The door chimed as the hooded figure entered the fast-food restaurant, the sound blending into the background hum of sizzling grills and muffled chatter. It was a bitterly cold winter evening, and his oversized hoodie, dark glasses, and surgical face mask didn't draw much attention-practical choices, to shield against the chill and prying eyes alike. His dark complexion was fake. Dark colored makeup was applied to the visible parts of his face to avoid accurate description from bystanders or security cameras. Black latex gloves covered his light-colored hands, as well as his fingerprints. He moved purposefully through the fluorescent-lit space, heading straight for the restroom.
Once inside, he grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser, and entered the furthest stall, locking it behind him. From beneath his hoodie, he retrieved a mobile device and an auxiliary external battery, their matte-black surfaces absorbing the harsh bathroom lighting. Even the screen was a non-glare type. His fingers moved with precision, launching a pre-installed program. The device clicking faintly; its operation invisible to anyone outside the stall. He waited, checking his watch, ensuring every detail unfolded according to the meticulous plan he had devised months ago.
Satisfied that the program was executing as intended, he powered down the screen and wrapped the device, along with its auxiliary battery, in a cocoon of paper towels. He hit the toilet's flush lever, an effort to avoid suspicion. Emerging from the stall, he approached the plastic garbage can with a flap-type lid near the sinks. The choice of this particular garbage can was deliberate-its thin plastic walls wouldn't interfere with the device's connection, allowing uninterrupted operation. With a casual motion, he dropped the wrapped device into the bin, ensuring it landed gently onto the pile of used paper towels already inside.
Without so much as a glance back, he exited the restroom and walked through the dining area, his pace unhurried. Walking as if he had nowhere to be. The plan demanded he leave on foot, blending into the night as if he were just another passerby. The cold wind greeted him again as he stepped outside, but he didn't falter. Every movement was a calculated step in a months-long strategy, each detail refined to avoid detection.
The next morning, the world woke to chaos. Major news outlets flashed urgent banners: "Unprecedented Bitcoin Hack Shakes Global Economy." Reports flooded in that all Bitcoin exchanges worldwide had been compromised. Overnight, every Bitcoin in existence (valued at over two trillion dollars) had been transferred to an anonymous digital wallet. The blockchain, once lauded for its transparency and security, now displayed an immutable record of the theft, but no clues as to the hacker's identity.
Across the globe, Bitcoin holders were in a frenzy. Social media platforms were inundated with desperate posts from individuals and corporations alike, their entire holdings vanished. Crypto exchanges halted trading, their systems overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the breach. Governments convened emergency sessions, financial markets teetered on the brink, and cybersecurity experts scrambled to analyze the breach.
The anonymous wallet address was publicly visible on the blockchain, its balance now holding every Bitcoin in circulation. Attempts to trace the wallet's origin yielded nothing; the hacker had used sophisticated obfuscation, routing the transactions through countless nodes and mixers. The sheer audacity of the act left experts stunned-this wasn't just a theft; it was a direct assault on the very foundations of decentralized finance. And little did they know, it was initiated inside a bathroom stall, and completed operation in a garbage can.
In Portland, Oregon, the fast-food restaurant remained oblivious to its role in the unfolding crisis. The garbage can sit undisturbed, its plastic walls shielding the still-operating device within. Across the city, agents from multiple federal agencies were mobilizing, piecing together fragments of evidence in a desperate bid to understand the hacker's motives and next move.
Meanwhile, the anonymous wallet remained untouched. Not a single Bitcoin had been moved or converted. And that would remain the case since the SIM card within the device was the only key to access the wallet. There it sits...in the garbage...in nobody's possession. And soon to be unknowingly thrown into a dumpster, then eventually off to the local landfill. All this before investigators could track the closest tower connection to zero in on the devices last known location.
The silence was deafening, raising questions about the hacker's true intentions. Was this an act of greed, a demonstration of power, or something more profound? The global public was in denial, not believing the encrypted currency could be decrypted in its entirety. It's nonsense! A sheer impossibility! Especially when you consider the amount of time and energy it takes for normal crypto mining procedures. How could this, at all, be possible? The world could only wait, its collective breath held, as the mystery deepened.
Nobody profits from this hack.
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