Identity Fraud Map 소설 & 이야기

I leaned back in the chair again, staring at the ceiling. “Someone believable,” I said. “Someone powerful enough that Smith Logistics will want to meet me… but mysterious enough they won’t dig too deep.” Sam processed the request instantly. “Identity construction in progress,” he said. Data flickered across the small screen again. Passports. Financial histories. Business records. Tax filings. Investment portfolios. Every detail perfectly constructed. “Make it airtight,” I said quietly. “Level?” I smirked slightly. “So good,” I said, “even I wouldn’t be able to tell it was fake.”

"Hard hats. Clipboards. Have them raid the supply closets of the construction fronts we own." Enzo’s eyes widen as he realizes what I’m planning. "You want to disguise them as city workers." "Gas leak inspectors, municipal surveyors, census workers. Nobody looks twice at a guy in a neon vest holding a clipboard in this city," I explain rapidly. "They blend right into the urban background." Vincent hits a final key, and the massive map on the screen suddenly fractures into hundreds of tiny, color-coded squares. "The sorting is done," Vincent announces. "Green squares are verified owner-occupied or legitimate long-term leases. Yellow squares are commercial or industrial. Red squares are vacant

Whoever it was, they were going to expose my position to the entire colony if I did not do their dirty work, yet they did not have the common decency to let me know their identity. I groaned inwardly and turned the paper over, tracing my index finger over the lines that were tracked with ink. I could tell by looking, that the paper which the message came in was part of a map. I immediately recognized the map that it had been torn out from. It was a piece of the map of the wide and vast wastelands. There was a little ink circle around a spot, and I assumed that it was to mark where Elijah would be when I went to kill him for whoever was keeping my identity secret.

“We’ve checked public records. There is no marriage certificate on file for you and Jordan More. Nor is there any legal documentation linking you to a child named Leo More.” Kayla felt the blood drain from her face. She looked across the table at Liam—his jaw was clenched, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the table. He’d tried to argue against this meeting, to take responsibility for hiring her without proper verification, but Ms. Phoebe had insisted on following protocol. “Is that true?” Mr. Moh asked, leaning forward. “Did you falsify information on your application? Because if you did, that constitutes identity fraud—and it’s grounds for immediate termination, as well as po

Then she climbed onto her lap and said, “I love you more momma.” She buried her head in her chest. Sarah ran her hands through her daughter’s hair lovingly. The screen on the left lit up with a message, ‘You have a visitor, Mr. Zen. Identity unknown.’ ‘Identity Unknown’ there was only one person whose profile turned up results like this. Did that mean Mr. Roy was here already? He was about to tell the probot to let him in but then he halted. If Mr. Roy could delete his digital identity, others could too. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

But he didn't succeed because he was defeated by a female admin staff member wearing glasses who turned out to be a private detective with a black belt certification in karate and was one of the shadow staff that Eldrian had prepared. A real stir broke out when the shocking news hit the media and went viral. A number one technology company in Indonesia arrested four of its employees as mafia due to a case of embezzlement of funds. Apart from that, Daniel's name appeared, and they received direct orders from CEO Eldrian to handle the case. The marketing branch office was immediately excited, they recognized the man who was being hotly discussed in the news.

Sophia read the lines, her fingers suddenly stopping over the keys. "Well? Read it to me," Lina demanded. "The plate's a fake," Sophia said, shaking her head in disbelief. "According to the system, this tag belongs to a 1998 Ford pickup truck registered to some dead farmer out in the countryside." Lina leaned down until her face was inches from the screen, staring at the green text. "Run the vehicle identification number through the insurance registry. Check the backup nodes." Sophia executed the search, and the screen flashed instantly. "Nothing. Zero active insurance. The VIN links straight to a scrapyard that was bulldozed five years ago."

Muttering under his breath, he began digging deeper, bypassing standard firewalls to access provincial birth registries first, then municipal hospital networks, and finally immigration-linked identity logs. Nothing. A faint irritation built in his chest. This level of systemic erasure was highly unusual. It suggested deliberate intent—something far more complex than a mother simply hiding from an ex-partner or navigating standard bureaucracy. He shifted tactics, his fingers flying across the mechanical keyboard. “Run a cross-regional biometric identity match,” he commanded. The system complied, its progress bars flickering against the dark background. Seconds turned into agonizing minutes. S

His name was David Morel, a quiet man with an eye for details most people missed. He had spent years tracing global identity thefts and tracking frauds that crossed continents. If anyone could uncover who those people truly were, it was him. When he answered, I didn’t waste time. “David, I’m sending you something,” I said. “It’s a DNA report, along with documents belonging to two individuals who raised my wife. I need to know everything about them. I want their real identities, their history, every trace of who they were before they became who they are now.”

“She’s been using fake names. Moving from one cheap motel to another across the state.” Pictures flashed on the screen grainy security footage, receipts, fake IDs. “She’s been working small scams,” Marcus continued. “Low-level criminals. People who owe her money. People she blackmailed.” Daniel clenched his fists. “Where is she?” Marcus zoomed the map in. “We have three strong possibilities.” Three red dots appeared. “An abandoned motel in Queens. A storage facility in the Bronx. And an apartment in Newark rented under a fake name last week.” Damien stared at the screen. “That’s three too many.”