Chapter 78: Night of Desperation

Philip slumped in his worn-out swivel chair, staring at the screen in front of him. His bloodshot and drooping eyes were glued to the lines of code on the screen. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pounding headache that was throbbing. Empty coffee cups littered the desk, and the remnants of a cold pizza lay discarded in the corner. A curse escaped his lips as the system slowed down because of the load on it, the progress bar inching forward at a snail's pace. "Come on, you piece of junk," he muttered, fingers tapping impatiently on the desk. He glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen: 5:47 AM. He had been at this for hours, and yet he was no closer to finding the culprit who had wiped the project files from the company's servers. He looked tired. His shirt was wrinkled and stained with coffee, his usually neat hair was sticking up in every direction, and his glasses were smudged and slipping down his nose. He reached up to adjust them, his hand trembling slightly fro