10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 87- Malware Injection

San Francisco, Sector 17 — Main Data Hub of Blac Corporations

"Woah, wh-what is this!?"

Kleven stood at the edge of the elevated platform, eyes wide, taking in the sight before him—a sprawling, hall-sized chamber saturated in a cool blue glow and humming with massive servers.

Towering machines blinked in rows like metallic giants, each connected to a central supercomputer flanked by thick glass walls and floating holopanels.

Above all, a massive curved screen flickered with coded pulses and locked signals.

Inside the glass enclosure, two men and two women worked. The women sat with perfect, distracting posture, their snug corporate skirts riding high up their thighs as their fingers flew across the keyboards at an almost robotic pace—until their attention snapped toward the sound of the door opening, revealing the boy standing beside the tall, imposing man in black.

"Oh. Greetings, Sir. How was your day?" one of the women asked, standing at once. She subtly smoothed down the tight fabric over her hips, her chest heaving a little under her crisp, unbuttoned blouse.

"Welcome," muttered one of the men stiffly.

Their eyes lingered more on the boy than on the man behind him.

The contrast was stark—he seemed too young, too out of place, clutching his laptop awkwardly to his chest, sneakers tapping uncertainly on the polished floor.

Their expressions made no effort to hide it.

Cruxius stepped in quietly, hands resting casually in the pockets of his long coat, his dark gaze fixed firmly on the giant screen ahead.

"Hm," he began, letting his deep voice resonate, then paused briefly. "His name is Kleven."

The boy looked up, blinking. The others tensed.

Cruxius didn’t raise his voice, didn’t slow down. "From now on, he will lead you four."

’!?’

It was visible—small shifts, stiffened backs, exchanged glances. Silent disbelief thickened the air like static. He saw the flicker of annoyance in their eyes.

’He’s just a kid.’

’No way.’

’This must be a mistake.’

The man called Traven crossed his arms without even trying to mask his doubt. Lex exhaled sharply through her nose, the sudden breath making her heavy cleavage press flush against the edge of her tight corset-style vest.

The other two women raised their eyebrows, their full lips pursing, but said nothing.

Even Kleven noticed it. His grip tightened on the laptop.

Then Cruxius spoke again, calmly, with the kind of heavy, dominant presence that stopped the air mid-breath.

"Now, all five of you," he said, voice sharp as a circuit cut, "instead of playing this drama—which you can save for later—and doubting the boy, go to your seats."

That silence broke like shattering glass.

Everyone blinked, caught off-guard—not by anger, but by the chilling fact that Cruxius saw everything, even what they hadn’t dared say aloud.

Lex was the first to nod. She turned on her heels, her hips swaying deliberately as she moved back to her desk. Traven looked mildly ashamed; the other two women followed without a word, quietly apologetic.

Even Kleven was surprised. He hadn’t expected the tension to be dismantled so easily.

As he processed it, he felt Cruxius glance at him once before stepping away.

Kleven nodded, understanding his cue. He took a deep breath and moved toward the center of the room—to the heavily modified seat directly in front of the supercomputer’s mainframe.

He sat.

The leather chair adjusted automatically to his presence. Holograms activated with a soft hum.

"By the way," Kleven said, adjusting his screen, "what do I need to do?"

Cruxius’s voice came from behind, smooth and authoritative, loud enough to reach him as he leaned against a nearby glass table.

"There’s a dormant network node. An offline program that belonged to the Villain Syndicate."

"Wait—the one used for upper zone commands?" Lex looked up, her eyes widening, already recognizing the network system. It was created by one of the smartest supervillains known to techies—he had built one of the most advanced AI ranking models in the underworld.

"Yes," Cruxius replied. "The hierarchy used it to issue orders down the chain—from High Zone to Mid, and from Mid to Low. The AI system ran everything: tactical orders, personnel shifts, even kill directives. It’s silent now—shut down manually by its original owner to avoid a trace."

"And you want to hijack it," Kleven said slowly, wiping a slightly sweaty palm on his jeans.

"Yes," Cruxius replied. "Get inside the subnet before all the remaining data is lost. Reclaim access authority. Override its allegiance."

"...I’ll try." Even though Kleven said that, all four adults seemed completely hesitant, glancing toward one another with heavy sighs.

After all, each of them was aware of how terrifyingly powerful the system was—too strong for normal people to crack. Despite being top-tier coders, they had tried several times.

During their previous attempts, it had always been impossible to make any progress. The program was written in a coding language that was practically nonexistent and aggressively difficult to decrypt.

However, completely unaware of the system’s notorious reputation, Kleven quickly tapped into the protocol, linking his personal system to the outermost shell of the old AI framework.

Firewalls flared up immediately, bathing the room in a harsh, warning-red glow.

Even though the system had been manually shut down, it was like finding dead weapons in a bunker sealed by indestructible means.

Lex spoke from the left, leaning far over her console. The angle offered a generous, sweat-slicked view of her cleavage pressing against the desk as she typed frantically. "These codes are brutal. Triple-mesh encryption with dynamic cipher loops. We couldn’t even get a stable handshake."

"It’s not just brutal," Kleven murmured, squinting at the cascading data. "It’s reactive. The shutdown program isn’t just dormant—it’s rigged to erase pathways if it detects unnatural entry. And the entry pass needs encryption keys that are nested inside dead memory clusters. Breaking through is... almost insane."

"But not impossible," Mira interrupted, leaning forward in her seat, her thick thighs squeezing together in tension under her short skirt. "The AI core used timestamp-based logical checks. It couldn’t keep up with erratic loops. That’s its crack."

"Exactly," Kleven nodded. "If we inject a falsified loop through a ghost port and force it to skip sync time... it might accept an artificial handshake."

"I’ve got the ghost port ready," Lex said, her tone breathless but professional now.

"Firewall masking deployed," Mira added, a bead of sweat tracing down her neck and slipping past her collarbone.

"I’ll monitor signal integrity," Traven muttered, already typing.

Kleven exhaled, fingers blurring across the keys.

> First Move: Inject a looped access request—wrapped in dead cluster signature.

>

> Second Move: Initialize ghost port handshake protocol through the cloaked relay.

>

> Third Move: Wipe access logs of artificial loop history.

>

> Fourth Move: Lock in false re-authentication before the AI reboots.

>

Beads of sweat trickled down his temple. The system fought back violently—errors lashed out, digital gates slammed shut, signals blurred into static. Every second felt like a hundred.

"Cloaked relay is holding—but not for long!" Lex warned, her chest heaving with the adrenaline.

"System is attempting reboot!" Traven shouted. "Seven seconds!"

"I’m almost there—hold the ghost port open!"

Kleven’s hands moved like lightning.

Final key in.

Enter.

A pause. Then—

ERROR

SYSTEM INFILTRATION DETECTED.

REVERSE MALWARE INJECTIONS.

’!?!’