Jason returned to San Francisco to find the city whispering his name.
Not in praise.
In calculation.
The old guard of Silicon Valley—venture capitalists, unicorn founders, tenured tech titans—were no longer laughing at the upstart billionaire with the social media empire. They were sharpening their knives.
And someone had already made the first cut.
Naomi threw a dossier onto the table in PulseCast's downtown war room.
"Two of our backend engineers got poached by HelioTech. And they weren't just lured—they were incentivized with IPO-bound stock options and gag orders."
Jason flipped through the papers. "HelioTech. Financed by Valkyrie Capital."
Naomi's jaw clenched. "Same people that tried to buy PulseCast last year."
He closed the dossier slowly. "So it begins."
---
The next morning, Jason walked into a surprise ambush at a tech conference he was keynoting.
The moderator, a smug tech journalist, dropped the bomb five minutes in.
"There are rumors, Jason, that PulseCast's engagement data has been... artificially inflated through coordinated bot networks."
Jason didn't flinch.
"We built PulseCast with organic network effects," he said smoothly. "Our growth didn't come from bots—it came from giving people what they were starved for: authenticity. The legacy platforms made people the product. We gave them a voice."
Applause rose from the crowd—but not from the journalists in the back row, who were already live-tweeting the exchange.
Later that day, two hit pieces dropped within minutes of each other.
"The Dark Side of PulseCast: Is It Too Good to Be Real?"
"Inside the Bot Allegations Rocking Silicon Valley's Darling Startup"
Both articles were sourced anonymously.
Both were funded, Jason discovered later, through a shell entity linked to—you guessed it—Valkyrie Capital.
---
Jason didn't retaliate with press releases.
He retaliated with code.
That weekend, he personally led the dev team on a surprise launch: PulseCast Communities—invite-only microforums that allowed creators to host gated spaces, monetize exclusive content, and drive exponential user retention.
It broke user activity records within 72 hours.
Even better?
It crushed engagement on the apps of their nearest rivals.
Naomi smirked at the metrics. "You just turned their smear campaign into free PR."
Jason leaned against the window of their glass-walled HQ, watching the skyline glow under dusk.
"They drew first blood," he said. "Now I'm returning the favor. Quietly."
---
But it wasn't all quiet.
That same night, Jason received a call from his personal attorney.
"We have credible evidence there's an SEC probe forming," she said. "Triggered by complaints filed anonymously—accusing PulseCast of insider trading and fabricated metrics."
Jason's expression didn't change.
"Good. Let them dig. The deeper they go, the cleaner we'll look."
A pause.
"And if they don't find anything?" she asked.
Jason's tone darkened.
"Then they'll realize they picked the wrong man to corner."