Lines in the Code

Chapter 1: Small Scores

The faint hum of a laptop filled the room, blending seamlessly with the muted noise of the city outside-a distant symphony of car horns, passing trains, and muffled voices. Skylar Hayes sat cross-legged on the floor of his sparse apartment, his hoodie pulled low over his head. The glow from the screen illuminated his face, highlighting sharp cheekbones and shadowed eyes as they darted across lines of scrolling code.

Around him, the apartment was dark and unremarkable. A single lamp in the corner cast a pale yellow halo onto a cheap folding table, where an empty can of energy drink and a cracked phone sat next to a photo in a taped-together frame. The room smelled faintly of dust and solder, but Skylar didn't notice.

His focus was absolute, his fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced precision. Every click was deliberate, each line of code bringing him closer to his goal.

Almost there.

A soft chime broke the silence, and the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Success. Skylar leaned closer, his hood shifting slightly as his dark eyes scanned the screen. Numbers and account details filled the monitor-a digital map of siphoned funds, each fraction of a cent plucked carefully from unsuspecting accounts. The total climbed steadily.

It wasn't a fortune, but it didn't need to be. Skylar wasn't interested in extravagant paydays or gaudy displays of wealth.

The photo on the table caught his eye. Skylar reached over, brushing a thumb over the face smiling up at him-his sister, Serena. Her long hair was tied back in the picture, but even the wires and medical tubing couldn't dull the life in her eyes.

"Another miracle," Skylar murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

The glow of the screen reflected in his eyes as he returned his attention to the transfer. Funds shifted seamlessly into a secure offshore account-one of a dozen he'd meticulously set up over the years. From there, they'd be moved again, buried under so many layers of encryption that even he sometimes forgot where it all ended up.

Skylar watched as the final transaction was completed, the screen flashing a green confirmation. With a sigh, he leaned back, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness that had crept in.

"Anything for you, Serena," he muttered, shutting the laptop with a soft click.

There was no time to celebrate. Skylar stood, already dismantling his makeshift workstation. Every piece of equipment had a place: a signal jammer, a compact router, and a portable power bank. All of it disappeared into a scuffed duffle bag, packed with the kind of precision that only came from years of experience.

No trace, no trail, no mistakes.

Skylar moved through the apartment with purpose, checking every corner, every surface. Paranoia had saved him more times than he cared to admit, and he wasn't about to let his guard slip now.

The apartment wasn't home-it never had been. Just another stop on a long, winding road. Tomorrow, someone else would move in, and there'd be no sign Skylar had ever been here. That was the way it had to be.

With one last glance at Serena's photo, he slung the bag over his shoulder and pulled up his hood. The room fell silent as the door clicked shut behind him.

***

The precinct was still, the hum of fluorescent lights casting long shadows over rows of cluttered desks. Detective Xavier Cross leaned against the edge of his desk, his broad shoulders hunched as he stared at his computer monitor. The screen flickered, its harsh light reflecting in his sharp, dark eyes.

[Unauthorized Access Detected.]

The words blinked at him in ominous red text, as if mocking his frustration. Xavier leaned closer, dragging a hand down his face.

"This has to be him," he muttered under his breath.

The muffled sound of footsteps broke the silence. Detective Harris strolled into the room, balancing two steaming cups of coffee. He stopped when he saw Xavier's expression, smirking as he crossed the threshold.

"Don't tell me you're still chasing that hacker," Harris said, setting one of the mugs on the desk.

Xavier didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached for the corkboard behind him, his gaze locking onto a blurry surveillance photo pinned in the center. The image was grainy, showing nothing more than a figure in a hoodie walking through a dimly lit alley.

"Ph. S struck again," Xavier said at last, his voice low and edged with irritation.

"Ph. S?" Harris rolled his eyes, leaning back against the desk. "Jesus, Cross. The guy's not even dangerous. What's he doing, stealing pizza money?"

Xavier turned slowly, his jaw tight. "He's careful. Methodical. You think someone with that level of precision is just going to stay small-time forever? If he wanted to, this guy could shut down the power grid. Or the stock market."

"But he hasn't." Harris shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "Look, I get it. The guy's a ghost. Probably makes you feel like an amateur every time he slips through your fingers."

"Shut up, Harris."

Harris chuckled, setting his mug on the desk. "All I'm saying is, you're obsessed. Ford's already told you to drop it. Focus on the cartel case-you know, the one with actual killers involved?"

Xavier didn't reply. His attention was back on the screen, where he pulled up the breach report in greater detail. Phantom's work was there, unmistakable. A pattern of timestamps, connection proxies, and subtle digital breadcrumbs left just out of reach.

Every trace was a challenge, Xavier thought-a calculated move meant to frustrate him.

"He's laughing at us," Xavier said quietly, his eyes narrowing.

"Or maybe he just doesn't care," Harris offered. "You ever think he's not the villain you're making him out to be?"

Xavier's glare could have frozen steel. "Everyone's a villain until they're caught."

***

Skylar moved quickly through the city, his duffle bag slung across his back. The streets were quieter now, the hum of late-night traffic fading into the distance as he slipped into the shadowed alleys he knew so well.

Above him, neon signs flickered, their light casting strange patterns across the damp pavement. Skylar's breath puffed faintly in the cold air, but he ignored the chill, his focus sharp.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at the message that had just come through:
[Payment received. Same time next week?]

Skylar's fingers moved quickly over the screen as he typed his reply:
[Keep it clean. No noise.]

The phone disappeared into his pocket, and Skylar ducked into a side street. His movements were fluid, practiced-disappearing into the city like smoke dissolving into air.

Author's Note:
Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a webnovel since my high school days, so I'm both excited and nervous to share this story with you. A little bit about the story-Skylar is like my own son, and I have so much love for this small, lovable guy. I hope you'll grow to love him too!

This is also my first attempt at writing a BL story, and I'm doing it in English, which isn't my first language. So, please bear with me if you notice grammatical errors or typos-there's no proofreader here, just me trying my best. I chose to write in English because I feel it helps me express myself better.

I plan to update this story regularly, and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoy creating it. Thank you for giving it a chance!

Happy reading!
- Haru