My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 470 Those In The Shadows

The chamber was purposefully veiled in secrecy, devoid of windows or outside surveillance, nestled three levels under an ordinary office tower in an unimportant city, reached by hallways missing from all building schematics.

Illumination remained intentionally low—not so shadowy as to blind sight, yet muted sufficiently to obscure facial cues, fostering an environment where words were chosen with extra care.

Seven individuals gathered around a round table. No clear ranking showed in their positions, yet those versed in group hierarchies would spot the faint signals, such as who initiated talk, whom others yielded to, whose quietness held influence.

They referred to themselves as the Meridian Continuum, a label used solely in their confidential exchanges and never uttered beyond secure spaces like this. Not a typical plot against the system. Rather, a way to align among those united by common annoyance at the world's management and firm belief they could handle it superiorly.

Certain members hailed from spy agencies. Others originated in military suppliers, cutting-edge tech fields, or money scheming. Their bond wasn't political views, since those varied widely.

Their common ground lay in the conviction that the existing authority setup was outdated, that the entrenched leaders gripping control had grown overly hesitant, too wary of risks, too fixated on steadiness when bold change was essential.

And the firm assurance that they, in particular, ought to drive that shift.

The fellow who summoned this urgent gathering scanned the table, his face inscrutable under the faint glow. "I'm certain each of us has viewed Nova Technologies' recent reveals and pored over them repeatedly. What's your take?"

He halted, allowing the query to linger. The ensuing quiet brimmed with unspoken ramifications that none dared voice initially.

At last, the lady at his left responded. She'd logged fifteen years in eavesdropping ops before shifting to corporate gigs blurring legal advice and murkier pursuits. "Is it genuine? I mean, does such tech truly exist? Targeted health setups? Nanobots for healing every ailment?"

She inched ahead a bit, her tone blending real doubt with concealed scheming of her own. "I get that Nova Technologies is groundbreaking. We've witnessed their feats with Lucid and Lucid Air. We've observed their orbital showcases. But this takes it to another level. The Studio reveal, I can grasp—it's sophisticated content creation, striking yet graspable in theory. But nanobots that rebuild organs and mend brain injuries? I struggle to accept it."

"Why?" The retort arose from the opposite side, posed with a straightforwardness implying the asker already grasped the reply and was probing if the rest did.

The lady pivoted to the sound, her gaze sharpening in the low light. "Why? Because it's not merely unfeasible—it's absurd! Do you grasp the implications of such advancements? The expertise needed? We're discussing tiny programmable devices functioning at the cell level, equipped with AI smart enough for independent health choices, fueled by power methods beyond our ken. That's no small progress. It's a jump defying today's science."

"I understand its significance." The next voice belonged to a man with history at DARPA and various arms firms, always on ultra-secret ventures beyond public classification. "It signifies we at last possess precisely what's required to fulfill our aims."

"Provided the tech is authentic," the woman emphasized, her irritation clear. "We can't base plans on inflated or invented features."

The ex-DARPA expert regarded her with near-compassion. "Have you truly examined their initial gadget? The Lucid? Folks label it a premium game console, but that label entirely overlooks its true essence."

He retrieved a tablet, its display throwing soft azure hues over his features. "Do you grasp the sheer computing might packed into that 'everyday gadget'? Do you fathom the prowess of its onboard AI processors?"

His tone built fervor as he pressed on. "I've possessed the unit for three weeks—no details on sourcing, but I've conducted probes that would alarm top security experts. Leveraging the Lucid's crunching power and the AI's efficiency routines, I could breach the Pentagon's tightest defenses in mere seconds. Not minutes. Seconds. I could fulfill missions that standard hacking squads need days or weeks for, and slip away sans the tiniest clues that modern detection tools seek."

He placed the tablet aside, his look fervent. "That's no hypothesis. I've charted the infiltration paths. The Lucid's computing framework surpasses by decades anything in state or armed forces use. Thus, when Nova Technologies unveils medical nanites, asserting feats that seem unattainable, I trust them. For they've already proven tech dominance that defies logic, all in a everyday product folks use for entertainment."

A fourth contributor joined, this from a person whose riches stemmed from drug investments across globe-spanning firms. "The gadget's strength is recognized. Yet potential means nothing without utilization. Nova Technologies has guarded secrets from the start—every aspect of their workings is hidden. Their material flows are murky. Their research sites are undetectable. Their staff are ghosts."

He waved in clear annoyance. "Worse yet, they've ensured no ties to state bodies can obtain their key items. Each purchase draw bars those with spy or armed links. They're purposefully barring the tech from formal grasp. So no matter the Lucid's edge, we can't obtain it via usual routes, and lacking entry, we can't command it."

"Is that truly your view?" The ex-DARPA man's words now held a sharpness. "That we're totally barred?"

"It's not opinion—it's what facts show," the drug magnate countered. "Nova Technologies' defenses render them impervious to standard infiltration. They're sealed tight."

"They were sealed tight," the ex-DARPA man amended. "Past. But the Medical Nanites reveal alters the board. Trials demand real sites. Participant picks involve forms. Oversight from regulators creates official links. They're opening fresh entry points that weren't there prior."

He summoned another file on his tablet. "And crucially, we now trust the CEO's true name."

The spy vet leaned in. "You refer to the youth? Liam Scott?"

