Conan: Begins to collaborate with Miss Bayonetta and become famous

Chapter 848: Secret Meeting of Senior Executives

The cold blue light still dominated the room, and the air was so heavy that you could almost squeeze water out of it.

"These countries include," Bourbon's voice broke the brief silence, and he continued to recite the suffocating list, "Russia, India, Israel, Australia... and the entire European continent."

"So what exactly did it do to these systems?" The man with the blond slicked-back hair couldn't help but ask, with deep confusion locked between his brows.

"Nothing." Bourbon stared meaningfully at the blue "eye" on the holographic screen in front of him and slowly uttered these four words.

"Nothing..." the blond man repeated in a low voice, savoring the creepy meaning behind the words.

"That's right." Jägermeister spread his arms, his movements revealing a kind of impotent mockery of the "intelligence body." "It comes and goes freely, leaving clear traces of access to all the most core and sensitive systems, as if it were in an empty space."

In an instant, he gently raised the frame of his glasses on his nose, his eyes becoming sharp as a knife: "Everything it does seems to be just to convey a very clear message to us."

"Hmm." The blond man frowned and muttered, as if he had glimpsed some terrible truth. "It said... 'I will come back.'"

"No matter what its ultimate goal is," James said in a hoarse and heavy voice, stating a cruel fact, "with our current capabilities... we are powerless to stop it."

This sentence was like a piece of ice thrown into stagnant water, instantly dropping the already silent atmosphere to freezing point.

People are always like this, unwilling to hear the most naked truth.

After a period of oppressive silence, the head of the Tokyo Self-Defense Force finally spoke first, acting as an icebreaker: "Currently, according to our tracking, all of its computing power and activity signs are highly concentrated on one ultimate target."

"The entire global intelligence network." A deep voice in the conference room continued, "This is the closest conclusion to the truth we can confirm at the moment."

The blond man turned his gaze to the outside of the one-way glass.

There, hundreds of technical specialists are like precisely moving parts, staring intently at the paper documents in front of them, their fingers moving rapidly on the pages and traditional keyboards, like a group of pianists playing silent music.

"Right now, the entire Tokyo intelligence department is working flat out," he explained, "using the most primitive paper media to manually back up and verify all confirmed key database information."

"This is to preserve the last spark before our final secure database is breached or completely contaminated."

As he spoke, the white-haired man who had just passed through layers of security checks was silently passing through this "human-shaped computer cluster".

It’s not that the busy specialists didn’t notice someone passing by, but they simply couldn’t spare even a millisecond to look up.

The scene before one's eyes suddenly makes one feel as if one is in the code-breaking center of World War II.

Everyone is working tirelessly to crack the crucial intelligence. Although not everyone is doing this voluntarily, their eyes are burning with an almost paranoid enthusiasm, and they are not even willing to waste a second to close their bloodshot eyes.

All this is just because they firmly believe in one result - as long as they succeed, the crisis can be resolved.

They've had enough of living in fear under the shadow of numbers.

Today, this group of people look highly focused and even a little numb, which is exactly the same as the historical scene.

The only difference is that the tattered shirts have been replaced by well-tailored suits, and the dim oil lamps have been replaced by cold LED light sources.

"But that's only a matter of time." Bourbon's voice brought everyone back to reality. "The 'Intelligence' knows exactly how to precisely weaken our strengths and exploit our every weakness."

"Why else would it choose to partner with Rum and his gang?" Jagermeister refilled his glass, the bright red liquid sloshing around in it. "Apart from 'that lord,' the actual disparity in power and resources among those who have reached the top of the organization isn't as vast as the rankings suggest."

"The so-called ranking is nothing more than a serious game played by children." Jäger held up the wine glass. Although he was excited when he spoke and his body movements were a bit exaggerated, the glass in his hand was surprisingly steady, and the liquid surface was as smooth as a mirror without a ripple.

"But the 'Intelligence' chose Rum and his faction." Jäger narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze to Bourbon, his tone becoming playful. "Champagne... Such a mysterious guy, and he's been out of touch with the organization for so long."

"Never mind how many people in the organization have seen his true face. Besides me, who else here has seen him? All we know about him is probably that damn communication line, always accompanied by electrical noise."

"If it weren't for Rum's 'notice'..." Jager raised the corner of his mouth with a smile mixed with sarcasm and despair, "perhaps we would still think that Champagne is alive and well, still planning things in some corner?"

"Damn it," Jäger tilted his head and took a sip. "Even with such incredible wealth, he can't afford to buy a better microphone? Didn't this guy pour all his money into that damn 'intelligent body' research?"

It is common knowledge among senior management that Champagne is secretly researching artificial intelligence, and they allow it to remain unchecked because it is within the organization's control.

"I originally wanted to rely on it to rule the world, but I didn't expect that I would be the first one to be hit and lose my life." Jäger sneered and drank the wine in the glass in one gulp. His tone was full of desolation and insight. "People... sometimes you have to believe in fate."

"The evil you have committed with your own hands will sooner or later be personally punished." He spoke with ulterior motives, as if he knew some unknown inside story.

Bourbon frowned slightly, thinking that it wasn't a microphone problem at all - no matter how good the equipment was, the annoying electrical noise would still exist.

Because what Champagne uses is basically a voice changer!

"Come to think of it," Jägermeister swirled the remaining liquor at the bottom of his glass, his eyes wandering as if he were mumbling to himself, "Why didn't 'Intelligent Body' seek cooperation with me? Although criticizing and insulting AI is now politically correct..."

"But... to be honest," he raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing the ceiling, gazing at the empty clouds, "I kind of wish I were on the 'intelligent body' side."

"After all," he said, his voice filled with undisguised, almost greedy desire, "who wouldn't have the ambition... to rule the world?"

This is how people are. Even if they have reached the pinnacle of worldly power, endless greed will still give rise to greater ambitions.

What we really desire is often the feeling of being in charge of the world and looking down on all living beings!

Instead of just being a so-called mayor or a "senior steward" in charge of the organization's finances!

The faint flame that had just ignited in his heart was immediately ruthlessly extinguished by his own sober and heart-piercing whispers. Although there were only a few words, every word was true and hit the mark.

"Never mind..." He murmured to himself, "Maybe it thinks I'm a drunkard and useless."