Home Sweet Cell
You reluctantly decided to rent the small basement apartment that the real estate agent showed you. The living conditions were far from ideal, but it was the only option you had at the time. The place was damp, and the air was stale. It had a small window that was blocked by a row of steel bars. The window offered naught but an expanse of gray sky and looming monoliths. Feeling like you were living in a prison.
You moved in with your few belongings: a laptop, a backpack, a jacket and a pair of sunglasses. You didn’t have much else to your name. You felt like you were starting from scratch, with nothing but your own wits to rely on.
You were a hacker, or at least you wanted to be one.
You had always been fascinated by the world of cybercrime and the power that it could give you. You had learned some tricks from online forums and tutorials, but you’ve yet to make any real waves.
You dreamed of breaking into the corporate networks that controlled the city, exposing their secrets and stealing their data. You want to forge your own street cred in the subterranean circuit, amassing a little respect and hard currency. It’s a risky game, but you’re down to roll the dice.
However, the life of a hacker is a harsh mistress.
Requiring gear, software, connections, and a certain slant of fate. You’ve got none of those. The bulk of your hours logged from within the apartment, scrounging the net for a break. Incrementally, you sharpen your edge on minuscule marks, each effort another polish on your skill.
Despite your initial motivation, you found yourself getting sidetracked and spending more and more time on useless websites and social media platforms. You would often get lost in a sea of distractions, losing track of time and forgetting why you came online in the first place. However, there were times when you would go out to the nearby night market to immerse yourself in the neon lights and the noise of the crowd. It made you feel alive, as if you were part of something bigger than yourself.
The tick of time gnaws at your mind, the walls of your humid shoebox of an apartment closing in. You knew that you had the potential to be great, but you just couldn’t seem to get past this roadblock. You would start a new project or skill-building exercise with enthusiasm, only to abandon it halfway through when you hit a difficult patch or encountered a new distraction. You yearned for adventure and excitement, for a way to prove yourself and make a name for yourself in the underground scene. You spent most of your time browsing the web and looking for opportunities, but nothing seemed to catch your eye.
One night, as you were walking through the market, a man in a trench coat and fedora caught your eye. He stuck out like a neon orchid in a sea of dull weeds. Clenching a briefcase, he anxiously scoped the place, like waiting for some damn thing. Your interest was piqued, wondering what he was up to, and if he might be any help in your pursuit of cyber fame. Treading carefully, you moved in, hoping not to spook the prey.
Perchance he’s a spook or a smuggler, fists clasping something of dire import. Or perchance, nay, just perchance, he’s the shot you’ve been itching for.
家，甜蜜的牢
你不情願地決定租下房地產經紀人展示給你的小地下室公寓。生活條件遠非理想，但那是當時唯一的選擇。這個地方潮濕，空氣味道陳舊。它有一個小窗戶，被一排鋼條封鎖。窗外只能看到一片灰色的天空和高聳的摩天大樓，感覺自己像是生活在監獄中。
你帶著幾件行李搬進去：一台筆記本電腦，一個背包，一件夾克和一副太陽眼鏡。你沒有什麼財產。你感覺自己像是從零開始，只能依靠自己的智慧。
你是一個駭客，或者至少你想成為一個駭客。
你一直被網絡犯罪的世界和它所能帶來的權力所吸引。你從網絡論壇和教程中學到了一些技能，但你從未做過任何大事。你夢想闖入控制城市的企業網絡，揭示他們的秘密並竊取他們的數據。你想在地下圈子中建立自己的名聲，賺取一些尊重和金錢。你知道這是一個冒險的生意，但你願意冒這個險。
但駭客並不容易。
你需要設備、軟件、人脈和運氣。你一樣都沒有。你大部分的時間都花在了公寓裡，瀏覽網絡並尋找機會。你在小目標上練習你的技能，嘗試磨練你的技藝。
儘管最初你的動力很高，但你發現自己越來越容易被分心，越來越多時間花在無用的網站和社交媒體平台上。你經常會迷失在各種干擾中，失去時間的感覺，忘記了最初上網的目的。但是有時候，你會去附近的夜市，沉浸在霓虹燈和人群的噪音中。這讓你感覺到活著，好像你是某個比你自己更大的東西的一部分。
時間的滴答聲噬咬著你的心靈，悶熱狹窄的公寓牢牢地將你困住。你知道自己有偉大的潛力，但似乎總是無法越過這個障礙。你會充滿熱情地開始一個新的項目或技能訓練，但當遇到困難或新的誘惑時，就會半途而廢。你渴望冒險和刺激，渴望一個在地下場景中證明自己、打響名號的途徑。你大部分的時間都在瀏覽網絡，尋找機會，但似乎沒有什麼能引起你的興趣。
有一個晚上，當你在市集徘徊時，一個穿著風衣和寬緣禮帽的男人引起了你的注意。他在平淡無奇的人群中顯得格外突兀，如霓虹蘭花。他緊握著公事包，焦急地四處觀察，好像在等待某個該死的東西。你的興趣被激起，好奇他在搞什麼鬼，他是否能幫助你在網路世界中取得聲望。小心翼翼地接近，希望不要驚擾到獵物。
也許他是個間諜或走私者。也許他緊握著某個極為重要的東西。或許，僅僅或許，他就是你一直在等待的機會。