"Precisely. That one." The ex-DARPA man's face lit with anticipation for this reveal. "The CIA holds a dossier linking him firmly to Nova Technologies, with strong assurance. They've assembled the links via money trails, travel logs, contact webs, and numerous other signs. Only missing is courtroom-proof evidence, but spy craft seldom hits that bar."

"So what's your proposal?" The spy woman's voice showed caution. "You realize why those outfits haven't acted on him though certain, correct? There's cause for those wielding top surveillance to tread lightly."

"Naturally I know!" The ex-DARPA man's calm slipped, exposing pent-up anger from recent times. "They're spineless. The CIA wields tools nations would slay for—wire taps, orbital watches, agent webs, prediction software for personal habits. Yet they freeze in fear instead of deploying them."

His pitch heightened. "Frightened some heavyweight supports him? Pure folly. A teen with vague roots bursts forth with earth-shaking tech, and they just spy afar hoping he stays oblivious? That's no plan. It's bureaucratic fear."

The drug magnate interjected with icy realism. "You deem their wariness foolish? Then account for how an eighteen-year-old snagged a custom A380 brimming with superior specs. Account for the fortune amassed sans clear origin. Account for the tech rollout eclipsing all known efforts public or secret."

He stopped, letting the queries dangle. "Think straight for once. Answers exist for those, and none reassure."

"Blast it!" The ex-DARPA man pounded the surface, the smack echoing in the tight quarters. "Why fear a mere boy?"

"We don't fear him alone," the spy woman replied, her calm infuriating. "We're wisely wary of an enigma showing powers we can't fathom. And if he links to Nova Technologies—as evidence mounts—caution doubles."

"What they aired in those broadcasts? The vessel prowess, the seeming orbital setups, the tech defying physics laws? I can assert that a group with such might could wreak havoc on society if inclined. Not total ruin perhaps, but enough turmoil for breakdown."

The ex-DARPA man chuckled bitterly. "Erase mankind? Absolutely. Sound judgment."

Yet another participant chimed in—one silent till now. This one's empire rose from drug production, and the Medical Nanites news had slashed his firm's worth by roughly $8 billion in a flash. "I ignore Liam Scott's shadowy allies or Nova Technologies' supposed doomsday power. One concern grips me: the Medical Nanites offer the ultimate moneymaker and the direst peril to my ventures in ages."

His words dripped calculated chill. "I won't let them shatter my drug realm as I idle. That tech must be ours. We seize it outright, or the users deploying it, or at minimum skim gains from its spread. But watching them remake health markets? Unthinkable for me."

"Spot on!" The ex-DARPA man latched onto it. "The Medical Nanites hold the prize we must claim. It's our route to what we've plotted—seizing control from the stale elders who've steered the globe too timidly for years. Nova Technologies holds our needed gear. We merely force our way in."

The session's leader voiced again, his timbre wielding the command of one accustomed to closing calls. "Our goal stays sharp, though tactics shift. Nova Technologies as a whole eludes us now—their guards too clever, their bases too veiled. But a weaker mark exists: Liam Scott directly."

He meshed his fingers, the motion somehow threatening in the gloom. "No need to breach the firm head-on. Just heap strain on Scott till he yields entry willingly or errs into openings we exploit. And should he prove unlinked to Nova Technologies, his riches alone mark him prime. No youth merits billions. That capital aids the wider cause more in our grasp."

"And precisely how to strain him?" The spy woman's doubt shone through. "Straight contact risks exposure."

"We skip direct contact." The leader's grin chilled. "Scott keeps a tight-knit crew. Folks he trusts for public outings. That crew spells weakness. Yet we won't probe it ourselves."

He accessed a profile, broadcasting it via encrypted lines to the group's screens. "A outfit works in Washington DC. Known as the Maybourne Group. As driven as we. They've queried about Scott lately, seeking grip points, weighing if his funds might... shift to their ends."

"You aim to deploy them as guinea pigs?" The drug magnate's stare tightened. "Watch what befalls those who target Scott, measure the backlash, absorb lessons from their flops before risking ours?"

"Exactly. We supply intel and aid—ample for a solid push, ample to witness the fallout. They bear the danger, we study outcomes. Success in gaining hold lets us bargain for their gains. Failure reveals Scott's shields, letting us refine."

The leader's look beamed with self-approval at his ploy. "Plus, a bonus: The CIA, FBI, and peers have lingered too passively on Nova Technologies. A splashy clash with a watched figure could jolt them into motion, stir agency demands to engage, brew the disorder birthing chances."

He surveyed the group, his smile broadening a touch. "It's grown too still of late. Too even. Spy bureaus have coasted in calm for ages. Time to rattle them. Time to spark scenarios craving action over watching."

His tone lowered, laden with gravity drawing the others nearer. "The Meridian Continuum must begin probing the unknowns. We'll forge the shifts the world craves, old powers be damned."

Nods rippled around the table. Some eager, some reluctant, yet all acknowledging the choice was set.

They'd strike at Liam Scott via proxies. They'd assay his barriers, scan his strengths, judge if he was a breachable flaw or a hurdle to skirt.

And come what may, they'd harness the turmoil from such probes to propel their grand scheme—usurping rule from those deemed too meek to wield it right.

Yet they erred on much—Liam's real might, Nova Technologies' core, their grip on unknowns.

Still, they saw themselves as shrewd, prudent, aptly bold.

And that conviction would spur actions birthing unforeseen repercussions beyond their readiness.