Chapter 161: The Guest
Deep within the Badlands manufactorum, time flowed steadily in precise seconds.
Joric reallocated the majority of his primary consciousness's computational power. He dedicated it to the systematic sorting and archiving of the massive data from Mikoshi, the deep modeling analysis of Bartmoss's neural structure, and the continuous fine-tuning of the operational parameters of the dimensional teleporter.
Simultaneously, an independent and efficient background process ran silently. Like a loyal sentry lurking in the shadows, it continuously monitored two key areas.
First, the readings of the life support system of the bio-tank preserving Bartmoss's body. Second, the real-time status logs and any abnormal activity of the manufactorum's perimeter network firewall.
The priority of the alerts from the firewall was set to "Low."
This was not due to negligence or dismissal, but a calm assessment based on absolute confidence in his own technology.
This digital fortress, personally constructed by Joric, had its underlying protocols rooted in the ancient wisdom of the Martian Mechanicus data-forts, fused with complex defensive logic designed to counter warp-data turbulence and xenos-tech intrusion.
Before such tiered defense, the common cyberattack methods of the Cyberpunk world—whether standardized penetration scripts from corporate security departments or malicious code carefully crafted by top local netrunners—appeared primitive and inefficient. The gap was akin to challenging indestructible Adamantine power armor with a stone axe.
Therefore, when that unfamiliar data stream first touched the outermost detection nodes of the firewall, Joric's processing core merely calmly recorded the coordinates, energy intensity, and basic signature coding of the contact.
He took no proactive response measures, did not attempt to trace the source, nor did he immediately reinforce the defense system.
This firewall itself was the first, and currently the only, filter he had set up, designed to distinguish valuable observation subjects from meaningless digital noise.
The intrusion attempts continued.
The data stream exhibited extraordinary patience and operational delicacy.
It seemed to quickly realize that brute force was ineffective and switched to a more circuitous strategy. Its behavioral pattern resembled a highly skilled locksmith, constantly changing virtual tools and cracking methods, meticulously probing the defense strength and potential reaction patterns of every logical interface in the firewall.
It had simulated harmless system update packets, disguised itself as standard handshake requests from trusted internal hardware, and even attempted to activate and exploit ancient vulnerabilities in the local civilian network protocol stack that had long been forgotten by the era.
Joric's crimson optical lenses stared steadily at the firewall logs scrolling continuously on the main console. The massive data stream fell like a waterfall, instantly parsed and categorized by his efficient mental core.
He noticed that this "guest's" intrusion strategy was not chaotic. Its behavioral pattern revealed a systematic quality honed by rigorous logical training, while faintly carrying a certain unconventional, almost non-human, intuitive understanding of the underlying nature of data.
Its code structure was exceptionally streamlined and efficient, with almost no redundant probing steps. Every strategic shift pointed precisely at theoretically weak links that might exist within the firewall's construction logic.
"Intrusion attempt frequency stable. Strategy iteration cycle averages 3.7 seconds," Joric's synthesized voice whispered in the empty workshop, as if recording experimental data. "Attack pattern demonstrates profound understanding of basic network protocol evolution. Technical roots traceable to the mid-phase construction of the 'Old Net.' Excluding contemporary corporate and common rogue AI behavioral patterns."
In his logic-core, the weight of the "Interest" variable was adjusted slightly higher.
This "guest" did not rely on brute force or known exploits but was attempting to understand and crack a completely unfamiliar defense system.
This behavior itself held extremely high research value.
It proved that the consciousness behind it possessed powerful learning and adaptive capabilities, rather than being a low-level AI reliant on fixed attack patterns.
Joric still took no countermeasures. He wanted to see more.
What was the limit of this "guest's" patience? When conventional methods proved entirely ineffective, would it choose to give up, or adopt a more radical strategy?
Was its ultimate goal a specific object inside the manufactorum, or an attempt at full-scale invasion? The answers to these questions would determine the final classification and handling of this "sample."
He allocated a sliver of computational power to slightly adjust the firewall's feedback mechanism.
When the "guest's" probing touched certain specific logical nodes, the firewall would return extremely faint, disguised "system response" signals, simulating a state close to success but always missing by a hair's breadth.
This was a subtle lure, aimed at observing the behavioral changes of the opponent amidst alternating hope and frustration, testing the stability of its decision-making logic.
Meanwhile, in the invisible digital realm, having crossed the barrier of the Blackwall, the core consciousness of Spider Murphy was under immense pressure and anxiety.
She had indeed received the broadcast message about Bartmoss through the Blackwall.
At first, it was disbelief, followed by immense shock and skepticism.
Rache... his body was not only found but restored to a "bio-active" state? How was this possible? Half a century had passed since the disaster of 2023. What technology could achieve this?
However, the real-time biological metrics and clear video footage attached to the data packet left her no choice but to believe.
That body lying in the bio-tank, though marked by time, bore the face and form that was undoubtedly the Rache Bartmoss in her memory.
Seeing his revitalized body suspended helplessly in nutrient fluid caused a turbulent mix of grief, nostalgia, and intense protectiveness to churn within her data-formed core.
She had to confirm if this was a trap, but more importantly, she had to get close to that place.
Whether to reclaim Rache's remains or to find out who did this and for what purpose.
The process of crossing the Blackwall wasn't too difficult for her.
Over the decades, she had long become familiar with every weak point and surveillance blind spot of this "Wailing Wall."
She carefully partitioned a part of her consciousness data, like sending out a probe, silently infiltrating the network world inside the wall.
Tracing the signal source, she quickly locked onto the origin in the abandoned town on the outskirts of Night City.
However, when she attempted to approach and infiltrate, she encountered an unprecedented obstruction.
The firewall before her... was starkly different from any defense system she knew.
It wasn't massive, chaotic, and aggressive like the Blackwall. Instead, it was like a flawless crystal without a single seam.
Its encryption method was unheard of, its logical structure tightly knit to the point of despair.
Every probe felt like touching the surface of a diamond with the finest needle—she could only sense its immovable hardness but find no microscopic cracks to exploit.
"Impossible..." A flicker of disorder passed through Spider Murphy's data stream. "How can the technology of this era construct something like this?"
She tried dozens of methods, from basic protocol spoofing to utilizing backdoors from the Old Net era, even simulating the authority signatures of several long-deceased Old Net administrators. Without exception, all were silently blocked.
Frustration and anxiety grew in tandem.
She could sense Rache's life signal right behind that wall, stable and clear, as if within reach, yet completely cut off by this damn barrier.
Sending that message was clearly a deliberate lure to bring her here, yet now she was shut out.
This felt more like a mockery, a scrutiny from high above.
(End of Chapter)