Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 25

The MePhone launch event filled the massive conference center with an electric buzz. Giant screens flashed the sleek Buzzer Tech logo while blue lighting bathed the audience in an otherworldly glow. Journalists from every tech blog and magazine on the planet packed the front rows, their faces lit by laptop screens as they frantically typed notes.

Michael watched from a hidden backstage area, his heart pounding against his ribs. He'd waited for this moment through two lifetimes.

"Holy shit," Michael whispered as he peeked through the curtain. "There's at least five hundred people out there."

Megan nodded beside him, her face pale with nervous energy. "And another million watching the livestream. We've crashed three servers already."

"Are you nervous?" Michael asked, noticing her fidgeting hands.

"Terrified," she admitted. "But also weirdly excited. Like I might throw up or start dancing. Maybe both at the same time."

Michael laughed. "Just not on stage, please."

The crowd hummed with anticipation. Even industry veterans who'd seen hundreds of product launches leaned forward in their seats, hungry for something truly new in a market saturated with incremental upgrades.

Michael spotted Eric near the middle rows, his expression bored and slightly contemptuous. Crawford Enterprises' golden boy, completely unaware he was about to witness the birth of the company that would destroy him.

"Look who decided to grace us with his presence," Michael muttered, pointing discreetly toward Eric.

Rebecca followed his gaze. "Your brother doesn't look impressed."

"He will be," Michael said. "Give it ten minutes."

"You ready?" Michael asked Olivia as she adjusted her blazer one last time.

"Born ready," she replied, but Michael caught the slight tremor in her hands. She'd never addressed a crowd this size before.

"They're going to love you," Michael told her. "Just be yourself."

"Myself is a nervous wreck right now," she whispered back. "But thanks for the pep talk."

The lights dimmed. The crowd fell silent. The massive screen filled with the Buzzer Tech animation—a simple stylized bee that transformed into a pulsing neural network.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice boomed. "Please welcome Olivia Wagner, Chief Innovation Officer of Buzzer Technology!"

Olivia strode onto the stage with confident steps that betrayed none of her anxiety. The spotlight caught her perfectly as she reached center stage.

"Technology should understand you," she began, her voice strong and clear. "Not the other way around."

The audience leaned forward collectively. No flashy gimmicks, no over-produced videos—just a woman with an idea that cut through the noise.

"For decades, we've adapted to our devices. Changed our behaviors. Learned their languages. Today, that changes."

With a simple gesture, she revealed the MePhone on the pedestal beside her. Sleek, borderless, with a subtle shimmer that seemed to pulse with life.

"This isn't just a phone," she said as the cameras zoomed in on the device. "It's the first technology that truly understands you."

The main screen behind her lit up with a live demo as she picked up the device. It activated instantly at her touch, the interface materializing and adjusting to her grip patterns in real time.

"No passwords. No fingerprints. No facial recognition," Olivia explained. "MePhone recognizes you through your unique neural signature transmitted through your fingertips."

Gasps rippled through the audience. A tech journalist in the front row stood up abruptly, his face pale with shock.

"That's impossible," he called out. "The neural transmission technology you're describing is theoretical at best."

Olivia smiled. "Would you like to try it?"

She invited him onstage, handed him the phone, and the audience watched in amazement as the interface reconfigured instantly to his touch.

"Holy crap," the journalist said, his professional skepticism crumbling. "It feels like it's reading my mind."

"Not your mind," Olivia corrected. "Your intentions. The subtle electrical signals from your nervous system. And that's just the beginning."

For the next twenty minutes, she demonstrated features that left the audience in stunned silence: week-long battery life, unhackable quantum-secured data protection, and an adaptive learning system that anticipated user needs based on behavioral patterns.

Michael watched Eric's face as understanding dawned. The boredom vanished, replaced by intense focus, then growing alarm. He was already calculating how this would impact Crawford Enterprises' position in the market.

"He's figured it out," Rebecca whispered beside Michael. "Look at his face."

"Good," Michael replied. "Let him squirm."

The presentation reached its crescendo as Olivia revealed the final killer feature—the health monitoring system that could detect subtle neural disruptions before they manifested as symptoms.

