"Hey, have you noticed the Australia branch's been getting way more missions this year?"
The guy next to Niel spoke mid-chew, spraying a bit of spit as he did. Niel shot him a glare sharp enough to kill and shifted his chair away. The man on Niel's other side instinctively scooted over too.
Derek, realizing he was still under fire from Niel's eyes, muttered, "Sorry, sorry," and quickly swallowed his food. Then he went on, "It's just, seriously, there's way too much going on. Mafias acting out in the open like they don't even care anymore, bomb threats popping up, and rumor has it both Russia and the U.S. are cooking up some new kind of weapon."
He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. "Not to mention all these new types of drugs showing up in different countries, stuff way more destructive than anything before. I mean, yeah, none of this is new exactly, but this year… I don't know, it feels like everything's going off at once."
What Derek said wasn't wrong. None of these were unfamiliar crimes, and it wasn't just the U.S. and Russia involved in developing new weapons. Many countries were doing the same. It was as if, despite the world being filled with 'independent' nations, a looming fear of war kept everyone on edge— fueling their drive to fortify themselves, be it through economic strength, education, healthcare, national security, military force, or weaponry. But even among all of them, those two countries still stood out the most.
During his time working here, and even back when he was still living at home— Niel had often heard those kinds of discussions. After all, Arkan, the company, also had a hand in weapons trade, operating under an alias in the underground world. Arkan was widely recognized for its cutting-edge technology— ranging from machinery, electronics, and just about everything within the realm of engineering. Its cars were especially renowned. On the surface, no one knew Arkan was also producing weapons.
"The worrying part is cyberattacks."
David nodded while listening to what Derek had just said.
"That's harder to track since we're dealing with invisible enemies. Oh, right, Niel, weren't you the one trying to trace that virus before the U.S. election a few years ago?"
Pausing mid-bite, Niel didn't really like talking while eating, and David knew that. He just didn't care. Flashing a smile at Niel, David added,
"I heard you got another offer recently, some important person, big paycheck huh."
Niel rolled his eyes. He set the half-eaten sandwich back on his plate and answered with visible reluctance, "I turned them all down. And that thing a few years ago… I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice."
"You always say that, but you still finished the job."
"What else could I do? I needed the money. Back then, I barely had any. I was really, really broke."
Niel said it with a dead-serious expression, clicking his tongue at the memory, one that clearly wasn't a good one. A few instructors seated at the same table overheard and glanced over, wearing looks of disbelief at what Niel had just revealed.
And who could blame them? Hearing someone from the Arkan family say they were short on money felt like getting slapped in the face with a steaming pile of shit— especially for people whose bank accounts couldn't even compete. If someone like Niel said he was broke, then the rest of them might as well admit the money in their accounts was just dust.
But the thing was, Niel said it with such unwavering seriousness that it was hard to dismiss his words as a mere sarcasm.
Niel also wasn't the type to fake humility just to fish for praise.
"What? You didn't have money? It'd be easier to believe you were planning to punch the president than to believe that."
Derek burst out laughing, bits of food spraying again, earning another sharp glare from Niel.
In nervousness, Derek clamped his mouth shut and quickly turned his attention to Akash, who was opening the fridge and pulling out a few cans of beer. Akash brought them over to the table. He'd already finished his meal, but the expression on his face made it clear he wasn't about to miss out on this conversation.
"I'm telling the truth."
Niel stressed each word, his tone leaving no room for doubt. He wasn't lying.
Back then, he returned nearly all the money he had in his account— most of it coming from Arkan— leaving only a small amount behind. That was when he started to work at IHPS California while finishing his degree. Niel had graduated earlier than most people typically did, thanks to his intelligence and the fact that he had studied at Arkan beforehand.
Truthfully, even without a degree, plenty of people didn't care whether he had one or not. They already knew just how smart and gifted he was. None of them cared for formalities— they only wanted one thing: to get Niel on their side, however they could.
"Why? Did your bank account get hacked? Or did you go bankrupt after investing everything in stocks that suddenly crashed? Or maybe you gambled it all away? Or .... Ah, did you trade it all in for bitcoin? Yeah, I remember… There was even news about people committing suicide back then because bitcoin tanked so hard..."
"Stop asking. It's none of your business."
"Ah, as friendly as ever…"
Derek didn't press further— clearly seeing that Niel had shut the conversation down with no room left to pry. He returned to his meal without another word.
Niel had never bought stocks, let alone gambled— and if someone ever managed to hack his account, then that person would have to be an absolute idiot. Besides, Niel would never let something like that happen.
It happened a few years ago, right after he decided to cut all ties with Arkan and returned every penny he had back into his father's account. Niel knew that every month, Logan would send profit shares under his name, but Niel never touched a single cent of it. He returned everything, including the small leftover balance, leaving just enough dollars to cover his food expenses for a few days until he could wait for his next paycheck from IHPS.
Coincidentally, he was approached by the secretary of a presidential candidate who complained about repeated cyberattacks and viruses, relentless even after multiple security upgrades.
In fact, they could have gone directly to Arkan's leadership for technical assistance—or even hired someone from Arkan to reinforce their cybersecurity. But at the time, the government was clearly holding back— purposefully avoiding any involvement with Arkan.
First, because Arkan didn't seem fully loyal to the country it was based in. Second, because Arkan maintained close ties with rival nations. And third, if they did seek Arkan's help, they knew the company would demand substantial returns.
At that point, both sides were locked in their own pride. Arkan stayed true to its principle of prioritizing business above all else. After all, when you're marketing a product across multiple nations, displaying open bias can only lead to loss.
That kind of intimidation from the government wasn't just a one-time thing— it had happened repeatedly since Arkan was founded.
So, somehow, word got out that Niel no longer wanted any connection with Arkan, even though he never publicly announced it. The media seemed to have picked up on an anonymous source spreading the narrative that "The son of the Arkan family refuses to work with his own family." As a result, many people from various countries started reaching out to him, implying they could offer him greater benefits than working with his family ever could.
Fortunately, he was still under contract with IHPS at the time, so the media spun Niel's actions as nothing more than a spoiled child rebelling by joining IHPS, an institution known for its neutrality and refusal to side with any nation or ideology.
So the moment they made him the offer, Niel had seriously considered turning it down. But because he was in desperate need of money, he figured there was no harm in using his skills to earn it quickly.
However, when Niel began analyzing the origin of the virus, it felt like stepping into a tunnel he thought would lead him out— only to find a pit of mud waiting at the end, ready to drag him in even deeper.
The virus had originated in Russia, designed to breach confidential government files. And the bad news? They had already managed to extract a small percentage of those critical documents, though only a little.
At one point, Niel considered simply reinforcing the system's security without disclosing which country was behind the attack. He knew revealing that could inflame tensions, especially when rumors about rising friction between the two nations were already circulating.
He had even identified the individual responsible for creating the virus. But in the end, while Niel did reveal which country the attack originated from, he deliberately withheld the name of the person behind it. Instead, he claimed it was the work of an underworld mafia trying to profit by selling stolen data.
Granted, the documents they obtained were important— but not significant enough to be used for anything truly damaging.