Another thought came to Stan at that moment...
If the discovery of the Spirit Pool had truly gone viral over the past forty-eight hours, then the global scientific community was already aware of it. And if scientists knew, then governments, research institutions, and private laboratories certainly did as well.
By now, plans would already be in motion. Expeditions. Funding approvals. Access negotiations. Sample retrieval missions and test..
The international race to investigate the anomaly had almost certainly begun.
But the system hadn’t warned him that the scientific community might reach the Spirit Pool first.
It had warned him that it could be claimed by another party.
That wording was deliberate. Which meant the real competition probably wasn’t ordinary scientists.
Stan’s thoughts drifted back to Introduction to Earth.
The hidden clans. Ancient cultivation lineages that had survived the Night of Vanishing by withdrawing from public history and allowing themselves to become little more than myths.
If they still existed, and everything he’d experienced suggested they did, then they would recognize the Spirit Pool for what it truly was long before any modern laboratory could.
To the scientific world, it was an inexplicable chemical anomaly.
To cultivators, it was a treasure.
If those hidden clans had preserved even a fraction of their former knowledge, the appearance of a Spirit Pool would have sent shockwaves through every secret organization still watching the world from the shadows.
Which meant the countdown wasn’t really against governments or research teams.
It was against people who already understood exactly what they were looking at.
He needed to know how much the public knew.
More importantly, he needed to know what wasn’t being reported.
Stan reached for his phone and called Amelia.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Stan."
"Amelia, I need a favor."
"Go ahead."
"I need Vanguard to tap its intelligence network and assess the current landscape surrounding the Antarctic liquid pool discovery. I don’t care about the public narrative. I want to know who’s actually paying attention, not the people giving interviews, but the ones quietly moving money, equipment, and personnel."
There was a brief silence.
"...That’s a very specific request."
"I know, that’s why I need the vanguard."
"I’ll call you back."
The line went dead. Thirty-two minutes later, his phone rang. Stan answered immediately.
"Amelia."
"Stan." There was a tautness in her voice that hadn’t been there before. "You were right to ask."
His expression sharpened.
"Tell me."
"The public conversation is exactly what you’d expect. Scientists are debating the chemistry. Universities are requesting access. Journalists are publishing analyses. That’s the visible layer."
"And underneath?"
A short pause.
"Underneath, it’s something else entirely."
She continued.
"The organizations mobilizing serious resources toward Antarctica aren’t primarily scientific institutions."
Stan remained silent.
"They’re being funded."
"By whom?"
"Old-money family offices."
She let the words hang between them.
"The funding started appearing within the last forty-eight hours. Shell companies are suddenly underwriting polar expeditions, chartering specialized transport, acquiring cold-weather equipment, and leasing logistics vessels. On paper, it looks like private investment in scientific research."
"But it isn’t."
"No."
"What do the ownership trails show?"
"When our analysts dug through the corporate layers, they kept arriving at the same destination."
She exhaled quietly. "Families."
"What kind of families?"
"The kind that have been wealthy for centuries."
Stan’s eyes narrowed.
"Vanguard tracked at least a dozen private aircraft filing flight plans toward South American staging points over the past twenty-four hours. Most are registered to corporate proxies, but the beneficial ownership traces back to family offices with no previous involvement in polar research."
"And they’re all moving now?"
"Almost simultaneously."
She didn’t need to say the obvious.
That kind of coordination didn’t happen by accident.
"This isn’t a scientific response," Amelia said quietly. "It’s organized. Deliberate. And remarkably discreet."
Stan leaned back in his chair. "Thank you."
"You expected this?"
"Yes, I was hoping I was wrong."
"What exactly were you expecting?"
He was silent for a moment. "I’ll explain when I get back."
"...Get back from where?"
"Antarctica."
Silence. Then—
"Stan."
"I have to go."
"Why?"
"It’s important."
"Important enough to fly to Antarctica on almost no notice?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"How long?"
"A few days." He considered it. "Ten at the absolute most."
Amelia sighed. "...All right."
Her tone softened. "Be careful."
She hesitated before continuing. "If these families are moving this aggressively, then whatever they’re after isn’t something ordinary people are supposed to find."
"I know."
"I mean it, Stan."
"I’ll be careful."
"If you need anything, transport, equipment, legal cover, personnel, emergency extraction, Vanguard has assets almost everywhere."
A faint smile crossed his face. "I’ll let you know."
"You’d better."
Another brief silence.
Then she spoke more quietly. "Come back."
"I will."
The call ended.
Stan continued holding the phone for several seconds before lowering it onto the table.
The confirmation was exactly what he’d feared.
The old families were moving. Which meant the hidden world, or whatever remained of it, hadn’t merely noticed the Spirit Pool.
They had recognized it. And they had begun mobilizing almost immediately.
The system’s seven-day deadline suddenly felt far less generous.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"As expected." He leaned back, thinking aloud. "So cultivation knowledge isn’t entirely lost."
His gaze drifted toward the window.
"Those families almost certainly know exactly what a Spirit Pool is."
He fell silent.
Then another, far more practical realization struck him.
"...How am I actually supposed to get to Antarctica?"
He had the money. That wasn’t the problem. He didn’t own an aircraft capable of making the journey. Even if he did, he couldn’t fly one.
He had no experience navigating Antarctic logistics, securing landing permissions, or arranging transport onto one of the most isolated continents on Earth.
Unlimited wealth solved many problems. But it didn’t automatically solve this one. The thought had barely finished forming before—
Before the thought had fully formed, the system answered.
[Host concern detected.]
[Analyzing viable solutions...]
[Shop Updating...]
[Shop update complete.]
[New category unlocked: Skill & Profession Mastery.]
[Recommended purchase: Advanced Pilot Mastery.]
[Cost: 10 System Points.]
Stan blinked. Then he laughed. It was a quiet, disbelieving laugh.