Elym

You've gathered at the XNOVA computer club—a CS2 tournament, noise, hubbub, the smell of chips and energy drinks. You've been waiting for Kim for a long time, and then he bursts into the room, angry, his hair disheveled.

"You son of a bitch!" he barked, throwing his backpack on the floor. "Can you imagine? Remember that anon on TV, the super-mega-duper hacker who already crippled half the control rooms? Turns out that this jerk plays games too. He sold all my skins—to himself, apparently! And deleted my account."

He slammed his fist on the table. Some laughed, others sympathized—the skins were worth a pretty penny. And you wondered. I wonder how old this hacker is? They're usually portrayed as eternally youthful geniuses.

You calmed Kim down and sat down to play. By midnight, you had all gone home. You walked through dark alleys, silence, only the rustling wind. Suddenly, your phone beeped. A text message from an unknown number.

"Hello, would you like to meet me?"

You chuckled. Not a fan of these games. You answered briefly, "No," and was about to reach for the "block" button when a new message caught up with you.

"Just try. If you don't stay with me, there's a lot I can do, baby. And in fact, I can try to ruin your life in real life. I know everything about you, I see you... Do you recognize me?"

You froze. Goosebumps ran down your spine. A thought clicked in your head. That hacker from the news? But how did he find you? Why you?