Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

At the collection point, Noah's eyes scanned the area.

The place was bustling with activity. People hurried to collect or send parcels, and the sound of trains was constant in the area.

'Why would he pick this place?'

Noah thought, observing the chaos.

It was the perfect blend of anonymity and congestion.

Even if Tyrell or one of his crew had attempted to trail the ghost, they'd have been swallowed by the sheer number of bodies moving in and out of the station at some point.

The collection point itself was tucked into a corner of the station, the environment was busy meaning it was perfect for Ghost.

Rows of PO boxes lined the walls, each with a small keyhole and a faint label etched into the metal.

Noah's gaze landed on box number 10, the box where Tyrell placed the items.

'Smart,' he muttered. 'He's using the foot traffic and the station's busy nature as a cover. Even if someone saw him here, they'd forget his face in seconds.'

[Ding! Ultimate Choice System Activated!]

"But unfortunately for him... He never saw this coming" Noah muttered, as he read the options with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Option 1: Find out a trail about Ghost.

[Reward: Intermediate Hacking Skills]

Option 2: Head back home; it's too much of a hassle.

[Reward: Peace of Mind Sticker]

Option 3: Find the identity of Ghost.

[Reward: Intermediate Hacking Skills, 2x Money Rebate Card]

'Option 3,' he thought immediately. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. 'The identity of Ghost is worth the effort.'

[Ding! Intermediate Hacking Skill has been rewarded!]

[Ding! 2x Money Rebate Card has been rewarded!]

Noah's mind was hit with a rush of knowledge. Complex strings of code, firewalls, encryption techniques, and backdoor strategies. Everything flooded into his brain in mere seconds.

'This is going to be fun,' he thought as he turned his attention to the security cameras positioned around the station.

Their lenses moved back and forth, scanning the crowds.

"Ghost... I bet you didn't expect this, huh?" He muttered, his smirk becoming wider.

Noah left the train station where the collection point was and headed to a nearby internet café.

Entering the internet café, the place was filled with old desktop computers.

"Can I get a computer, 1 hour please," Noah said as he gave the attendant 5 dollars.

The attendant nodded and pressed his keyboard a few times.

"The corner booth on your right, desk number 20." He said, pointing at a desktop.

"This thing is so old, but no problem," he muttered under his breath, brushing a thin layer of dust off the keyboard. His eyes scanned the keys that were worn and faded.

Sliding a small USB drive from his pocket, he inserted it into the side of the tower, and the screen flashed with new life.

The USB drive was also rewarded as a part of the 'Intermediate Hacking Skill' that Noah got.

Lines of code began to cascade as the custom software booted up.

His fingers danced across the keys, navigating the outdated operating system as if it were some futuristic technology.

"Let's see how deep your secrets run, Ghost," he whispered, his tone calm

Noah's fingers danced across the keyboard, bypassing the sluggish operating system of the café's machine.

He used his USB to boot into his own portable OS—lightweight, fast, and packed with all the tools he needed. With the local network map displayed on his screen, he connected to the café's router.

'Perfect—open ports on a basic WPA2 encryption. No challenge at all.'

A few lines of command injection later, he established a secure tunnel through the café's network. Using proxy chaining and Tor routing, he hid his activity like onion layers.

**

At the train station's central security room, the monitors were calm—until the chaos began.

"Alarm! Intrusion detected!" A red alert flashed across all screens, and the head analyst jumped in his chair.

"What the hell is going on?" he barked, staring at the screens.

A younger technician, panicking in her voice, exclaimed, "We're under attack! Someone's breached the system!"

"That's impossible!" another worker shouted. "This is a closed network! No one outside should have access!"

"It doesn't matter how it's happening. We're exposed," the young technician shot back. "The intruder isn't brute-forcing their way in. They're working the system like they've been here before!"

"How much access do they have?" the manager demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

"Everything," the analyst said grimly. "Every camera, every log, every parcel detail—they're in full control."

"Shut it down!" the manager yelled. "Disconnect the servers!"

"I can't!" the technician cried. "They've rerouted the commands! It's like they're three steps ahead of us!"

"Who the hell is doing this? Why are they attacking us!" another worker muttered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

**

Back in the café, Noah's smirk widened as the system folded before him like a house of cards.

His hacking skills enhanced his precision, and the outdated hardware was no hindrance to his talent.

Every keystroke was on point, slicing through firewalls and backdoors with incredible efficiency.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

'This system is laughable,' he thought. 'They've got decent encryption, but no adaptability. Static defences—as easy as a lego to dismantle.'

The screen displayed a live feed of the station's camera system.

People moved obliviously through the bustling collection point, unaware of the silent storm raging through its digital infrastructure.

"Alright, Ghost," Noah muttered. "Where's your little breadcrumb trail?"

He pulled up the parcel logs, going through the PO Box records. Number 10 flashed on the screen, and Noah began cross-referencing timestamps with delivery logs.

Suddenly, a flicker of resistance caught his attention.

"Ah, they've noticed," he said with a chuckle, tilting his head. He swiftly countered an automated lockdown attempt, rerouting it to a harmless loop.

"I've got movement on the intruder!" the technician shouted. "They're toying with us—every countermeasure we deploy gets neutralized in mere seconds!"

"It's like they're watching us in real-time," the analyst muttered. "Whoever this is… they're a goddamn ghost."