"MePhone doesn't just connect you to the world," she said. "It can potentially save your life."

The applause was deafening. Pre-orders flooded in so fast that the counter on the big screen struggled to keep up with the numbers.

"We did it," Megan whispered, tears in her eyes. "We actually did it."

"Not yet," I cautioned, noting a commotion in the middle rows. "We've still got the Q&A."

As Olivia opened the floor for questions, I noticed Maxwell Hughes of Neuro-Gen pushing his way toward a microphone stand. Beside him walked Alexander Wells, the CEO of TechFuture, a company known for aggressive patent litigation.

"Ms. Wagner," Wells said, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed room. "Can you explain how Buzzer Technology suddenly developed neural interface capabilities that my company has been researching for seven years?"

Olivia maintained her composure. "Innovation often happens simultaneously in different labs, Mr. Wells."

"This isn't parallel innovation," Hughes interrupted, his face flushed with anger. "These are our specifications, down to the calibration parameters. Our research was stolen three months ago in a cybersecurity breach."

He held up a tablet displaying technical documents. "I have here the original specifications from our lab, dated eighteen months ago. The similarities are beyond coincidental."

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Journalists began frantically typing, sensing the launch was about to implode into a corporate espionage scandal.

"That's a serious accusation," Olivia replied, her voice steady despite the chaos brewing. "Our technology was developed independently through years of research."

"Then you won't mind an independent review of your development timeline?" Wells pressed. "Or perhaps explaining how your unknown company suddenly appeared with technology that giants like ours have struggled to perfect?"

The mood in the room shifted. Excitement gave way to suspicion. I could see Olivia searching the wings for guidance, unsure how to handle the accusation.

I made my decision in an instant.

"Megan, get my mask," I said. "It's time for the Black Investor to make an appearance."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure? Once you connect those identities publicly—"

"It's already connected in the minds of those who matter," I cut her off. "Might as well control the narrative."

Seconds later, Michael stepped onto the stage wearing the black mask that had made headlines weeks earlier. A collective gasp swept through the audience, followed by a storm of camera flashes.

"Mr. Wells," he said, his voice carrying across the now-silent room. "Your accusation is as desperate as it is false."

Wells blinked in surprise at the masked figure now standing center stage. "Who are—"

"Someone who recognizes technological theft when I see it," Michael interrupted. "Though usually it's TechFuture stealing innovations from smaller companies, not the other way around."

He gestured to the screens, which now displayed TechFuture's patent litigation history dozens of cases against startups that had mysteriously gone out of business shortly after developing promising technologies.

"Perhaps we should discuss your company's pattern of absorbing innovations through legal intimidation?" Michael suggested. "Or maybe we should review the actual neural interface patent applications Buzzer Technology filed nine months ago?"

The date was deliberate—months before the supposed theft from TechFuture, but recent enough that Eric couldn't possibly claim Crawford Enterprises had developed it first.

The audience watched in stunned silence as this unexpected drama unfolded. Eric had half-risen from his seat, his face a mask of confused anger as he struggled to connect the dots between the mysterious Black Investor, Buzzer Technology, and the revolutionary device that threatened Crawford Enterprises' market position.

Hughes grabbed the microphone again. "This theatrical distraction doesn't change the facts. We'll pursue this through legal channels."

"Please do," Michael replied calmly. "We welcome the scrutiny. Our development records are meticulously documented, our research independently verified. Can TechFuture say the same?"

As security escorted the fuming executives back to their seats, the entire tech world witnessed something unprecedented—a product launch that had transformed into a corporate showdown, with the mysterious Black Investor defending a technological revolution against established industry giants.

The livestream comments exploded with speculation: "Is the Black Investor behind Buzzer Tech?" "Did he just save the launch or doom it?" "Is this the best tech drama ever or a calculated publicity stunt?"

Either way, MePhone had captured the world's attention in a way no marketing budget could have achieved. As Michael stepped back from the microphone, letting Olivia reclaim her presentation, he caught Eric's eyes across the crowded room.

For the first time in either of his lives, Michael saw something new in his brother's gaze.

Fear.