Chapter 524: The Crisis Facing Tesla
The CIA's Black Market
Death is the greatest fear, and in the face of that power, few can hold onto their original resolve.
Under Bruce's threat, Edward, a peripheral member of the CIA, had no choice but to reveal the full story.
It turned out that the factory producing the imitation powered armor was not owned solely by the League of Assassins, but was jointly run by multiple organizations, with the CIA being one of them. The military also appeared to hold a stake.
The powered armor manufactured at that factory was smuggled into the Middle East and the Americas, with small batches going to Europe and another portion returning to the United States.
This was why gangs and terrorists were able to acquire the armor.
The profit from the imitation powered armor was extremely high, far surpassing that of narcotics. Armor with a production cost of only twenty thousand dollars was sold for a profit of several dozen times that amount.
Besides making money, the CIA and the Department of Defense also wanted to use the powered armor to destabilize the Middle East—simply put, the more chaos, the better. Only through confusion could they maintain control.
After hearing this, Bruce remained silent for a long time, unable to articulate his feelings.
Talia warned him: don't investigate any further. She was right. He truly couldn't investigate anymore. This was a strategic deployment jointly formulated by the CIA and the military, with the White House also implicated. If he pursued this, it would be tantamount to declaring war on the entire country.
Bruce took a deep breath and continued, "Who provided the core technology for the powered armor?"
Edward frantically shook his head. "I'm just a middleman; how would I know that?"
"What about the Kryptonite?"
Bruce picked up one of the green glowing stones. "What is it used for?"
"This..."
Edward hesitated slightly, but eventually confessed,
"I heard that Kryptonite can affect Superman."
Bruce's pupils constricted. He pressed him immediately,
"What effect? What exactly? Does it weaken him, or strengthen him?"
"I don't know. It's all rumors; no one has actually seen it used."
"Where can this stone be found?"
"There's some in the Middle East, and it seems there's some in the Indian Ocean as well."
Finished, Edward pleaded, "I've told you everything I know. Please let me go. I promise you I'll never do anything bad again."
Bruce glanced at him indifferently, picked up the metal case, and disappeared into the night.
Tesla on the Brink
Trouble always arrives silently, catching one completely off guard.
As incidents involving powered armor injuries increased worldwide, Tesla became the target of media bombardment. Even providing evidence that the armor was counterfeit failed to quell public resentment.
Public opinion was overwhelmingly against them and was rapidly spiraling out of control.
Every day, large groups of demonstrators gathered in plazas, demanding the government stop the proliferation of powered armor and protect citizen safety. Some congressmen also stepped forward to capitalize on the public outcry.
The demonstrations spread like a plague across various states.
Powered armor was extremely expensive; even the lowest-end civilian models cost tens of thousands of dollars. These products couldn't enter the lives of ordinary people; only the government, military, police, the wealthy, or the middle class with substantial discretionary income could afford them.
Everything was fine until the influx of counterfeit armor destroyed this ecosystem. Armor with powerful defensive capabilities and offensive firepower was circulating widely on the black market, becoming the weapon of choice for terrorists and gang members.
In the past, gang wars typically involved basic firearms—the equivalent of a "Chicago Typewriter" exchange. Now, things were different. Gangsters in powered armor roamed the streets unimpeded. Seemingly sturdy walls crumbled like cheap concrete in their hands.
They fought and destroyed wildly. The police were virtually powerless to intervene, and citizens could only run and hide. A single gunfight would leave buildings reduced to rubble, and countless civilians would be affected.
The original intention of powered armor was to assist the police in maintaining social order. Now, it had become the source of disaster.
Who could have foreseen this outcome?
At Tesla headquarters, Linda glared at the executives with a dark expression, a red light flickering in her eyes, like a hungry tiger.
Under her gaze, the conference room was silent as a tomb.
Everyone was avoiding eye contact, saying nothing. Tesla was facing the greatest challenge since its founding, and if not handled properly, it faced the risk of bankruptcy.
"Why is everyone silent? Did you all turn mute?"
"This is a conference room, not a sleeping area. I called you here to solve problems, not to play dumb."
Linda spoke while pounding the table. The thud, thud, thud sound echoed, grating on their nerves. Siobhan saw the tension and frantically signaled to her. The girl finally calmed down slightly, turning her attention to Billy on the right. Billy could only force a bitter smile.
"The most important thing right now is to find a way to quell public opinion. We can't let them continue to protest."
The person next to him added, "And the counterfeit powered armor. We absolutely must figure out where it's coming from and who the mastermind is. If we don't handle this, there will be many more problems in the future."
The counterfeit armor caused the problems, yet Tesla was taking all the blame. The thought alone was frustrating.
Another person chimed in, "We also need to prepare for the White House. I'm concerned that high-ranking officials might use this opportunity to implement policies detrimental to us."
"A number of congressmen are already calling for powered armor to be listed as a controlled substance. If that passes, it will significantly impact the company's business."
The group spoke all at once, listing a pile of issues in just a few minutes.
Linda's head was pounding. To an outsider, it might sound like Tesla was already bankrupt.
She wasn't worried about the White House; President Joel Nash was Luke's subordinate and would not—dared not—enact policies unfavorable to Tesla. The most troublesome issues were public opinion and the mysterious counterfeit suppliers hidden behind the scenes.
The meeting ended after four hours. The executives left, preoccupied, with little cheer on their faces.
Siobhan said helplessly,
"You should have said a few words to boost morale."
Linda slumped lazily in her chair. "I want to encourage them, but who is going to encourage me?"
She sighed deeply.
The non-stop trouble was mentally and emotionally exhausting her. This fatigue wasn't physical; it stemmed from her spirit.
"Any word from Luke Shaw?"
Linda shook her head. "We haven't been in contact for a long time. Heaven knows what he's up to."
Siobhan complained,
"He has such little concern. He leaves a perfectly good company. He disappeared for a year last year, and it's another year this year. I've nearly forgotten what he looks like."
"Don't mention him. He's irritating."
Linda sighed. "Let's focus on how to deal with the problems right in front of us!"
At the mention of that, Siobhan lost his smile. There were things he couldn't say outright, but if the truth were known, the current predicament was largely Linda's fault. As CEO, her reaction was too slow; she failed to recognize the danger posed by the counterfeit powered armor.
Trying to make up for it now was like closing the barn door after the horse had bolted.
Linda realized this, which was why she was so dejected. Honestly, she didn't have a good solution. She couldn't exactly fly to Eastern Europe and smash the factories producing the counterfeit armor into smithereens.
"If only Luke were here. He's so clever. He would definitely come up with a good idea."
The girl rested her face in her hands, her vacant eyes filled with confusion.
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