Tech Giants: Starting from Bankrupt Companies

138: Chapter 138 The Dawn of Light. Cyber ​​Attack19:00, The Second Wave of Attack

”Director Chen, they’re planting a backdoor!” Li Rui shouted. ”I’ve detected the signature of ’Bone Corroder’ in the data stream!”

’Bone Corroder’—one of the most famous persistent backdoor programs of the NSA (America’s National Security Agency). Once successfully implanted, it can bypass all conventional detection, lie dormant for long periods, and steal all data. Even more terrifyingly, it has a self-destruct mechanism: if it detects a removal attempt, it triggers a command to physically burn out the storage chips.

”Are you sure?” Silent Chen walked up behind Li Rui.

”Positive. Look at this code structure—” Li Rui pulled up a segment of hexadecimal code. ”The pattern of this jump instruction is identical to the NSA toolset leaked by the ’Shadow Brokers’ in 2017. And this string...”

He decoded a segment of binary data, and the result displayed in English:

”Veni, Vidi, Vici.”

(I came, I saw, I conquered.)

”A show-off hacker,” Silent Chen sneered. ”Typical NSA style—embedding literary quotes in attack code to show off their ’elegance.’ Orion?”

”Most likely,” Li Rui nodded. ”’Orion’ is the ace of the NSA’s cyber attack department, the ’Tailored Access Operations’ (TAO) office. He likes to leave Shakespearean quotes in his attacks. When he attacked Persia’s nuclear facilities last year, he left the ’To be or not to be’ line from Hamlet.”

”Well, this time, he chose the wrong opponent.” Silent Chen’s voice was devoid of warmth. ”Li Rui, analyze the implantation logic of ’Bone Corroder.’ They can’t succeed in one go; there must be probing steps.”

Li Rui had already started. Twelve analysis tools were running simultaneously on his screen, with code scrolling down like a waterfall.

”Found it!” Three minutes later, he pointed at a piece of logic. ”Before implanting, they first check if the system is running specific versions of antivirus software. If there are, they pause the attack and wait for an opportunity. This is ’Bone Corroder’s’ defense mechanism—to avoid premature exposure.”

”And the weakness?”

”Right here.” Li Rui’s eyes lit up. ”American arrogance—they assume the whole world uses those few mainstream antivirus programs. But we’re using our self-developed ’Xuanwu 1.0,’ which isn’t on their detection list. So...”

”So they think we’re unprotected and will implant directly,” Silent Chen understood. ”But in reality, we can see them.”

”Exactly. And because they’re trying to bypass ’non-existent’ antivirus software, the implantation code is written... a bit sloppily.” Li Rui pulled up a function. ”Look at this memory allocation function; it doesn’t perform bounds checking. If we inject specific data while it’s allocating memory, we can cause a buffer overflow, and then...”

”And then we can take over the control flow,” Silent Chen finished. ”But the risk is high. If we fail, they’ll know we’ve discovered them.”

”85% success rate,” Li Rui said after calculating. ”I need three minutes to write the injection code.”

”You have two minutes.” Silent Chen looked at the attack status map on the large screen. ”Their third wave of attack is already prepared. Once ’Bone Corroder’ is implanted, the next step is data harvesting.”

20:15, The Desperate Counterattack

Li Rui’s fingers flew across the keyboard. He wasn’t just writing code; he was weaving a trap—using the attacker’s own weapon to capture the attacker in return.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, splashing tiny droplets onto the keyboard. But he didn’t care, his eyes fixed on the screen, his pupils reflecting the scrolling code.

”Thirty seconds left.” Silent Chen watched the countdown.

”Done!” Li Rui pressed the Enter key.

A seemingly ordinary data packet was injected into the attack stream. It disguised itself as a normal system response but actually contained a carefully designed overflow payload.

”Now we need them to trigger this vulnerability.” Li Rui stared tensely at the monitor.

One second. Two.

”Triggered!” The screen showed that the attacker’s implantation program read that data packet, and then—it stalled.

It didn’t crash; instead, it entered an infinite loop. The payload Li Rui designed didn’t crash the program but kept it spinning in a harmless function while quietly opening a reverse channel.

”Mirror Cage activated,” Li Rui reported. ”All subsequent attack data is being redirected to the sandbox system. The real server is now receiving simulated ’normal data’ from us.”

Silent Chen pulled up the sandbox monitor. On the screen, the attacker was frantically stealing data—but all that data was meticulously forged. Fake design blueprints, fake experimental data, fake supply chain information...

”Let them steal,” Silent Chen said. ”The more they steal, the further they’ll stray.”

But the attack wasn’t over yet. Although the data theft was misled, the paralyzing attacks continued. Xingchen Military Industry’s production lines had been stalled for two hours, with estimated losses exceeding thirty million.

”We need a new firewall,” Silent Chen said. ”’Xuanwu 1.0’ can defend against conventional attacks, but against state-level forces, it needs an upgrade.”

