"We need a makeover," Adi declared. "Manav, you’re the tech genius. Find us some inspiration. How do we look rich?"
Suddenly, his webcam light turned on—a steady, unblinking green eye. Rohan froze, a half-eaten sandwich in hand. From his speakers, a distorted version of the movie’s theme song began to play, slowing down until it sounded like a funeral dirge. A notification popped up in the corner of his screen: File uploaded: browser_passwords.txt. Then another: File uploaded: banking_details.csv.