HACKERLAB 2023
What is HackerLab?
HackerLab is Benin’s national cybersecurity competition - a CTF run by the Agency for Information Systems and Digital (ASIN) since 2017. Forensics, web, crypto, reversing, stego, pwn - the full spectrum. It’s not a simulation. It’s a proving ground.
Prizes include certifications, CEH/OSCP training, high-speed internet, and a direct pipeline into bjCSIRT or private sector security roles.
My Road to HackerLab 2023
Returning to the Fire
- I competed under the handle 7h3 b15h0p, captaining team M3V7R. Tight unit - methodical, hungry, and dangerously focused. I didn’t come to participate. I came to win, learn, and build the foundation for what came next.
Qualification Mayhem
A full month of pure hacking. No pacing. No marathon strategy. Just an all-out sprint where every second counts.
The qualifier format is as unpredictable as it is brutal:
- The Basics: Classic categories, available in bulk, sometimes with surprise drops that keep you guessing.
- The Qualification Stages: Wild cards. You unlock them by solving previous challenges - each one a mystery box. Categories jump, difficulty spikes, and the only constant is uncertainty.
That unpredictability doesn’t just test technical skill - it tests resilience, adaptability, and how much you trust your team. For those weeks, we lived and breathed CTF. Nothing else existed.
Synergy was our edge. Everyone locked into their strengths, passing roadblocks to teammates, pushing each other past what we thought were limits. We attacked the board with manic focus, each flag fueling the next. As hours bled together, exhaustion turned into momentum.
The result? We finished every single challenge. Every mystery box opened, every flag captured. Not luck - coordination, relentless hustle, and a hunger that refused to quit.
Notable moments:
- Snagging first bloods on a string of Qualification Stages - until Heviosso overtook us on one. That moment sent shockwaves through the team. Suddenly the competition was alive.
- The surreal feeling when we unlocked a new Qualification Stage… and nothing appeared. We’d finished. Every puzzle solved.
We ended qualifiers as the top team. That win was the sum of every late night, every argument, every plan, and every ounce of trust we’d built together.
The Grand Stage: Palais des Congres
October hit, and suddenly it was real. Walking through the doors of the Palais des Congres, the scale of the finals slammed into me - bright lights, sea of people, electric tension in the air.
Faces I’d only known as avatars came to life. Rivals I’d argued with online, others I’d quietly respected - all here in the flesh. People are so different in person. Quieter, more focused, the online bravado replaced by real tension. No more hiding behind keyboards.
The opening ceremony felt surreal. ASIN and national security leaders on stage, delivering speeches. I tried to listen, but my focus had already narrowed to a single point: what came next.
Group photo - a blur of nervous smiles and camera flashes - then the random seat draw. That moment felt like a drumroll. No more distractions. No more second-guessing.
Game time.
Let the Finals Begin
Mental and Technical Prep
VMs tuned, notes ready, custom scripts and aliases loaded. The technical side was handled.
But no script can automate mindset. The finals aren’t just about hacking - they’re about holding the line when your eyes burn, adapting when nothing works, keeping your emotions in check when frustration takes over. Endurance isn’t optional here. It’s the actual competition.
I didn’t just prep my machine - I prepped my mind. Meditation before the storm, steady breathing, clearing the noise. I visualized the grind: staring down a stubborn challenge, the thrill of a flag dropping, the pain of falling behind, the determination to get back up.
The only thing separating contenders from champions is what you do when everything inside you wants to quit.
Team Strategy (Or Lack Thereof)
Every flag felt like a surgical strike - clean, precise, hard-earned. But the scoreboard only tells half the story.
Our biggest mistake - and one that feels almost inevitable for first-timers - was having no real strategy. We fought on instinct, believing raw skill and brute force would carry us. Solve, submit, move on. At no point did we stop and ask: “Should we have a bigger plan?”
That cost us.
We ran headfirst into veteran teams who didn’t just play harder - they played smarter. Strategies honed, moves calculated. We learned the hard way: strategy wins wars, not just strength. That loss stung, but like every real setback, it became our greatest lesson.
Legends of 2023
A few players deserve a mention for showing us what “next level” looks like:
R4nd_n4me: Also from Epitech. Soloed every single stegano challenge - including r3s0lv3r’s notoriously tedious puzzles. My team didn’t even scratch them. Watching R4nd_n4me work was like watching someone solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded.
Heviosso: Not just because they won, but for their sheer speed. I chatted with one of their members after - he admitted they were just as wary of us as we were of them. They were the only team we truly feared. Like us, they did math on paper mid-CTF. Every time I see that, I know I’m facing a real threat.
We crossed swords with the best. Every one of them earned our respect.
Highlights & Challenge Set
The 2023 finals were a gauntlet of creativity. Shoutout to the creators: rimd0r, 5c0r7, w1z4rd, unpasswd, r3s0lv3r (his challenges are pure puzzles - his mind works like Haskell code, if you know, you know).
We found our rhythm on the forensics-heavy side of the board - home turf. That’s where we vibed, and that’s where we left our mark.
But it wasn’t all digital. The organizers threw in physical challenges - lockpicking, push-ups, games in the middle of the cyber warfare. Classic HackerLab curveballs.
Lockpicking stood out. Only two teams completed it: open two padlocks in under one minute. No resets, no margin for error. I’d never picked a lock before that day. Heart pounding, hands shaking, room dead silent except for the clock. When the lock popped - disbelief mixed with pure joy. First time, but definitely not the last. It’s become a genuine hobby since. If you’re curious, LockNoob’s channel is a goldmine.
