Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 14

The private office of Chen at Crawford Memorial Hospital was meticulously organized, reflecting the precision she brought to her work as one of the nation's leading cardiac surgeons. Michael sat in a chair across from her desk, careful to maintain a relaxed posture despite the gravity of his mission.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Dr. Chen," Michael said as she entered the room. "I appreciate your discretion."

Dr. ChenRebecca's cousin, though Michael had been careful not to reveal he knew this connection nodded professionally as she took her seat. "Your assistant mentioned this concerns your father's upcoming procedure. As his surgeon, I'm bound by confidentiality, but I can discuss general aspects of the treatment."

"I understand," Michael replied, sliding a sealed envelope across the desk. "Before we begin, I'd like you to look at this."

Dr. Chen raised an eyebrow but opened the envelope, her expression shifting from curiosity to confusion as she examined the contents—detailed surgical notes for Richard Crawford's cardiac procedure, including specific modifications to the standard protocol.

"Where did you get this?" she asked sharply, looking up from the papers.

"That's precisely why I'm here," Michael said, leaning forward. "We've uncovered evidence of corporate espionage targeting Crawford Enterprises' executive medical insurance program."

Dr. Chen's professional demeanor remained intact, but her eyes betrayed her concern. "Espionage?"

"Someone is attempting to access and potentially alter treatment protocols for key executives," Michael explained, the carefully crafted lie rolling smoothly off his tongue. "My father's arrhythmia treatment is their first target."

"These modifications," Dr. Chen said, tapping the papers, "they're actually improvements to our standard protocol. Specifically addressing your father's unique cardiac structure."

Michael nodded, having anticipated this response. "Our security team intercepted these documents being transmitted to unknown parties. We believe they were attempting to identify vulnerabilities in his treatment plan."

"Mr. Crawford, tampering with medical procedures would be a serious crime," Dr. Chen stated firmly.

"Which is why I'm bringing this directly to you," Michael replied. "I'm not suggesting anyone at the hospital is involved. Rather, I wanted to ensure my father receives the correct procedure without interference."

Dr. Chen studied the documents again, her trained eye recognizing the medical value of the modifications. "These adjustments would significantly reduce post-operative complications given your father's specific condition."

"Then I would ask that you implement them," Michael said. "But maintain absolute confidentiality about their source. If word gets back to whoever is behind this espionage, they might attempt more direct interference."

After a moment's consideration, Dr. Chen nodded. "I'll incorporate these modifications into the procedure protocol. They align with emerging best practices I've been researching anyway."

"Thank you, Doctor," Michael said, rising to leave. "One more thing—have you shared the original procedure details with anyone outside your immediate surgical team?"

"Patient confidentiality is absolute," she replied firmly. "Though as standard practice, we did send the procedure overview to your father's health proxy."

"Health proxy?" Michael asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, Eric Crawford. Hospital records list him as your father's designated health proxy."

Michael nodded, masking his internal fury. "Of course. Thank you for your time, Doctor."

As Michael left the hospital, satisfaction mingled with rage coursed through him. In his previous life, his father's supposedly routine procedure had resulted in complications that weakened him significantly—complications that Eric had somehow anticipated and used to consolidate his power. Now Michael understood exactly how his brother had known what would happen.

"Not this time," Michael muttered, checking his watch. He had just enough time to make his next appointment.

The elevator to the Pinnacle, the city's most exclusive rooftop restaurant, required both a reservation and a special access card. As Michael ascended to the 87th floor, he reviewed what he knew about Victor Zhao—internationally respected financial strategist, adviser to tech billionaires and sovereign wealth funds, and now, unexpectedly, interested in Michael's recent cryptocurrency activities.

The maître d' led Michael to a private dining alcove separated from the main restaurant by artfully positioned screens. A man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and impeccable tailoring stood as Michael approached.

"Mr. Crawford," he said, extending his hand. "Victor Zhao. Thank you for agreeing to meet."

Michael shook his hand firmly. "Your invitation was intriguing. 'Mutual interests in emerging technologies' covers a lot of ground."

Zhao smiled enigmatically as they sat. "Let's order first. The sea bass here is exceptional."

They exchanged pleasantries through the first course, discussing market trends and economic forecasts with the easy confidence of financial experts. It wasn't until their plates were cleared that Zhao's demeanor shifted subtly.

"Tell me, Mr. Crawford, how did you know to invest so heavily in quantum cybersecurity infrastructure three days before the SolarGrid breach?"

Michael maintained his composure despite the directness of the question. "Diversified risk management. My portfolio adjusts based on multiple factors."

"And NeuraTech, QuantumShield, GreenHorizon, and VisionStream?" Zhao continued. "All four experiencing unprecedented growth within hours of your investments. Quite remarkable timing."

Michael sipped his water, studying Zhao over the rim of his glass. "If you've traced those investments back to me, you must have considerable resources. Who exactly do you represent, Mr. Zhao?"

Instead of answering directly, Zhao removed a small metal card from his pocket and placed it on the table between them. Embossed on its surface was a stylized phoenix.

"I represent interests that monitor market disruptions and technological paradigm shifts," Zhao said quietly. "Some call us the Phoenix Group."

Michael kept his expression neutral despite his surprise. He'd never heard of such a group in his previous life.

"And what does this Phoenix Group want with me?"

Zhao studied him for a moment. "We recognize patterns, Mr. Crawford. Individuals who demonstrate... unusual foresight. Your recent activities suggest you're either extraordinarily lucky or operating with information others don't possess."

"I'm flattered by your interest," Michael replied carefully, "but I'm simply a businessman making educated guesses."

"Of course," Zhao nodded, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "Just as Buzzer Technology is simply a smartphone company."

The mention of his secret venture sent a jolt through Michael, though he maintained his poker face. "I'm not familiar with that company."

