Chapter 59
The sunlight was a bit blinding as Caroline stood at the school gates, watching the scene before her—a picture-perfect family tableau that could have been from a carefully shot advertisement.
Caroline felt her eyes sting slightly from the glare—or perhaps from something else. She quietly tightened her grip on little Rena's hand.
"Rena, we're here."
With her back perfectly straight, she led Rena through the school gates from another direction. She didn't look back.
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The experimental zone at Zenith Technologies Ltd had already resumed its busy rhythm by the time Caroline arrived.
She had barely settled at her desk and opened her computer when whispered conversations drifted in from the adjacent workstation.
"...Is it true? She got in through connections?"
"Who knows. But yesterday afternoon, that Ms. White came to deliver documents to Mr. Windsor, right? The pretty one who's always with Mr. Windsor..."
"She said that? How would she know about Ms. Hamilton's situation?"
"From what I gathered, they knew each other before? Apparently, Ms. Hamilton was just a full-time housewife, staying home with the kids. She doesn't actually understand neuroscience at all. Her papers were published years ago..."
"Shhh, keep it down—"
The mouse tightened in Caroline's grip, its plastic shell making a faint creaking sound. She didn't need to think hard about the source of this precise and malicious gossip. Heidi.
She released the mouse and clicked open the project folder on her desktop, her eyes devoid of warmth just as Gavin happened to pass by her office door.
He paused, seemingly having overheard the gossip, then walked in and patted Caroline's shoulder.
"Ignore that idle chatter," his voice wasn't loud, but clear enough. "Empty minds need words to feel relevant."
He pointed to Caroline's computer screen. "The project mid-term review meeting this afternoon—those stubborn old guards from the tech department will all be there." A pause. "Silence them with your capability."
Caroline looked up, the sunlight from the window falling across her face and revealing a flash of cold steel in the depths of her eyes. She nodded once. "I understand."
At one-thirty in the afternoon, the neuroscience laboratory hummed only with the low-frequency drone of operating equipment.
The air felt suspended until the air-sealed door released a slight hiss as it slid open.
Gavin led a group inside, and the hushed conversations in the lab instantly ceased.
Arthur walked at the front, looking at no one, his gaze sweeping directly across the cold metallic gleam of the instruments as if inspecting a collection of lifeless, expensive parts.
Behind him followed Heidi in a crisp white suit, holding a tablet, her fingertips unconsciously tapping its edge.
She peered over Arthur's shoulder at Caroline, who stood at the main console, then spoke with deliberate clarity in the quiet laboratory.
"Arthur, is this the project you mentioned?" She paused, changing tack. "The lead is Ms. Hamilton, right? I heard she hasn't touched this kind of work in years."
The inspection team made soft shuffling sounds as they moved across the floor in their shoe covers.
Gavin cleared his throat, but his attempt at an ice-breaking introduction died on his lips after encountering Arthur's cold profile. He ultimately just gave Caroline a meaningful look.
Caroline pressed the laser pointer in her hand, a red dot precisely hitting the core of the holographic image—a complex three-dimensional structure in dynamic transformation.
"This is our current focus—the 'Glial Cell Microenvironment Simulation System,'" her voice rang clear. "It primarily works by simulating the internal environment to observe neuronal responses and repair mechanisms under different stimuli. The goal is to—"
Heidi's voice cut in sharply, "Caroline, don't just showcase models. This 'glial cell simulation system'—can you honestly say how much of it will actually be implementable?"
She stepped forward, deliberately turning her tablet screen toward the Windsor Group delegation. "I was just discussing with international experts last week. The clinical conversion rate for these systems tops out at 40%. Your model looks flashy, but have you even completed basic stability testing?"
The technical director in the gray suit immediately chimed in, "Ms. White is right! The Windsor Group doesn't waste effort. Without conversion data, this project is just burning money!"
Arthur frowned, his gaze sweeping over Caroline. "Caroline, don't beat around the bush. Heidi understands clinical applications. You need to address her concerns directly. How long has the system been running? What's the actual repair rate?"
"Yes, Ms. Hamilton," another delegation member pressed, "if you haven't even tried a continuous 72-hour run, you shouldn't be tying up resources!"
A young researcher behind Caroline flushed with anger and was about to speak when Caroline raised her hand to stop him.
Without looking at anyone, her fingers quickly swiped across the control panel. The adjacent LCD screen lit up, displaying bold numbers: [72-hour run, 89% neuronal repair rate].
"As for clinical conversion," Caroline's voice was flat yet cut through all the noise, "it's 37 percentage points higher than the industry's best standard. The raw data is available anytime. Would you like to see the backup records now?"
The laboratory instantly became so quiet you could hear breathing.
Arthur looked surprised, staring at the figures, his fingers unconsciously tightening. He never imagined Caroline could produce such powerful results.
Caroline, just a housewife—how could she generate these numbers? Surely this was just another trick of hers, taking credit for others' work.
Several technical staff in the Windsor Group delegation widened their eyes, involuntarily stepping forward to stare at the continuously updating data on the screen. Those percentage figures burned like branding irons.
The composure on Heidi's face instantly froze as she stared at the screen, her lips moving silently, trying to find a flaw but unable to do so. Her fingertips gripping the tablet turned white from pressure.
Seeing everyone's reactions, Arthur's brows furrowed deeper. His sharp gaze fixed on those numbers, as if trying to penetrate the screen to verify their authenticity.
Gavin broke the frozen atmosphere with a chuckle. He walked to Caroline's side and patted the main console.
"Mr. Windsor, don't take offense," he said smoothly. "These are preliminary results that Dr. Hamilton and her team produced after three consecutive all-nighters." He paused. "Perhaps it still seems a bit 'childish' and immature."
He looked at Arthur, smiling on the surface while his eyes remained cold. "Do you think these figures meet your standards?"
Arthur's gaze shifted from the screen to Caroline's pallid face and the barely noticeable dark circles under her eyes.
His jawline tensed as he finally responded, "Random data from a single node proves nothing."