My Worst Day in Hunting bugs | Mejbankadir |Mejbankadir — Ethical Hacker | SMH Tech — Mejbankadir.

 Hey everyone, it’s MejbanKadir here. Grab a coffee (or an energy drink, no judgment), kick back, and let me take you on a ride through one of the toughest days I’ve had as an ethical hacker. This one’s straight from the heart — no fluff, no script. Just me, my keyboard, and a whole lot of doubt.

Morning Hype… or So I Thought
I woke up at 7AM, heart pounding with excitement. You know that jolt when you’re about to hunt down vulnerabilities, the adrenaline rush that says, “Today’s the day I find the big one”? That was me, MejbanKadir, in full beast mode. I fueled up with strong tea, double-checked my toolset, and dove headfirst into recon.

By 10AM, I’d fingerprinted three targets: a legacy web app, an obscure IoT device interface, and a private API hiding behind some dodgy-looking tokens. I was convinced I’d spot a glaring bug within minutes. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

Midday Grind and the Dreaded Dry Spell
Noon hit. I’d run more than a dozen tries — nothing high severity. Nada. Even my trusty Burp Suite and custom scripts were playing dead. My eyes burned from staring at logs; my brain felt like mush. I tried techniques I’d perfected over months: SQL injection payloads, XSS fuzzing, SSRF probes, even a bit of blind injection just for kicks. But each HTTP response came back polite and unhelpful: “403 Forbidden,” or the worst of all, “404 Not Found.”

At 2 PM, I took a break. Chugged some water, stretched, tried to clear my head with a quick walk. But the moment I sat back down, my chest tightened with this gnawing question: “Am I even cut out for this?”

Self-Doubt: The Uninvited Fear
There’s a devil on every hacker’s shoulder whispering lies during dry spells. Today, he shouted:

“Maybe you peaked already.”
“Maybe you’re too green to find real bugs.”
“Maybe it’s time to pick a new career path.”

I shook my head, tried to slam those thoughts away, but they stuck like stubborn stains. And the more I tried to scrub them out, the louder they became. At one point, I stared at my reflection in the screen: sweaty brow, red-rimmed eyes, half a day wasted and zero trophies to show for it.

The Late-Afternoon Slump
By 4 PM, I’d resorted to brainstorming: could there be weird serialization bugs? Maybe some deserialization madness in that private API? I spun up a local proxy, tweaked headers, replayed traffic… only to hear crickets.

My confidence was crumbling. I even entertained the idea of switching to something “easier” tomorrow — like web development or CTF challenges. But something inside me — the MejbanKadir grit — rebelled. I remembered why I started: that electrifying thrill when you crack open a system and watch secrets spill out. That’s the high I chase, and I wasn’t ready to give it up.

At 6 PM, I decided to pivot. Instead of brute-forcing the same vectors, I dove deep into the target’s business logic. I read every error message, every commented line in the JS files, every hidden field in the HTML. And though I still didn’t find a solid bug, I discovered something even more valuable: context.

I learned how the app handled sessions, how tokens were refreshed, what the user roles really meant. That knowledge — priceless. It’s the kind of insight that primes you for success when the real vulnerability shows up.

Wrapping Up (or Trying To)
By 8 PM, I closed my tools. No CVEs to report today, no “pwned” badges in my profile. Just a log of commands I’ll review tomorrow, a list of ideas for fresh attacks, and a heart full of lessons learned.

Yeah, it sucks when you invest 14 hours and come away empty-handed. But here’s the truth: every hacker — heck, every professional — hits walls. The measure of success isn’t the number of bugs you find, but the resilience you show when you don’t find any.

Why I Keep Grinding
So why stick with this madness? Because I’m MejbanKadir, and this chase defines me. The highs are electric, the lows are humbling, and the road is never smooth. But every late night, every failed exploit, every self-doubt spiral is fuel. Fuel that sharpens my skills, deepens my patience, and readies me for the next hunt.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up, recharge with caffeine (and maybe a donut), and go at it again. Because real hacking isn’t about instant glory — it’s about the grind, the curiosity, and the unshakable belief that the next big find is just around the corner.

Thanks for riding shotgun on this emotional rollercoaster. If you ever feel stuck, remember: even the best bug hunters have off days. Keep pushing, keep learning, and one day you’ll look back and see that every “zero-bug” day was a stepping stone to mastery. Stay curious, stay hungry, and never stop being the MejbanKadir of your own journey.