It was turning out to be surprisingly easy to track the mysterious Tempo down. Jiyong hacked the accounts of the entire Tech 10 class; it wasn’t thirty minutes before a message crawled across the bottom of one of the screens.

83%-$175.00

Jiyong clicked on it, just to test the waters. Predictably, it vanished.

Jiyong opened up the backlog of operations. There was no trace of the message, the usual list of internet browser activity, word processing and gaming applic-wait. Jiyong had been monitoring the screens for the past half hour, and this one had been solely playing solitaire for the entire duration. They hadn’t touched the internet. Yet, there was a log of browser activity ten minutes ago. Got you, Jiyong smirked to himself.

Tempo’s methods were incredibly elegant, Jiyong marveled. He had used the browser on the computer to download a file, causing the message to start playing after a ten minute delay. After the message was clicked on, thus confirming its reception, the file self-destructed and somehow wiped all records of it clean from the activity log and hard drive. Clever, Jiyong mused, but careless. Tempo was used to dealing with incompetent kids begging for his help, too preoccupied to track him down. He failed to properly erase the site address where the messaging file was downloaded from.

Exploiting this oversight, Jiyong traced it back through several bounced servers before alighting on the terminal. He wrote down the IP address for later reference, and tucked it into his pocket. 

It was lucky, Jiyong thought, that Tempo had grown arrogant in his success. His own computer was completely unguarded. Smirking, Jiyong activated the camera application, finally getting a glimpse of-

His screen went blank. Green lines of code flowed down the monitor. As Daesung had recounted, the were all the same message:

do_not_change_the_tempo

Jiyong groaned in frustration, weaving his hands through his hair. It was dry and brittle from too many bleachings, and slid roughly through his fingertips.

Then, the screen went dark again. Two lines popped up.

nice_hair_bro

did_you_glue_a_dead_albino_skunk_to_your_head

Cursing, Jiyong slammed a hand over the camera set on the top of his monitor.

too_late, the screen taunted.

turnaround_is_a__;)

props_for_getting_this_far_though

looks_like_you_do_not_need_my_help_after_all

our_business_is_concluded_mr_kim_kibum

Jiyong’s computer let out a high pitched whine, before the screen went dead. Something leaked onto his desk, eating away at the wood. Jiyong shrieked and toppled out of his chair. Further examination (conducted a safe distance away) revealed that, god know’s how, his hard drive had melted.

Seungri heard the enraged scream from down the hall, followed by a string of muffled obscenities. They were quickly proceeded by the thuds of encroaching footsteps, and then Seungri finally came to his senses and leapt out from the doorway, just as Jiyong barreled through and a scrap of paper into his chest.

“Track down this IP address. I need to know location, resident, who they are, what they do, who their families, when they eat and sleep, any and every detail of their lives,” Jiyong snarled.

Seungri gaped dumbly at Jiyong.

“MOVE,” Jiyong screeched, aiming a kick at Seungri’s backside.

“I’m moving, I’m moving!” Seungri yelled as he scrambled to his computer. “Calm down hyung, you’re starting to look like a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting.” He gestured at Jiyong’s purpling face and tufted bleached strands standing on end.

“WHY THE DOES EVERYONE KEEP BANGING ON ABOUT MY HAIR,” Jiyong roared, wrapping Seungri in a headlock.

“I’m sorry, Jesus Christ!” Seungri shrieked. “I can’t track this down if you’re trying to kill me!”

Jiyong reluctantly released him as Daesung and Youngbae walked into the room.

“What in the fresh hell is going on?” Youngbae asked, raising his eyebrows at Jiyong and Seungri’s disheveled states. “If you’re having hate- at least have the decency to close the door.”

“If only,” Seungri sighed. He quickly backtracked at Jiyong’s murderous glare. “I mean, I don’t know! He just barged in and started attacking me!”

“Doesn’t mean its not hate-,” Daesung muttered in Youngbae’s ear.

“I can HEAR YOU,” Jiyong hissed, puffing up indignantly. Then, he was reminded of Tempo’s skunk analogy, and purposefully deflated. He sighed and threw himself down on Seungri’s cot.

“How the hell does someone remotely melt a hard drive?” he groaned.

“That doesn’t sound possible,” Youngbae said skeptically. Jiyong recounted his encounter with Tempo.

“At least he still thinks you’re the student whose account you hacked,” Daesung pointed out.

“Thank god for small miracles,” Youngbae muttered. “Why the hell were you even poking around Tempo in the first place? Anyone with half a brain knows that’s just asking to get ed over.”

“ off, Youngbae,” Jiyong snapped. “I had important files on that computer and now they’re all a puddle of goo melting through my desk.”

“That’s what happens when you poke the bear,” Seungri quipped.

Jiyong gave a halfhearted swing at his head.

“I’m going to find him,” he seethed, “and I’m going to make him pay.”

“And thus his descent into insanity begins,” Youngbae sighed. “Lovely.”

He continued to mutter to himself as he left the room. Jiyong closed his eyes and started plotting. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

Jiyong was shaken awake by Seungri.

“I have some information,” he said, “but you’re not going to like it.”

“Just spit it out,” Jiyong sighed.

“The address is located in the produce district in the southern quarter of the city. It’s coming from an apartment complex, Unit 34B, owned by Ms. Kim Jiwon.”

“Tempo’s a girl?” Jiyong asked. “Wow, .”

“Mmm, not necessarily,” Seungri replied. “Kim Jiwon died five years ago. Whoever’s in that apartment now could be anyone.” He handed Jiyong a page of information.

Jiyong scanned the paper. A wolfish grin slid onto his face as he got up and made for the door.

“Where are you going?” Seungri called after his retreating figure. “It’s one in the morning!”

“Cutting my hair,” Jiyong responded, disappearing into the shadows.