”Xuanwu 2.0 has already finished development,” reported the Deputy Director of the Cyber Security Department. ”But it hasn’t passed full testing yet; its stability...”

”No time for testing,” Silent Chen interrupted. ”Deploy it immediately. Test it with the actual attack—if it holds up, it’s qualified; if not, we haven’t lost anything more.”

It was a gamble. But Silent Chen knew that against an attack of this caliber, being conservative meant destruction.

21:30, Xuanwu Awakens

The deployment of ”Xuanwu 2.0” took only fifteen minutes—thanks to the modular architecture of the Xingchen system. New firewall rules began to take effect, and attack traffic was identified, analyzed, and blocked one by one.

On the command center’s large screen, red alerts began to decrease. One node after another returned to green.

”Military communication system restored.”

”Spark Materials R&D server protection reinforced.”

”Hongqi Automobile order system successfully restarted...”

But the biggest threat hadn’t been eliminated: although the ”Bone Corroder” backdoor was misled into the sandbox, the attackers would eventually notice the anomaly. Once they realized they’d been duped, they might launch an even more violent retaliatory attack.

”Director Chen, they’re retreating,” Li Rui said suddenly.

The monitor showed that the attack traffic was decreasing. Not because it was blocked, but because it was being actively withdrawn.

”Did they realize they were tricked?” Silent Chen frowned.

”Doesn’t look like it. The retreat is very orderly, leaving no traces behind. They’re cleaning up the scene, just like... like the mission is complete.”

Silent Chen understood. The attackers thought ”Bone Corroder” had been successfully implanted and that the data theft was going smoothly. They were retreating as planned, preparing to slowly analyze the ”stolen” data back home.

”Arrogance,” Silent Chen commented. ”They didn’t even do basic verification before assuming they’d succeeded. It’s the typical ’our technology is superior, they couldn’t possibly find out’ mindset.”

”Should we trace the source?” Li Rui asked.

”Trace it. But there won’t be any results—it will only lead to a server in Virginia, and then the trail will go cold.” Silent Chen walked to the window and looked at the night view of Shenzhen. ”The important thing is we know who it is and their methods.”

22:00, Network Fully Restored.

The loss report came out: two hours of paralysis, with estimated direct economic losses of 80 million rmb—mainly from production line stalls, order delays, and the costs of emergency response.

But no core data was leaked. No physical equipment was damaged. More importantly, they gained valuable combat experience and validation data for ”Xuanwu 2.0” on a real battlefield.

”Director Chen, a cipher from President Su.” The assistant handed over a tablet.

There was only one sentence on the screen:

”Xuanwu has awakened. Orion failed to strike.”

Silent Chen replied:

”Cost: eighty million, in exchange for core data security. Attack signatures have been recorded and archived.”

A minute later, the reply came:

”Know the white, keep to the black. —Su”

Silent Chen stared at those words for a long time in silence. This was a quote from the Tao Te Ching: know where the light is, but choose to stay in the darkness.

He knew what Su Chen meant: Xingchen was in the light, and the enemy was in the dark. But sometimes, the boundary between light and dark is not insurmountable.

”Li Rui.” He turned around. ”Compile a complete technical analysis report. Write down the code signatures of ’Bone Corroder,’ the attack methods, and our response plan clearly. And then...”

He paused.

”And then send a copy to the relevant national departments?”

”No.” Silent Chen shook his head. ”Send a copy to our partners—all the companies using Xingchen technology. Let them know the risks, and let them know how to defend.”

”But this is our technical advantage...”

”An advantage isn’t something to be hidden,” Silent Chen said. ”An advantage is about making your friends strong and making your enemies afraid to attack. If all of Huaxia’s high-tech enterprises can defend against this kind of attack, then our security costs will drop, and the opponent’s attack costs will soar.”

Li Rui understood. This was an open scheme—I’m not afraid of you knowing how I defend, because even if you know, it’s still hard to crack.

”Also,” Silent Chen added, ”from today, the Cyber Security Department will launch the second phase of the ’Great Wall Project’: we need to build our own offensive capabilities. Not to attack the innocent, but to test our own defenses, and if necessary... let the opponent feel the taste of paralysis too.”

As he spoke, he unconsciously folded a piece of paper in his hand. The paper was folded repeatedly until it became a perfect regular icosahedron—a habitual action of his when thinking under pressure.

Outside the window, Shenzhen’s night sky was dyed a dark red by the city lights. A war without smoke had just ended, but everyone knew it wouldn’t be the last.

On the other side of the city, the heat from the Huaxing press conference had yet to dissipate. The light of technology and the darkness of the network intertwined on this night, forming a complex picture of Huaxia’s rise.

Silent Chen placed the paper icosahedron on the table; it stood there quietly, each face reflecting the lights of the command center.

Perfect, solid, and without weakness.

This was what Xingchen intended to become.