Rebecca quickly scanned the content within the forced window. It clearly listed a detailed component analysis of a best-selling painkiller released by Biotechnica years ago, undisclosed failed clinical trial data, and internal email correspondence.
The evidence conclusively showed that the company had long known about the drug's severe side effects, which caused neurological degeneration and eventual death in users. Yet, for massive profits, it deliberately concealed this and continued sales.
At the bottom of the window, some known victim information was highlighted in bold. Although anonymized, behind those cold statistics lay countless broken families and silently vanished lives.
"Holy shit—" Rebecca cursed under her breath, her heart uncontrollably accelerating.
She instantly understood what this was—the "Blackwall Announcement" her boss had promised! He had actually done it, and in such an all-encompassing, unstoppable way!
As Rebecca reeled from the shock, she noticed that Kiwi opposite her was in a very strange state.
The hacker, usually calm and even somewhat aloof, now had fine beads of cold sweat on her forehead, and her face was pale. Her fingers rapidly tapped and swiped in the air, clearly engaged in an intense counter-operation within her neural interface.
But her movements lasted less than three seconds before they abruptly stopped, as if an invisible force had brutally choked her deck.
She let out a muffled grunt, leaning back against the chair, her chest rising and falling slightly, her eyes filled with incredulous horror.
"It's you—no, it's not you—" Kiwi suddenly looked up, her gaze like a knife piercing Rebecca, her voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremor, "That—that was an entity. It came through the Blackwall—"
Her words were somewhat disjointed due to shock. As a hacker who had long operated on the fringes of the net, she understood what had just happened far better than most people in the bar.
That wasn't a normal hack; it was a near-miraculous global broadcast that utilized the inherent characteristics of the Blackwall protocol itself!
The moment she attempted to counter, what she felt wasn't the resistance of an ordinary firewall, but rather as if she were facing a boundless, dark ocean composed of rules and code.
Her meager hacking skills were as insignificant before that power as trying to shake a skyscraper with a toothpick. Just the information flow and authority pressure that bounced back upon contact nearly burned out her implant's protective circuits, causing her to almost go braindead on the spot.
Decking using the Blackwall? This was completely outside her cognitive framework! This had already gone beyond the realm of "preem technical skill" and touched upon an area she couldn't comprehend.
While Kiwi was still reeling in fear, her mind racing to figure out which legendary hacker or national-level power was behind this, Rebecca mumbled something under her breath, her tone filled with a proud excitement: "Damn—as expected of the boss! He really went full nuke!"
These words struck Kiwi like a bolt of lightning.
She sharply turned her head, staring fixedly at Rebecca, her previous panic replaced by an extremely fervent curiosity and desire to investigate.
"Boss?" Kiwi's voice was very low, but carried an undeniable urgency, "Rebecca! You know who ran that? That—that thing that used the Blackwall—was it your 'behind-the-scenes boss'?"
Rebecca froze for a moment, realizing she had let something slip. She instinctively tried to brush it off, her eyes flickering: "Huh? What boss? I don't know what you're talking about—maybe some big shot who had a grudge against Biotechnica made a move?"
But how could Kiwi be fooled by her clumsy act?
She leaned forward across the table, her gaze almost pinning Rebecca's eyes: "Don't play dumb! What you just said, and your reaction now—you definitely know something! Tell me, Rebecca, who was it that made the move just now?"
Rebecca grew a bit annoyed under Kiwi's scrutiny. She scratched her head, knowing she couldn't hide it any longer. Moreover, seeing Kiwi's extreme interest in the boss's technical prowess, a thought arose in her mind—perhaps this was an opportunity?
"Alright, alright!" Rebecca seemed to give up resistance, but a hint of cunning flashed in her eyes, "Yeah, that whole thing was our boss' doing. How about it? Awesome, right?"
She said it with a deliberate tone of showing off.
Kiwi ignored her tone and pressed on: "Who is he? What is he? How in the hell could he—how could he pull off a move like that?"
"The boss is just the boss, you know." Rebecca shrugged, starting to spin a tale, while also mixing in a bit of her own "sales pitch": "A—hmm, a guy with unreal tech skills, a bit of a weird temper, but generous. We're workin' for him now. You wanna know more? Simple, accept the gig, join us, and maybe you'll get a chance to meet him in person and ask him yourself."
She paused, remembering Osiris' emotionless mechanical face and the principle of equivalent exchange, then added: "But I gotta warn you, the boss doesn't have a very good temper, and he never allows anyone to freeload. If you want to get anything from him, whether it's knowledge, tech, or gear, you must pay a sufficient price as a transaction. No free lunch; that's an ironclad rule with the boss."
Kiwi fell silent.
Her face under the hood was hidden in shadow, her expression unclear, only her slightly pursed lips indicating the fierce struggle within her.
She was filled with an uncontrollable curiosity about the boss Rebecca spoke of, and an instinctive yearning as a technologist facing technology beyond her comprehension. The technical prowess and knowledge system behind being able to manipulate the Blackwall were beyond her imagination.
Even a tiny bit of guidance, or simply observing and learning up close, could be a qualitative leap for her hacking career.
But on the other hand, her deeply ingrained lone wolf habits made her instinctively reject and guard against things like "joining a crew" or "pledging allegiance." This meant losing freedom, entrusting her safety to others, something she had avoided for years.
Risk and opportunity weighed heavily in her mind.
The music at Lizzie's Bar had resumed, and the surrounding patrons had also recovered from their initial shock, beginning to discuss the source and purpose of the "data storm" that had swept the city.
Against this gradually returning din, Kiwi finally looked up. Her eyes had regained their previous calm, but deep within them, a spark of resolve had appeared.
"Good." She looked at Rebecca, her voice clear and steady, "I'll join."
This time it was Rebecca's turn to be a little surprised: "You sure? You thought it through? Our boss has a lot of rules, and the work we'll be doing next probably won't be any easier than what happened today."
"I'm sure." Kiwi nodded, "But I have one condition, or rather—a request. I hope you can arrange for me to meet this 'boss' as soon as possible. I need to confirm if he—is worthy of my loyalty."
She used the word "loyalty," not simply "cooperation."
"I'll have to ask Maine and the boss himself about that." Rebecca didn't immediately promise, "But don't worry, since you've agreed, you're one of us now. I'll buzz you back as soon as possible."
She raised her glass, still half-full, and gestured to Kiwi: "Welcome aboard, Kiwi. Though the days ahead are probably going to be even more f*cking exciting."
Kiwi didn't raise her glass, only gave a slight nod.
She picked up her comms device and silently changed Rebecca's contact note from "Potential Client" to "Teammate Under Observation".
She was still filled with uncertainty and caution about the future, but her thirst for ultimate technology had temporarily overridden everything else.
She wanted to know who this boss who could move the Blackwall truly was. And what kind of path this choice would lead her down.