to his true masters."
Lu Wei paused, his hand hovering over the lift button. He finally looked at me, a profound, chilling respect in his gaze. "A sound tactical assessment. We will use the exposure to force the truth."
"Then I need to be there," I insisted, standing fully. "I need to see his reactions, his tells. I am the only one who truly understands the logic of the financial flaw."
His silence was a dangerous calculation. He was deciding whether my presence was a greater security risk or a necessary weapon.
"You will be there," he finally confirmed. "But you will not speak. You are a silent observer. If I detect a single sign of risk, you will be escorted back to this floor immediately."
The atmosphere in the Executive War Room on the 60th floor was falsely calm. Sun Xing was already present, meticulously preparing his public relations strategy for the "breach." He looked at me with open curiosity, now fully aware of my high-level involvement.
At precisely 7:00 AM, Chen Ming strode in, radiating confidence, a charming smirk on his face. He made a point of nodding dismissively toward me—the "rural auditor."
"Morning, gentlemen," Chen Ming greeted, his voice smooth. "Lu Wei, I trust the emergency is worth pulling me from my very critical venture capital meeting."
Lu Wei sat at the head of the table, his demeanor glacial. "The emergency is internal, Chen Ming. It concerns the Obsidian File leak."
"Ah, the leak," Chen Ming replied, pulling out his chair with a theatrical flourish. "Tragic. I've instructed my legal team to work pro-bono to assist the investigation. We must be relentless, no matter who the traitor turns out to be."
I watched him—his posture, his eyes, his carefully chosen words. He was perfectly controlled, arrogant enough to believe his façade was unbreakable.
Lu Wei nodded toward the massive holographic screen. "Indeed. And relentless analysis found a single flaw."
The screen flickered, instantly displaying the flowchart I had created: the eight distinct $49,000 transactions, the routing through Onyx Solutions, and the highly irregular authorization protocols signed by Chen Ming himself.
Chen Ming's smirk did not drop immediately. There was a fraction of a second where his eyes flicked, not to the screen, but toward the corner of the room where a subtle, encrypted communications hub was located. It was a perfect, internal tell.
"Lu Wei, what is this nonsense?" Chen Ming laughed, a sound that was suddenly brittle. "Offshore consulting is routine. Those are standard, low-level legal fees. You're wasting time with conspiracy theories."
Sun Xing looked genuinely shocked, scanning the data and then his friend. "Ming, this looks... irregular. Why the small, consistent amounts?"
"It's an audit error!" Chen Ming snapped, his charm dissolving into panic. He slammed his hand on the table, finally losing his cool. "You're accusing me of selling the Obsidian File over petty legal fees?"
Lu Wei leaned forward, his voice a lethal whisper. "You didn't sell the Obsidian File, Chen Ming. You sold something far more valuable: access to our internal algorithms."
"The Obsidian File," Lu Wei continued, his gaze pinning Chen Ming, "is merely a decoy. It contains a highly classified AI-driven market projection code designed to track the financial collapse of global energy futures. It's a bomb, not a ledger."
I realized then the truth of the scheme. The chemical schematics I had downloaded were a distraction. The Consortium didn't want the file; they wanted to manipulate the file's output.
"You gave the Consortium the decryption key and the access protocols to invert the projection algorithm," I stated, breaking my silence, unable to hold back the analytical truth. My voice was calm, cutting through the panic. "They can now force the algorithm to generate an artificially catastrophic market collapse prediction—a projection so believable, so complex, that major global banks will act on it. They are not stealing your money, Chen Ming; they are hijacking your credibility to crash the global market and profit from the chaos."
Chen Ming's face went from pale to grey. He stared at me—the "rural auditor"—with pure, murderous hatred.
"You! You pathetic little relic!" he shrieked, pointing at me. "Lu Wei, you let this nobody in here?! She's a thief, a freeloader who nearly went to prison!"
Lu Wei ignored him. "The question is, Chen Ming, what is your failsafe? What is the trigger that alerts the Consortium that you have been exposed?"
Chen Ming made a desperate, lethal move. With a sudden, explosive burst of adrenaline, he vaulted over the table, not toward Lu Wei, but toward the encryption hub in the corner—the one I had seen him glance at earlier.
"If I go down, Lu Global goes down!" he roared.
Lu Wei moved faster. He intercepted Chen Ming midway, his larger frame slamming the traitor against the glass wall with a sickening thud. The confrontation was brutal, swift, and entirely physical.
As Lu Wei wrestled Chen Ming to the floor, Chen Ming managed to pull a small, sleek device from his inner pocket—a single-press panic button.
"The trigger is the Obsidian code release!" Chen Ming screamed. "The Consortium gets the full file in 30 seconds!"
Lu Wei roared a command to Sun Xing: "Lock down all Level-4 servers! Now!"
But it was too late. The Consortium now had the full, catastrophic algorithm.
Lu Wei finally subdued Chen Ming, his control absolute, the traitor's face smashed against the floor. He stood over him, breathing heavily.
"He triggered the release," Lu Wei stated, turning to face me, his shirt slightly torn, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and professional terror. "The Consortium has the full file. We have less than twelve hours before they invert the algorithm and execute the collapse."
He walked straight to me, his hands gripping my shoulders, his intensity searing. "You know the logic of the flaw better than anyone. There is no one else. Your gilded cage is broken. You are now free to save the company, Xu Ling. Your life—and the fate of the global market—depends on you."