I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World-Chapter 143: Planning on Deploying

Fort Hanley, 0430 Hours.

The base was still dark when the trucks rolled in, engines humming low as they crossed through the final checkpoint. Guards saluted the convoy, then waved them through. Inside the hangars, crews had been working since midnight, clearing space and prepping the secure unloading zone.

Colonel Nathan Reynolds stood with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the lead container being lowered onto the tarmac.

"This is it," he said, half to himself.

Beside him, Master Sergeant Harper gave a small nod. "We've run prep drills a dozen times. We're ready."

Reynolds didn't look away. "Hope so. Because once this thing powers up, everything changes."

The first container hissed as the locks disengaged. Hydraulic arms unfolded. The doors opened with a low mechanical grind, revealing the towering frame of Titan Mk-I—matte black armor plates, reinforced joints, and that distinct blue glow at its core.

The HUD blinked.

SYSTEM STANDBY. READY FOR OPERATOR INPUT.

Harper took a step forward. "Still feels like something outta science fiction."

Reynolds didn't respond. He was already pulling out his tablet.

"Run the checklist. Get the sync pods prepped. Bring in the tech teams."

—

By 0600, the base had transformed. Each of the ten Titan units was now mounted on its calibration rack. Engineers from DARPA and Fort Hanley's own internal tech division moved between them, performing diagnostics.

In one of the prep rooms, four special operations soldiers were being briefed. All handpicked. All volunteers.

Captain Ross, a no-nonsense squad leader with three deployments under his belt, skimmed the training packet while the others suited up in neural interface bodysuits.

"This thing better work," he muttered. "If it boots me out mid-op, I'm not writing the after-action report."

His second-in-command, Sergeant Cruz, chuckled. "You mean if it boots you out mid-op, you won't be able to."

The tech running their briefing smiled nervously. "The suits have a multi-layered failsafe. Worst case, the system defaults to auto-recovery and disengages."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "In English?"

"It won't kill you."

Ross stared at him for a long second, then went back to reading.

—

In Hangar Bay 3, the first live sync test began at 0700.

Ross stepped into the Titan Mk-I rig slowly, the harness opening like a metal spine as he backed into it. The suit hissed, adjusted, then sealed shut around him. Inside, the HUD flickered to life.

NEURAL INTERFACE ONLINE.

SYNC INITIALIZING…

A soft pulse ran through his spine as the neural link settled. He gritted his teeth. It didn't hurt—but it wasn't comfortable either.

The voice of Dr. Elaine Ng, DARPA's lead scientist on-site, came through his helmet.

"Captain Ross, you're synced. Begin step test when ready."

Ross moved his foot forward—and the suit responded immediately. No lag. No delay. Just movement.

He took another step. Then turned. Then jogged.

"This thing… it moves like it knows what I want to do," Ross said aloud.

"That's the point," Dr. Ng replied. "Predictive neural mapping. The system reads your intent milliseconds before your muscles do."

Ross took off down the track. He hit a sprint. Sensors tracked his speed—over 30 miles per hour. He came to a sudden stop, then dove into a roll, landed on one knee, stood up again.

Inside the observation room, Colonel Reynolds watched the data stream.

"How's the core temp?" he asked.

"Stable," an analyst said. "Power draw's within limits. Sync integrity is holding."

Harper leaned in. "Sir, we've got something here."

Reynolds didn't respond. He just kept watching.

—

Later that afternoon, they moved on to combat simulations.

Targets were set up across the mock urban course. Ross, still inside the suit, was handed a modified M4 rifle fitted with the new recoil absorption unit.

"Let's see how you shoot while moving," Harper said over comms.

Ross nodded. The HUD inside his helmet marked each target with glowing outlines. He moved, raised the rifle, and fired on the move. The shots were accurate—more than usual.

"Damn," Ross muttered. "No kick."

"Recoil dampening's working," Dr. Ng said, checking the readout. "We'll need to fine-tune the aim assist, but this is clean."

Ross cleared the course in under three minutes. His accuracy? Ninety-six percent.

Back at the command table, Reynolds looked up from the results.

"Prep the next three suits," he said. "I want a full squad run by end of week."

—

Meanwhile, across the world in Manila, Matthew and Angel were watching the same feed from their command center.

The footage of Ross tearing through the mock village played on one monitor. Diagnostics and heat maps filled the others.

Angel scrolled through the sync integrity logs. "Zero lag, stable draw, minor heat bleed in the hip servos. Not bad."

Matthew nodded. "Not bad."

Daniel leaned in from behind them. "They're going to want tweaks. Always do."

Matthew didn't look away. "That's fine. Let them test. Let them push it. The more data they give us, the faster we improve."

Angel turned. "Do we respond now or wait for their official report?"

"Wait," Matthew said. "They're soldiers, not politicians. They'll send feedback when they have something real."

—

Back at Fort Hanley, Ross stepped out of the rig and peeled off the bodysuit. His shirt underneath was soaked with sweat, but he looked… impressed.

He turned to Reynolds, still catching his breath. "That thing's not a suit. It's a damn extension of your body."

Reynolds gave a rare smile. "Good. Because it's going to the field next."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Undisclosed, for now," the colonel replied. "But it's hot. And we'll need eyes in and out fast."

Ross didn't ask more. He just nodded.

"Get the rest of your team ready," Reynolds added. "Your op starts in two weeks."

—

Back in the lab, Dr. Ng wrote down the final note on her tablet before heading into the conference room.

General Reed was already there, joined by several senior officers and a remote link to the Pentagon.

"Field simulation passed," she began. "The Titan Mk-I unit performed better than projections. Sync efficiency is high. Power draw is manageable. No red flags."

Reed leaned back. "Is it ready for combat?"

Ng paused. "I believe so. But that depends on the mission parameters."

The general nodded. "That's already being handled."

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He turned toward the camera.

"Schedule the transport team. We're greenlighting live deployment. Let's see what this thing can really do."

—

That night, a secure email arrived in Matthew's inbox.

SENDER: U.S. DEPT. OF DEFENSE

SUBJECT: TITAN Mk-I FIELD OPERATION

MESSAGE: LIVE DEPLOYMENT APPROVED. LOCATION CLASSIFIED. FEEDBACK TO FOLLOW.

Matthew read it once. Then again.

Angel, sitting nearby, glanced over. "Well?"

"They're moving it to the field."

She sat back, exhaling. "That fast?"

"They've seen enough."

She looked at the screen, then back at him. "You worried?"

Matthew shook his head. "No."

Because he wasn't.

It was out of their hands now.

The Titan Mk-I was no longer just a prototype. It was officially a weapon.

And whatever happened next… the whole world would be watching.