Data analysis was swift.
Thankfully, the computer at Rivendell was decently configured; otherwise, with such fast data, a slightly inferior CPU would have stumbled and crashed.
Despite being a bit slow, the progress bar on the Rivendell machine kept moving forward.
Nathalie calculated the ti; it would take roughly three minutes to produce the results.
Her hands casually crossed over her chest, she waited quietly.
"..." Amadeus Yancey was witnessing Nathalie displaying her hacking abilities without any concealnt for the first ti. The speed of her fingers just now was even faster than when she was at The Ninth Institute.
It was evident that she had held back at The Ninth Institute.
Otherwise, Wallace Radcliff and the others would have been flabbergasted.
Not to ntion Phoebe Hoffman.
If Phoebe saw Nathalie operate a computer with her own eyes, she would no longer arrogantly believe that her skills could compare to Nathalie’s.
Too bad there were no ifs.
"What are you checking?" Amadeus scooped away the froth from his tea with a sense of detachnt; others might not understand what Nathalie was doing, but he was very clear about how impressive she had just been. She was writing her own programming processor and had developed an IP tracker. A talent like her could easily overshadow Lincoln Hoffman back in her ho country.
No wonder so many formidable hackers from Red Alliance respected her; it was no fluke she was called SUN.
Nathalie lazily lifted her eyelids and did not hide anything from him: "Audrick Zachmann."
"?"
"He’s been acting strangely these past few days. His recent ssage to was also weird, so I’m checking his location."
Audrick claid that he was in Hestinn, recording a variety show.
If she finds that Audrick’s IP is indeed in Hestinn, then she might be overthinking things. However, if his IP address is not in Hestinn, then Audrick must be hiding sothing from her.
Nathalie narrowed her eyes, the wilfulness at the corners tempered, her hand rested on the table, tapping out an erratic rhythm. People familiar with her knew this was a sign; if she was tapping her fingers on the table, it ant she was feeling impatient, or at least not at ease.
Three minutes isn’t a long wait.
Soon after, the tracking results appeared on the computer.
IP tracking failed!
The green text, blocky and bold, appeared to Nathalie like a brazen challenge.
"Tsk, interesting," she chuckled, a renewed interest gleaming in her dark eyes as if finally sothing piqued her interest.
IP failure could only an one thing: Audrick was in a location where signals were blocked, and that place might be equipped with a large signal jamr or an anti-tracking system.
As far as she knew, there were no such places in her country nor a necessity for large anti-tracking systems.
But there was one place known for this practice.
Illegal Zone!
Light and shadows fluttered in Nathalie’s eyes; her alabaster hand propped her chin, and the arc of her mouth was casual yet defiant.
She didn’t continue her search and nonchalantly shut down the computer, grabbing her belongings, stood up, hands in her pockets, and said to the man: "I’m stepping out for a bit, tell Sadam Vinson for ."
*
Tsinghua University.
President’s office.
When Nathalie reached the door, she knocked politely, though her pose was full of audacity.
"Co in."
Soon, the steady voice of a middle-aged man was heard from inside.
Nathalie pushed the door open.
In the dark office, there was a bookshelf that stretched along an entire wall, filled with various books, next to it a vibrant green plant added a likable touch of color. Most striking in the office was a desk, embellished with writing brushes, an inkstone, and on the wall hung a calligraphy piece that read — Teach and nurture, cultivate the self and character.
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