Dorio looked at Sasha's distraught expression and let out a heavy sigh: "The most important thing you should have done then was to tell us everything truthfully and send us the data backup.
Let us figure out how to spread the news, using all our connections and networks in Night City.
And you, yourself, should have done everything possible to survive.
We were already downstairs at the time, and had even temporarily paralyzed their security system; we had every chance to rush in and meet you!
But you chose the most extreme, the most… unhelpful method."
Falco also added in a low voice, his tone tinged with the coldness of reality: "Biotechnica's warrant was issued, but in Night City, the effect of such a bounty is limited.
Teams with strength will weigh whether it's worth going to full-scale war with us for this bounty; those without strength, coming here is just suicide.
Currently, the company has not dispatched its elite action team, which is already a blessing in disguise.
But your actions certainly did not achieve your intended effect of 'not implicating' us; instead, they put us in a more passive position."
These cold, biting facts, one after another, struck Sasha's heart, shattering the perceived value of her 'sacrifice'.
Not only did she fail to expose the truth, but she also almost caused the team's complete annihilation and burdened them with the company's bounty.
Self-blame, guilt, despair… all kinds of emotions, like entangled venomous snakes, madly gnawed at her already fragile nerves.
Seeing Sasha completely collapse and fall into a state of self-seclusion, Rebecca, though still full of anger, unconsciously lowered her scolding, replaced by a sense of unvented frustration and a faint heartache.
She suddenly kicked the nearby workbench with a loud 'clang', and shouted impatiently: "Damn it! This is stifling! It's so damn stifling! I say, why don't we just find an opportunity to sneak into Biotechnica's lair and blow up a few of their labs! Get Sasha some revenge!"
Maine rubbed his tightly furrowed brow, trying to appease her: "Rebecca, calm down. Violence won't solve the fundamental problem; it will only make us a target for everyone."
He paused, then his gaze turned to Sasha, who was like a soulless puppet, and his tone softened: "However, there isn't absolutely no way to get the news out. I know an independent journalist; although his influence can't compare to giants like News 54, he has his own special channels.
And… she owes me a considerable favor.
Perhaps we can give him the information and see if he can release it."
These words were like a faint glimmer of light cast into endless darkness, making Sasha suddenly open her eyes again.
She clutched at it like a drowning person grasping a lifesaver, and with all her strength, she looked eagerly at Maine, her voice intermittent but filled with humble hope: "Data… I… I backed it up… in my private encrypted node… the key is…"
She recited a long string of complex passwords and node addresses, a faint glimmer of light rekindling in her eyes.
Maine carefully wrote down the information and nodded: "Okay, I'll contact him as soon as possible. But Sasha, you need to be mentally prepared; the power of independent journalists is ultimately limited, and even if the news gets out, it might quickly be completely drowned out by the company's propaganda machine."
Just then, a steady, emotionless synthesized voice interrupted the conversation, like a splash of ice water, making the faint flicker of hope that had just ignited sway violently.
"Inefficient, and most likely meaningless."
Osiris' tall, dark-red figure had quietly appeared near the medical bed at some point, his crimson optical lens scanning Sasha and Maine.
He had just finished another round of analysis on the dimensional transporter data, and seemed to have been drawn by the intense discussion here, or rather, it was an instinctive judgment of its inefficiency.
"Your assessment is based on emotional appeal, not realistic probability." Osiris' mechanical tentacles unconsciously traced a complex geometric trajectory in the air, as if simulating an invisible data stream, "Independent journalists exist in the cracks of the corporate system. He may have the willingness to publish, but he absolutely lacks the strength to counter the company's comprehensive countermeasures.
Biotechnica's legal department, its top-tier cybersecurity team, are fully capable of blocking, deleting, discrediting the information, or even making the publisher 'accidentally disappear' before the news can have any substantial impact.
The information you provide will most likely only become fleeting gossip in the underground network, unable to cause any quantifiable damage to the company's stock price, reputation, or policies."
He paused slightly, his optical lens turning to Maine: "Your mention of the 'propaganda machine' is accurate. Corporations firmly control mainstream information channels; they can easily create counter-narratives, portraying whistleblowers as mentally unstable former employees, or slanderers bought by competitors.
Based on a comprehensive analysis from both technical and social control perspectives, the success rate of this plan is less than three percent."
Osiris' words were cold and precise, stripping away all possibilities of warmth and starkly exposing the bloody reality to everyone.
Maine's crew fell silent; they knew in their hearts that Osiris was speaking the truth.
In Night City, confronting a corporation head-on in a public relations battle, especially against a giant like Biotechnica, was like throwing an egg against a rock.
Rebecca's comment about 'blowing up a few labs' was more an emotional outburst, and Maine's search for an independent journalist was more out of comfort for Sasha and a faint attempt not to give up.
Rebecca's face turned red with frustration; she glared at Osiris defiantly, and although she rationally understood that he made a lot of sense, she emotionally couldn't accept such a complete negation.
She retorted stubbornly: "Then what do you suggest?! Are we just going to let it go? Watch those bastards get away with it? Let Sasha's mother, and all those who were harmed, die in vain?! As long as the news gets out, someone will see it! Someone will remember!"
Osiris' crimson lens focused on Rebecca, his gaze seeming to penetrate her cybernetic eyes, directly analyzing the fiercely pulsating emotional centers in her brain.
"'Someone will see it,' this vague expectation has no practical operational value. What we need is to ensure that the information cannot be completely deleted, and that it can be forcibly delivered to a sufficient number of terminals, forming an undeniable tsunami of public opinion that briefly paralyzes the company's public relations response capabilities, thereby triggering a chain reaction — such as significant stock price fluctuations, or attracting mandatory investigations by government agencies."
His mechanical tentacles then turned to the workshop's main control terminal, quickly bringing up complex network topology diagrams and data flow analysis interfaces.
"Based on my continuous analysis of the local network architecture, especially the Blackwall protocol, I have devised a more efficient solution."
"Blackwall?" Maine's brows furrowed tightly; this word represented the most dangerous and uncontrollable mysterious domain in the cyber world.