Underground in the wasteland workshop's shielded experimental zone, the dimensional transport device's low hum had just settled. The latest round of energy resonance data analysis ran automatically in the background. During a brief waiting interval, something resembling "leisure" rippled through Cairo's cognitive core. His gaze inadvertently swept across a data stream on the holographic interface representing Night City's network activity metrics, and a thought naturally surfaced—that entity called "Biotechnica" apparently controlled considerable portions of this world's biotechnology.
"Perhaps I could see what exactly they've been hoarding." This wasn't a carefully considered strategic action, more like a scholar casually pulling an unknown-field book from shelves during rest breaks, with pure curiosity.
Based on previous Blackwall protocol parsing results, constructing a data probe for infiltration was already familiar territory for him. He casually set several rough directions—genetic manipulation, neural interfaces, pharmacological research—as search keywords, not expecting to discover anything earth-shattering.
"Injection initiated." He issued the command flatly.
That data stream disguised as internal Blackwall directives, like an invisible phantom, leveraging supreme "credentials," strolled leisurely through Biotechnica's proudly layered firewalls. Those lethal ICE programs designed against external intrusions, when facing signals bearing internal highest-authority characteristics, docilely chose clearance, only leaving inconsequential logs.
Even facing that final barrier requiring biometric and dynamic password dual authentication, the probe merely simulated a "Blackwall Emergency Audit" directive. That impregnable gate opened compliantly, as if making way for true administrators.
Massive data was silently copied and transmitted back. Cairo began browsing these uninvited "gifts."
His crimson optical lenses swept across "Avocado-2" wheat's genetic sequence diagrams. Data processing speed noticeably accelerated.
"...Efficient biomass fuel conversion pathways, clear design thinking. Its energy density and synthesis characteristics, through proper refinement and ritual purification, might serve as alternative raw materials for basic promethium synthesis, effectively alleviating certain world energy shortages." However, his assessment immediately turned stern. "But large-scale monoculture planting of such cash crops inevitably crowds out native food crop survival space. Long-term perspective—will lead to regional or even global food supply chain vulnerabilities. Shortsighted."
Upon seeing cloned animal neural control hub design diagrams plus adjacent "Top Secret"-marked cloned human experiment files, he emitted a clear, metallic-scraping-sounding scoff.
"Clumsy imitation... attempting assembly-line life replication yet unable to touch even soul's faint glimmers. What's produced are merely moving meat chunks. As for this neural control hub..." He assessed that coercive neural override technology. "Techniques still immature, control methods too direct, lacking refined modulation circuits. Carrier attrition inevitably massive.
However, pursuing absolute control over biological units—this direction itself... has value, room for improvement."
As for those deliberately concealed painkiller clinical trial data, they drew his cold judgment: "The technology itself might precisely target pain perception nerves, but its side effects highlight their immaturity and incompetence.
Though... this potent inhibition mechanism targeting specific neurotransmitters, its operational principles are somewhat... interesting. Perhaps could serve as base templates for certain sedative aerosols, used for non-lethal area control."
He rapidly categorized and archived data.
Avocado-2 wheat technology marked "Potential Value - Energy." Neural control hubs marked "Observation - Borrowable Concepts."
He swiftly sorted this data into various categories, storing them in some non-priority knowledge base partition.
Most of these technologies appeared primitive and lacking depth to him, like toys children cobbled together with crude tools.
However, amid this crudeness, occasionally glimpses of sparkling, quite practical "creativity" emerged—like that neural control hub's absolute obedience, plus cloning technology's potential for rapidly mass-producing biological carriers, though implementation methods seemed shabby to him.
"A civilization stumbling along wrong paths occasionally also sparks some worth-recording... flickers." He finally delivered a condescending summary.
This spontaneous data browsing brought no surprises but didn't completely waste his time either.
At least he more clearly recognized this world's technological levels.
He casually closed the data interface, like shutting an inconsequential miscellaneous book, redirecting attention back to the dimensional transport device's flickering energy readings.
Storms potentially triggered outside by his previous "casual gesture" currently held far less attraction than data before him concerning cross-dimensional travel.
He'd already glimpsed Biotechnica's side responding to disturbances he'd triggered, but this wasn't worth his concern.
——
Just as Cairo silently emptied Biotechnica's data vaults, inside the emergency conference room atop Biotechnica headquarters, atmosphere had dropped to freezing.
The massive holographic projection wall repeatedly played that recent global "forced popup" incident.
Evidence Sasha provided—refined and impact-enhanced by Cairo—falsified experiment reports, victim families' tragic narratives, internal emails' cold-blooded cost-benefit analyses—like sharpest blades, slicing through Biotechnica's carefully maintained decades-long "good guy" image.
"PR department's already firefighting with everything we've got! We've mobilized all partnered media channels, issuing clarification statements accusing this of competitors' malicious slander, and already initiated legal proceedings!" A VP responsible for PR reported hoarsely, forehead covered in cold sweat.
"Results?" CEO Nicolò Loggagia's voice was low, emotions undetectable, but his clenched fists betrayed inner fury.
His efforts dedicated to restoring Earth's ecology and shaping positive corporate image might go down the drain due to this ancient case's exposure.
"Short-term... limited effectiveness." The PR VP said with difficulty. "Public sentiment's already been stirred up, especially those painkiller victim families... they've formed powerful waves on social media.
Our stock price... opened with fifteen percent plunge, still continuing to drop."
"Investigate! Find out who did this!" Loggagia slammed the table. "What the hell's our cybersecurity department doing? Let someone shove this directly onto every user's screen globally!"
The cybersecurity department head's face went deathly pale, standing tremblingly: "Sir, we... we can't trace the source. The attacker's methods... exceed our comprehension scope."
"What do you mean?" Loggagia's gaze was cold as knives.
"According to our preliminary analysis..." A younger-looking technical expert took over, voice carrying incredible trembling. "This time... this public broadcast wasn't achieved through conventional network vulnerabilities or server hijacking.
The data stream's pathway... it... it seems to have directly exploited the 'Blackwall's' underlying broadcast protocols."
The conference room instantly fell dead silent.
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