love.exe - A SteemFest Crypto Love Story Episode 1 || SteemFest Ticket Giveaway

At 0400 the alarm clock rings. Most people in my time zone are asleep and my day is already underway. What’s sleep, anyway? Based on the assumption that the average life expectancy is 80 years, you’d lose 26.66 years of life for your precious eight-hour sleep. Sounds silly, no? My way, I’m out one-sixth of the day while the batteries recharge, and then it’s back off to make my corner of the world a better place. Seems like a better use of time, yes?

After a short shower I have a quick breakfast. I take the jam from the upper left cabinet and the butter knife from the lower right draw and trace a horizontal line across the bread. Like each morning, I eat only half and then go for a walk. Fresh oxygen is important to keep all systems operating at optimal efficiency and the movement helps me think. I always need to think.

After the walk I spend the rest of the morning sifting through the emails I’ve collected. I look for people on particular message boards, people who need a hand. There are so many people out there, and the universe is a cold place, so I figure out a way to help who I can. The people I choose to help get an email, sometimes a letter, with a riddle or challenge inside, and most will disregard this message as spam or a mistake. But those who are looking for a miracle, digital or otherwise, may decide to play along.

Let me tell you later more about my riddles.

This is my usual routine, and I love it very much. Some people say I lack interpersonal or social skills. That I don’t get along with the people around me. They are wrong. Online, the people know me for my good deeds, for making the world better place, if only bit by bit. Just as I started my daily hunt on the message boards the doorbell rings. I’ve always found the sound obtrusive and aggravating, do you feel the same way? I try to ignore the desperate electronic squeal, but my patience is too thin. I hate having my work disturbed. Who can it be?

Only the landlord knows I live here, besides the neighbors who see me but never speak. No one else. I open the door slowly, cautiously.

“Hello Mr. Tungsten, my name is Sarah and I moved to the apartment next to you. I wanted to introduce myself since we are neighbors now,” said the woman, her long brown hair a wash of autumn down past her shoulders.

“Thanks.”

I close the door, quickly. You think I was little rough? She disturbed me, what else should I do? At least I told her my name, I think, or maybe not? Several sets of people have moved into the apartments around me over the years. Sometimes it’s couples in love, sometimes it’s other single men or even families. I never speak to any of them, or to anyone really. I always thought it’d be easier that way.

However, let’s get back to work.

You perhaps think I’m Robin Hood because I help people? That’s not my job. What I am about to do today is expose a huge network of tax evaders, a worldwide network centered in Panama. But before exacting justice, we should pull a bounty for my services.

Three hours later the doorbell rings again. Impatiently, I open the door quickly again. Sarah, smiling. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but do you have some sugar for me? Perhaps some eggs as well. You will get some brownies for sure! I saw your last name on the mailbox downstairs, Mr. Tungsten but what’s your first name?” She shot the questions off, a machine inquiry that left me unsure where to start. So I didn’t.

I left her at the door and went to the kitchen, getting some sugar and eggs for her. Brownies contain a lot of glucose, exactly what my brain needs right now, some new energy. It’s useful. “Malik.” I mumble while handing over the ingredients and closing the door.

She had seen my technology from the doorway, so it was no surprise that when she had computer trouble, she found herself knocking on my door.

“Malik! It’s horrible, I need your help! My computer is frozen, it says the FBI has locked it and wants me to pay them a thousand dollars in bitcoin to get my photo files back. What the hell is bitcoin?! How can they do that? Can you help me?”

If you think you have seen it all, you won’t believe what I have seen. It’s amazing that people really think the federal authorities would ransom computer files instead of just marching into their homes and taking anything they actually wanted.

I nod my head and follow her into her apartment. Five steps from the door and we were in what you would call her living room/bedroom. If you think I live modestly, outside of my tech of course, you wouldn’t believe the condition of her place. For the first time in a long time, I felt very sorry for someone in the physical world, here in front of me.

“Sorry about the mess. I’m still waiting to get a few things for the place, once I get paid…” She turned away to clean the desktop and offered me a seat.

A loose cable between the laptop and monitor caused a flicker on the screen that was driving me insane, they were clearly broken. Once I got a spare cable from my place, we were in business and just as I thought, ransomware. A computer virus used by criminals to encrypt a victim’s data and then demand payment to release the password. They usually want Bitcoin. Of course, this isn’t my first rodeo, and I’ve even made one of these myself once, for educational purposes I assure you.

Checking the log-file reveals the signature to be Trojan-Ransom.Win32.R3vBlackhats. I know them, they’re a second rate pseudo-hacking collective. Decrypting Sarah’s drive wouldn’t be a problem, for someone like me. Once decrypted, I had access to her desktop where dozens of photographs were spread across the screen. Her email was open on a tab, and I made a mental note of her address. After setting up some anti-virus and a firewall, I called her back to the desk.
“Your computer is fine now. It wasn’t the FBI, you downloaded an infected version of Photoshop. Next time ask me. You are good to go now.”

“Thank you Malik!” she squealed, launching herself at me and wrapping her arms around my neck. She smelled like fresh vanilla, and the scent made my knees weaken.

When I returned to my apartment, my mind was racing. She had affected me in a way that no one had, and just her hug had shocked me into silence. I sat down at my computer and typed out her email address, and proceeded to draft a message. A message I hoped that she’d read and figure out. The universe helps those that help themselves.

When he finished the email, he stared at the screen for a time. He wasn’t sure if she’d even read it, but he hoped she would.

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Hello dear reader, thank you for reading the first episode of Love.exe – A SteemFest Crypto Love Story. Sarah is in a desperate situation but luckily she has met Malik. If she can help herself by solving the puzzle, she’ll find relief. And if you, dear reader, can solve the puzzle, you can also get a surprise. Malik is so nice and has left a little gift for you, the readers. You will have a chance to receive a free ticket to SteemFest! Among all comments we will pick one winner, randomly. The chronological order of the comments will be your number. First comment =1, second =2, etc. Using random.org, we will pick a number and that person will receive their free ticket to SteemFest!

love.exe is part of the Crypto Challenge - Amsterdam edition that awaits you at SteemFest. A treasure hunt like challenge where you can win 1000 SP! If you missed that announcement have a look here http://www.steemfest.com/ or check @steemfest / @roelandp
Written by @timsaid and @prufarchy exclusively on Steemit.