"Saving your furry ass," I replied without looking up. "First, proper VLAN segregation."
Over the next hour, I transformed their digital infrastructure. My fingers danced across multiple keyboards, occasionally touching hardware directly when I needed to feel the electrical pathways more intimately.
I rerouted connections, established unbreakable firewall rules, patched vulnerable code, and installed custom encryptionprotocols that would make government agencies weep with envy.
The basement filled with the sounds of my work—clicking keys, beeping confirmations, the occasional whir of a hard drive spinning up as I pushed the systems to their limits. The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally as I redirected power, casting strange shadows across Yuri's increasingly interested face.
"Here," I said, pointing to a section of code on the monitor. "You had a backdoor installed—probably from that contractor you hired last year. Anyone with basic skills could have accessed your entire operation."
Yuri's jaw tightened. "How did you—"
"It was signed by someone named 'DevMaster2020.' Super original," I rolled my eyes. "I closed it, added tripwires, and set up alerts if anyone tries something similar again."
I moved to the network diagram I'd created on another screen. "Your camera system was viewable from outside your network with minimal effort. Now it's locked down tight, accessible only through multi-factor authentication and encrypted VPN tunnels."
As I explained each vulnerability and solution, Yuri's expression gradually shifted. The permanent scowl remained, but his eyes showed something new—a grudging recognition that maybe, just maybe, I knew what I was talking about.
"And this," I said, pulling up yet another screen, "is your new threat detection system. It'll identify unusual patterns and alert you before an attack even begins." I glanced at him. "Even you could use it. Just click the red button when things go boom."
"I am not an idiot," he growled, but there was less heat in it than before.
"Never said you were, but you're not a tech genius either." I swiveled in the chair to face him directly. "Your physical securityis solid—big scary men with guns usually are effective. But your digital security was Swiss cheese, and in today's world, that's how people like O'Rourke would get to you."
The mention of O'Rourke's name caused a visible reaction—a subtle tightening around Yuri's eyes, a slight shift in his stance. Interesting. The rival syndicate clearly rattled him more than he wanted to admit.
"The modifications you've made," he said carefully, "how do we know they're not compromised?"
Smart bear. Trust issues, but smart.
"You don't," I admitted. "But Nicolai does. Why do you think he brought me here in the first place?"
That wasn't entirely true—Nicolai had "brought" me here for entirely different reasons involving mutual attraction and my need for protection—but Yuri didn't need to know all the details.
I turned back to the system and made a few final adjustments. "There. Your security is now light years ahead of where it was. Military-grade encryption, proper network segregation, intrusion detection, and automated countermeasures." I patted the server affectionately. "She'll take care of you now."
Yuri studied the monitors, his eyes moving from screen to screen. I could practically see the calculations happening behind his eyes—weighing my skills against the threat I potentially posed, measuring the value I'd just added against his instinctive distrust of outsiders.
"These improvements," he finally said, "they would have cost..."
"Hundreds of thousands on the open market," I finished for him. "Plus, you'd never find someone who could do it all at once. Not without a team of specialists."
The silence that followed wasn't exactly comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Yuri stared at me with new eyes—still suspicious, still wary, but now with an undercurrent of something approaching professional respect.
"The boss said you were useful," he admitted grudgingly. "I didn't understand until now."
I grinned. "Was that almost a compliment, Watchdog? Better be careful or people might think you're getting soft."
His scowl returned instantly, but it lacked its previous menace. We'd reached an understanding of sorts—I was still an outsider, still potentially dangerous, but now I was an outsider with demonstrable value.
And in a world of criminals and shifters, value was sometimes the only currency that truly mattered.
With the hard work done, I couldn't resist adding a few personal touches to the system. Every hacker worth their salt leaves a signature—not obvious enough to compromise security, but distinctive enough that if another tech wizard came poking around, they'd know whose territory they were encroaching on.
I embedded mine within the authentication protocols—a subtle pattern of code that spelled out my digital fingerprint. Nothing harmful, just a little artistic flourish. Like signing a masterpiece.
"Almost finished," I announced, fingers flying across the keyboard as I implemented my final adjustments.
The air in the basement felt different now. The hostile silence that had accompanied us earlier had transformed into something less antagonistic. Not friendly—Yuri didn't seem capable of friendly—but there was a grudging professional atmosphere that hadn't existed when he'd first dragged me down the stairs.
