The atmosphere in the conference room at Shang Ding Building was strange and oppressive, though the venue itself had nothing to do with quiet.
The entire room was covered in the light and shadows projected by the Game Interface, accompanied by nearly lifelike sound effects ringing around every attendee's ears.
Some people in the conference room were "playing," some were watching, some were following online public opinion, some were conducting data analysis, and others had joined through remote communications. Each performed their own duties. There was occasional discussion, but it generally remained at the technical level. No one offered any conclusive assessment.
That was because the person meant to define the nature of the incident had been silent for far too long.
Ronan stood beside the long conference table with his arms folded, leaning against the windowsill. His gaze drifted. At times it moved through the Game Interface; at others, it swept over the half-familiar, half-unfamiliar faces in the conference room. Most of the time, however, it passed through the glass window and looked outside.
Everyone knew that the Ability User Association's Xia City Branch offices in Shang Ding Building were on relatively low floors, with poor lighting and no view to speak of.
Yet Ronan seemed intent on finding a flower in the shadowed area completely blocked by the massive surrounding buildings.
As the meeting's convener and host, his extended silence had practically stripped the meeting itself of its purpose.
Fortunately, the people in the conference room were either acquaintances or professionals recruited by the foundation under his name. With Bamboo Pole, the temporary secretary who understood both technology and people, lending a hand, they naturally shifted into more practical technical analysis.
No matter what, gathering a little more intelligence was better than nothing—though nobody knew whether any of