The instant the data stream solidified successfully and the storage chip's indicator light steadied, Carl's sharp nerves caught a trace of something unusual.
The entire copying process had gone almost perfectly—blocking scans, bypassing the firewall, downloading the data. Everything had been completed in absolute silence, without triggering any known alarm protocols.
Yet it was precisely because it had gone too smoothly that Carl felt something was off.
To be fair, if Carl had been the one protecting this data, given his own style, he would never have placed complete trust in a single security program. He would have planted deeper, more concealed trigger mechanisms.
The instant that thought crossed his mind, the warning became reality.
A low-level pulse entirely different from conventional alarm protocols activated at the deepest layer of the data stream the moment Carl completed the program copy.
The activation condition for this pulse was not something obvious and easily detected, such as "unauthorized access" or "permission breach." Instead, it pinpointed the exact moment when those blocking it would let down their guard.
It would activate only when it detected that the data had been completely copied.
They noticed.
Carl's heart tightened. In that instant, he suddenly recalled the time he had copied information on New America's secret unit, the White Noise Eagles—he had similarly triggered Song Zhaomei's preset copy-detection protocol, which had led to her contacting him afterward.
It seemed that whenever intelligence was involved, whether it was Rogue AIs beyond the wall or top hackers skirting the edge of the Blackwall, they all liked this approach.
A method that could not stop intelligence from leaking, but could at least mitigate the damage and prevent further losses.
It really had that AI flavor: once they realized a loss was unavoidable, they would minimize it as much as