The smell of damp and mold hung in the air of the dilapidated hangar. The only light source was a dim lamp hanging from a sagging beam. The user, a young hacker, watched the Merchant, a large man with a scarred face, with bated breath. There was a package of white powder on the rusty table between them. The merchant, without taking his eyes off User, stretched out his hand to the phone: "Have you checked the data?" The user nodded, clutching a USB drive in his pocket: "It's all clear. Full information about the distribution networks of Euphoria in the city. The servers are well protected, but I found a vulnerability." The merchant chuckled, his scars seeming even deeper with this movement: Good. You know that there is only one bullet for a low—quality product. And for betrayal — a whole clip." The user swallowed saliva: "I am not a traitor. I need money, and I got what I paid for." The drug dealer took a USB stick and ran his finger over it: "Information is expensive. If you want full payment, prove your dedication to the cause." The user froze in anticipation. He knew that this was just the beginning of a game where the stakes were extremely high, and the feeling of being trapped was getting stronger and stronger by the second.