"Boss, since midnight yesterday, our site and servers have been getting slammed by a massive wave of hacker attacks. Along with a huge number of domestic IPs, we're seeing a ton of cyberattacks originating from Europe and North America."
"Our team has spotted chatter on several underground forums; it looks like people are very interested in that million-dollar bounty," Zack reported.
Nick leaned in to look at the attack data on the screen and shook his head. "They have ulterior motives. What these people are really after is our AI architecture. Compared to that code, what's a million bucks?"
"If you knew that would happen, why did you announce the bounty in the first place? Isn't that just painting a bullseye on our backs?" Zack asked, sounding puzzled.
Nick smiled. "If I hadn't made it official, do you think they would've just left us alone? Do you really think those shiny, glamorous conglomerates don't have teams doing dirty work in the shadows?"
"I get it now. These different attack vectors... they aren't just script kiddies. It looks like the pros at the big tech firms are making their move," Zack realized.
Nick chuckled. "It hasn't reached that point yet. Those guys still want to save face. At most, they'll hire some 'independent' black hats to probe our defenses first. They aren't going to get their own hands dirty just yet. How's the firewall holding up?"
"Like a fortress. Except for a few waves that managed to punch through the outer perimeter, everything's been blocked by the primary firewall. We even managed to trace quite a few real IP addresses. Should we hand them over to the cybercrime unit?" Zack grinned.
Nick waved it off. "Forget it. Those are just the small fry; catching them doesn't change anything. Just send a 'ping' back as a warning. Keep your eyes on the ones who actually broke the first layer—those are the threats. I suspect this was just the reconnaissance phase. The real offensive is coming."
"I'm not worried about the website, but the servers are a different story. These temporary cloud servers we're renting probably won't hold up under a serious DDoS or a sophisticated breach attempt," Zack said, his brow furrowed.
Nick thought for a moment. "Don't sweat the cloud servers too much; just focus on protecting our core database. The OS on our devices is a closed loop—external code can't be written into it—so their only choice is to go after our servers. We're safe for now, but we need to stop them from making a mess. If the volume keeps scaling, they'll eventually find a seam."
"The core server is locked down," Zack assured him. "I've got specialized tech teams monitoring it 24/7. With our custom firewall, we're solid. But we can't just let them hammer us indefinitely; it's going to interfere with our actual business operations."
"Yeah, we can't let them run wild."
Nick pondered for a second, then said, "How about this: set up a live leaderboard on the homepage. Post the real-time IPs of the biggest troublemakers for everyone to see."
"I love it. A public wall of shame should make these guys think twice," Zack's eyes lit up.
In the hacker world, posting an IP is the ultimate warning. It's a way of saying, "I know exactly where you live." If you don't back off, the next step is a call to the authorities or a direct counter-strike. Usually, when an IP ends up on a public board, it's the moment a hacker starts looking for a plane ticket to a non-extradition country.
"Tell the team to hang in there for a few more days. Once the first wave of revenue hits, we'll build our own server farm. Cloud is fine for some things, but for the core stuff, we need our own hardware," Nick said.
Zack nodded. "We're on it. By the way, the backend shows a massive spike in active users. Should we pull the trigger on the Virtual Service Hall?"
The Virtual Service Hall was a project Nick and the team had designed to handle customer support. Instead of a traditional call center, users would interact directly with the smart voice program. It was a massive stress test for the technology. If it succeeded, they planned to pitch the system to hospitals, 911 dispatch centers, and corporate customer service departments.
Inside the hall, users could get help with tech issues, but more importantly, it housed a marketplace for virtual upgrades.
For instance, the various voice profiles and age settings Nick demoed at the keynote weren't all free. The device came with a few standard voices; if you wanted a premium tone, you had to buy it in the hall.
This was the "razor and blade" strategy. It was why they sold the hardware so cheaply and insisted on account registration. A high price tag would have slowed down adoption, and a monthly subscription might have turned off casual users. Instead, they targeted specific desires. Most people wouldn't mind dropping ten bucks for a voice that sounded like a movie star.
Once they had the user base, they'd launch celebrity-voiced packs for the high-end market. Building a massive, engaged user base was far more valuable than the profit margin on a single headset. In the tech world, if you own the gateway to the users, the money finds you.
"Open the Virtual Service Hall," Nick decided. "People are going to have questions. But hold off on the marketplace. Let's wait until we hit a million users before we open the store."
"Why wait? Wouldn't it be better to start the cash flow now?" Zack asked.
Nick grinned. "We have to let the users fall in love with the device first. If we give them everything at once, the novelty wears off. If we drip-feed the 'surprises,' they stay engaged and more likely to spend. We'll give them a few weeks to get used to Kacy, then we drop the 'new voices' update. It'll drive a much bigger spike in sales."
"Got it." Zack flashed a knowing smile.
People are funny like that—if you give them the whole meal at once, they're full and move on. If you bring out a dessert they didn't expect, they're thrilled. Why settle for one "thank you" when you can get ten?