8:00 PM, Hell's Kitchen, a red-brick apartment building that looked like it was about to be demolished.
The room was dark; the only light source came from a row of monitors on the wall emitting a faint blue glow, and the server indicator lights blinking amidst the web of cables.
A thin figure was curled up in front of a massive workbench made from an old door panel.
She was wearing a black leather jacket covered in studs, her bare feet resting on an ergonomic chair, a silver ring pierced through her nose, her short black hair messy as if chewed by a dog, and the tail of a dragon tattoo visible on her neck.
Lisbeth Salander.
An external investigator for the Milton Security Company, and the hacker in all of New York who most didn't want to be found, but who was best at finding others.
"Beep—"
The sound of an electronic lock unlocking.
Alice pushed open the heavy soundproof door and walked in.
"You're too careful. I had to pass through three biometric checks just to get in."
"You're three minutes late."
Lisbeth didn't look up, her fingers flying across the keyboard, leaving afterimages, while the code on the screen flowed like a waterfall, reflected in her pupils.
"For a client who paid double the rush fee and even made me use the Wasp System, this is unreasonable."
Alice pulled over a chair piled with pizza boxes and placed a freshly bought hot latte next to the mountain of Red Bull cans on the corner of the table.
"Sorry, I took a detour to avoid being seen by certain people."
Lisbeth stopped what she was doing and turned around.
Her eyes, heavily made up with smoky eyeshadow, swept coldly over Alice, and she grabbed a silver USB drive from the table and tossed it over.
"The information you wanted is in there."
"Wesley Gibson, 24 years old, account manager at an accounting firm, has been taking anti-anxiety medication Paroxetine for five years."
"I checked his medical records and medication purchase list. His blood tests show adrenaline levels several times higher than a normal person's."
Lisbeth shook a cigarette out of the pack, lit it, took a deep drag, and a rare look of confusion appeared in her eyes as she stared at the heart rate chart of Wesley on the screen.
"I don't understand how he's still alive. By all accounts, his heart should have exploded long ago. But not only is he alive, his brain activity is terrifyingly high at certain moments—it's like he's overclocking."
"It's a gift, Ms. Salander."
Alice toyed with the silver USB drive, her fingertips gently caressing the metal surface, a faint smile on her lips.
"In this World, some people are born monsters."
"Monsters?"
Lisbeth sneered and pulled up a surveillance feed.
On the screen, Wesley was being berated by his female boss, spit flying onto his face, but he kept his head down, acting timid the whole time.
He might as well have tied a headband around his forehead: U.S. Coward.
"If this counts as a monster, then it's a castrated monster. I checked his spending history too. He was buying a gift for his girlfriend, but her credit card statement shows she just checked into a love hotel with Wesley's best friend, Barry."
Lisbeth exhaled a ring of smoke, the blue haze curling in the light of the monitor.
The atmosphere was hazy.
"Are you sure you want to target this loser? When I hacked into the traffic monitoring system to watch him yesterday, I found someone else tailing him. It was a pro. If I hadn't used a gait recognition algorithm, I wouldn't have caught a glimpse of her shadow."
"Fox." Alice whispered the name.
"I don't care who she is." Lisbeth turned back around, continuing to type, no longer looking at Alice. "My firewall was attacked three times last night. Someone is reverse-tracing my query IP. I don't like dealing with organizations with top-tier cyber warfare capabilities. This job is finished; don't come looking for me again."
Alice looked at the cold hacker's back, smiled, placed the envelope with the final payment under the latte, and got up to leave.
"A wise choice, Lisbeth. Those people are indeed not very friendly."
Walking out of the oppressive industrial loft, Alice tossed the USB drive in her hand.
With Lisbeth's intelligence, Wesley's life was now completely transparent to her.
The next step was to "accidentally" meet the King of Assassins, who had been castrated by life, at the pharmacy.
...
The next day, 6:45 PM.
17th District, Rite Aid chain pharmacy.
The setting sun, like an actor unwilling to leave the stage, spilled the last trace of blood-red afterglow through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows onto the pharmacy's pristine white tiled floor.
"Ding-dong—"
The automatic door slid open.
Alice walked in.
She wore a slightly oversized gray hoodie on her upper body, dark cargo pants, and a pair of worn-in combat boots on her feet.
Her striking blonde hair was hidden under the hood, revealing only a few stray locks and a pair of overly calm eyes.
Alice walked straight to the back of the shelf in the toiletries section, picked up a bottle of vitamin water, seemingly studying the ingredients list, but in reality, she used the circular makeup mirror provided for testing on the shelf to adjust her angle and leisurely observe the man anxiously waiting at the counter.
Wesley Gibson.
At this moment, he was standing at the checkout counter, covered in cold sweat, his face as pale as a sheet.
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