Our Final Standing
We went all in and left nothing behind. Every hour was a test. When the dust settled: 4th place. Just shy of the podium, but heads unbowed.
We drew blood on most challenges. On some, we were the only team to solve them. That’s something I’ll never forget.
If I’m honest, I barely stopped to appreciate the challenge quality. My mind was locked on one thing: growth. Not glory, not showing off. Just proving - to ourselves, and maybe to everyone watching - that we belonged up there.
Brotherhood and Beers (Well, Water)
The social side? Rough.
From the first minute, we felt like outsiders. Maybe it was school rivalry, maybe it was the way we came in as underdogs with something to prove. The rejection from other teams was palpable. No warm welcome. Tension thick enough to cut.
And you know what? We expected nothing, so nothing could hurt us. We didn’t come for the afterparty. We came for the fight. No beers - just water and grit.
That isolation brought us closer. We were our own tribe, our own source of strength. We didn’t need anyone’s validation. The outsider status became our fuel. We laughed about it, owned it, and walked out knowing we’d done something special.
Lessons Learned
- Preparation is nonlinear. A tool you learned 6 months ago might save your final hour.
- Sleep matters. Brain fog is real. Rotate and tag out when you can.
- Internal demons are louder than any scoreboard. Learn to shut them down.
- Having a strategy is everything. Being strong isn’t enough - you have to think like it’s a war, because it is.
For Future Contenders
If you’re aiming for HackerLab (or any serious CTF):
- Build your own toolkit - don’t rely on shared notes.
- Learn the basics in categories that scare you. (I’m saying this and still can’t do a manual SQLi. Working on it.)
- Practice solo, then in teams. Both build different muscles.
- Never underestimate the first 24 hours of a 48-hour CTF.
- Mindset is half the battle. If you think you can’t, you won’t.
- Trust is non-negotiable. If you don’t trust someone on your team, address it before the competition. A smaller, tighter team beats a bigger, fractured one.
- Document everything - especially mistakes. You’ll forget your clever tricks. Your failures are the real gold.
- Take care of your body. Hydrate, stretch, sleep when you can. Burnout is real and it hits mid-competition.
- When you hit a wall, walk away for 5 minutes. The answer often comes when you stop staring at the screen.
Tactical Guide for CTF Team Captains
Leading a CTF team isn’t about barking orders. It’s about turning individuals into a unit that fights together, wins together, and grows together.
1. Know Your Troops
Understand your team beyond their skillset.
- Play to strengths. Don’t reassign someone’s specialty during a final “to challenge them.” That’s training time, not game time.
- Read the room. Some players burn bright and fast, others are slow-burning engines. Some need silence, others need energy. Watch, listen, adapt.
2. Define Strategy Before the Clock Starts
No battle is won by accident.
- Simulate before you play. Run at least two full-intensity practice CTFs. Feel the pressure, the fatigue, the real-time communication overhead.
- Decide in advance:
- Who submits flags?
- How do you resolve disputes?
- Who monitors the scoreboard for shifts?
- Who documents everything so nothing slips?
3. Rotation and Endurance
Burnout is the silent killer.
- Sleep is a necessity, not a luxury. Build a rotation. Two hours of sleep saves you from five hours of fog.
- Fight fatigue as a team, not as individuals.
4. Tactics Over Talent
You don’t win finals by brute force alone.
- Prioritize categories. Watch other teams. Predict, counter, strike where it hurts.
- The slow, tactical team that picks its battles will outlast the team throwing itself at everything blindly.
5. Trust & Respect
A team isn’t a collection of skills. It’s a bond.
- Trust is everything. Four players with total trust will always outperform five with friction.
- Debrief every time - not just technically, but emotionally. Let everyone speak. What broke us? What brought us together? These conversations build the next victory.
6. Captain’s Toolkit
Every good captain has a playbook:
- Notes on your team’s unique strengths
- Battle-tested scripts and aliases
- Mental models for tough situations
- Routines that rally morale when it dips
This notebook is your compass when things go sideways.
7. Don’t Chase Glory Alone
The best captains win by making others shine.
- Your job isn’t to rack up the most solves. It’s to make sure the whole team comes out on top.
- Celebrate every win. Learn from every loss. True leadership is measured by the legacy you leave in your team, not on the scoreboard.
Final Reflections
HackerLab 2023 was a crucible. I walked in thinking I was prepared. I was naive.
No matter how beautiful our victories felt in the moment, history remembers the winners. The victors write the story. The rest of us tell it from the sidelines. That’s what I’m doing now.
But I didn’t leave with nothing. I left with something more dangerous than a trophy: hunger. The kind that cuts deeper than any defeat. During HackerLab, every illusion I had about my own skill was shattered. For the first time, I saw the real gaps - the places where I simply wasn’t enough. I tasted frustration, even anger. Not at anyone else. At the version of myself that thought this would be easy.
That’s not the end of the story. I left changed. Forged by the losses, not destroyed by them. I became obsessed with coming back - not to beat others, but to beat my own limits. I trained harder, studied deeper, and every setback sharpened my resolve.
We didn’t leave with trophies. We left with scars. And scars are proof that champions aren’t born - they’re built. HackerLab 2023 was the end of my innocence, and the start of something far more powerful: the hunger to come back and write a different ending.
In 2024, the story was different.
1+ year of procrastination led to this writeup. No regrets.
See you at the next battlefield.
ka3n1x