Waqas listened more than he spoke. His hands moved with economy, as if every tap had a memory. He kept the updated suite on an old laptop—dozens of small programs, some official tools dressed in plain names, others murky and unofficial, patched and repatched. He treated each app like an instrument in an orchestra: choosing the right one for the phone’s year, its chipset, its stubbornness. Sometimes success was a few minutes and a soft whoop; sometimes it was a long patience, an iterative trial across five or ten apps before the screen surrendered.