"Please, Mr. Crawford," Zhao said dismissively. "The Phoenix Group specializes in knowing what others don't. Your neural interface technology is particularly interesting."

Michael decided to change tactics. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"For now, just awareness," Zhao replied. "And to offer a warning: you have enemies closer than you realize."

"My brother and wife are plotting to kill me," Michael said bluntly. "I'm well aware of my enemies."

Zhao's eyebrows rose slightly—the first genuine surprise he'd shown. "You're more informed than I anticipated. But there are others watching your movements. Your market activities haven't gone unnoticed by certain regulatory figures."

"I've been careful."

"Careful isn't always enough when one makes nearly four hundred million dollars overnight," Zhao countered. "However, that's not my primary concern."

He slid a small flash drive across the table. "This contains information about certain Cayman Islands accounts. Accounts in your wife's name that receive regular payments from subsidiaries connected to Neuro-Gen Pharmaceuticals."

Michael picked up the drive, his mind racing. "Why give me this?"

"The Phoenix Group prefers balanced markets and predictable disruptions," Zhao said, rising from his seat. "Your potential is... significant. It would be unfortunate if personal entanglements derailed your contributions to technological advancement."

He extended his hand again. "We'll be watching your progress with great interest, Mr. Crawford."

After Zhao departed, Michael remained at the table, turning the small drive over in his fingers. The System interface appeared before him:

[External faction detected: Phoenix Group. Probability of ally: 62%. Probability of threat: 38%. Monitoring recommended.]

The new Buzzer Technology facility occupied three floors of an unmarked building in the city's emerging tech district. Michael entered through the private elevator that required both biometric authentication and neural signature verification via a concealed scanner.

"There he is!" Megan called out as the elevator doors opened to the main development lab. "Just in time for the big reveal!"

Michael smiled, the tension from his earlier meetings melting away in the presence of genuine enthusiasm. "Show me what you've got."

Megan led him to a central workstation where a sleek device rested on a testing platform. Unlike the earlier prototypes, this one featured a seemingly borderless display, the screen flowing seamlessly into the barely-visible frame.

"Behold, the first true Buzzer smartphone," she announced proudly. "Graphene-enhanced display with quantum dot technology, integrated neural-response interface, and Olivia's QuantumLock security system."

Michael picked up the device, feeling it warm to his touch as it recognized his neural signature. The interface came to life, configurations adjusting to his grip patterns and finger positions.

"The neural sensors detect electrical signals through your fingertips," Megan explained, watching him test the interface. "It's learning your patterns with every interaction, creating a truly personalized experience."

"How long until it's fully calibrated to the user?" Michael asked, navigating through applications with intuitive gestures.

"For basic functions, minutes," Megan replied. "For deep personalization, about three days of regular use. After that, it becomes essentially an extension of the user's nervous system."

Olivia approached from her security station. "The QuantumLock implementation is exceeding expectations. We've run over ten thousand simulated hacking attempts without a single breach."

"Even against Crawford Pharmaceuticals' NeuraCrypt malware?" Michael asked.

Olivia smiled confidently. "Especially against that. I've created specific countermeasures based on the encryption Rebecca encountered."

Michael nodded approvingly. "Speaking of Rebecca, where is she?"

"In the medical research lab," Megan replied. "She's integrating her neural mapping protocols with our interface systems. The potential applications are incredible—the device could potentially detect neural disruptions before the user even experiences symptoms."

"Early warning system for strokes, seizures, or neural degradation," Olivia added. "Combined with her regeneration therapy, we could revolutionize neurological treatment."

"Perfect," Michael said, returning the prototype to its testing platform. "How soon can we begin limited production?"

"Two weeks for the first hundred units," Megan confirmed. "Manufacturing partners are ready whenever you give the word."

"The word is given," Michael replied decisively. "Meanwhile, I need to handle something at Crawford."

The Crawford Enterprises security feed displayed on Michael's private monitor showed Vanessa entering Eric's office, a tablet clutched in her hand.

"I can't hear what they're saying," Rebecca commented, watching the feed over Michael's shoulder.

"Don't need to," Michael replied, activating the enhanced audio processing he'd secretly installed in Eric's office weeks earlier. "Listen."

Eric's voice emerged clearly from the speakers: "Are you certain these are the actual security protocols? Not some misdirection?"

"Completely certain," Vanessa replied confidently. "I extracted them directly from the implementation documents. Michael doesn't even know I had access."

"And this vulnerability—it's as significant as it appears?" Eric asked, studying the tablet she had handed him.

"Catastrophic," Vanessa confirmed. "If exploited, it could give external parties control over all integrated building systems. Climate control, security, elevators—everything."

Eric's smile was audible in his voice. "The board will crucify him when this system fails. Especially after those ambitious projections he presented."

"When do you want to act?" Vanessa asked.

"The charity gala," Eric replied. "Perfect timing. Most of the board will be there to witness his humiliation. And Father..."

The feed cut out suddenly, static replacing the audio. Michael frowned, adjusting controls to restore the connection, but the interference continued.

"Technical glitch?" Rebecca asked, disappointment evident in her voice.

"No," Michael replied grimly. "Someone detected my access and terminated the connection."

He shut down the system, mind racing through implications. Eric was planning something for the charity gala.

As Michael gathered his belongings to prepare for the gala, the System interface suddenly flashed bright red before him, an urgent alert he hadn't seen before:

[CRITICAL TASK: Survive assassination attempt at Crawford charity gala within 6 hours. Difficulty: Extreme. Reward: Enhanced Reflexes Level 2.]

Michael froze, staring at the warning. The honeypot security vulnerability he'd planted had been mere bait, a distraction. Eric wasn't planning to embarrass him.

His brother was planning to kill him.