Chapter 34 Why Did He Do This?
Selena's POV
I ignored their argument and walked straight to the machine.
It was a laser cutting machine specially customized for the "Chimera" technology, worth a fortune.
I narrowed my eyes, carefully observing every detail of the machine.
I saw several key indicator lights on the machine's control panel flashing wildly, showing abnormalities.
I reached out and touched the machine's casing, feeling a slight abnormal vibration.
"Move aside," I said coldly.
The engineers froze for a moment, but seeing Royce behind me, they obediently cleared a path.
I bent down and carefully examined the internal wiring of the machine.
My gaze quickly swept over every connection point, every cable.
Soon, my eyes stopped at an inconspicuous corner.
A thin fiber optic cable had been cleverly cut into a small section, then reconnected using a special conductive adhesive. On the surface, it appeared intact, but in reality, this connection would cause weak signal interference, ultimately leading to the entire system's collapse.
This was definitely not an accident.
And this cutting technique, this type of conductive adhesive... my heart sank.
I recognized this method. This was a very secretive way of sabotage, something only someone very familiar with the machine's structure and signal transmission principles could do.
Moreover, this conductive adhesive was a privately customized brand that Jonathan commonly used.
Jonathan?
My own uncle?
Why would he do this?
My brain was racing.
I couldn't think about Jonathan's motives right now. The most important thing was to repair the machine and secure the evidence.
"This isn't a malfunction. This is sabotage."
Everyone gasped.
Royce's face looked even worse.
"What?!" the supervisor exclaimed, "Impossible! Our security system..."
I ignored him and pulled out a set of portable tools from my handbag.
This toolkit was specially customized for me by Anna, containing some micro detection devices and repair tools.
I quickly put on my gloves, then bent down again and started the repair.
My movements were skilled and precise, each step textbook perfect.
I first used a micro spectrometer to test the damaged section of fiber optic cable, confirming the composition of the conductive adhesive.
Then, I carefully cut off the damaged section of fiber and reconnected it using professional fusion equipment, ensuring perfect signal transmission.
Throughout the entire process, I didn't make a single unnecessary sound or show a moment's hesitation.
"Also," I said to Royce without looking up, "have your technical team pull up all the operation logs and system access records for this machine from the past 24 hours, especially the sensor data near that damaged fiber optic cable section. I want a detailed report."
Royce immediately understood what I meant.
This was about tracking down whoever was behind this.
He immediately gave the order, and his assistant and engineers sprang into action.
About thirty minutes later, I completed the repair.
I straightened up, removed my gloves, then pressed the machine's start button.
With a slight hum, all the machine's indicator lights came on, and all parameters returned to normal.
"Done," I said flatly, as if I'd just done something trivial.
All the engineers in the workshop stared at me blankly, their faces full of shock and disbelief.
The machine they'd been struggling with for hours, completely stumped, had been fixed by me in less than thirty minutes?
Royce's gaze fell on my face. He looked at me deeply.
Royce's POV
This woman, she has some kind of damn magic about her.
One second, she was the one at the summit in a white suit, like a Valkyrie ready for battle.
The next second, she became the only god in this workshop.
Her movements repairing the machine were even smoother than those of my so-called top engineers.
I suddenly remembered how she refused the champagne at the villa earlier.
At the time, I just thought she was overly cautious. Now, thinking back, she probably misunderstood something.
Those desserts and champagne were all personally verified by me—there was absolutely no way they could be problematic.
Could it be that when she said she wasn't feeling well at the villa, she wasn't actually sick, but had sensed "danger" and wanted to escape?
At that moment, my assistant handed over a tablet.
"Mr. Sterling, here are the logs you requested."
I didn't take it, just lifted my chin toward Selena.
"Give it to her."
The assistant immediately understood and respectfully handed the tablet to her.
She took the tablet, her slender fingers swiping rapidly across the screen.
She read very quickly, as if reading a boring magazine rather than a technical report full of complex code and data.
Her fingers suddenly stopped, pupils contracting sharply—I knew she'd found something.
"What is it?" I stepped forward, trying to see what was on the screen.
But she turned off the screen and looked up at me.
"It was an inside job," she said, her tone as flat as if she were commenting on nice weather. "The access permissions for this workshop were temporarily tampered with, using an old, deactivated senior administrator code. Not many people have access to this code."
Her gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, toward the supervisor who had been shouting earlier.
The supervisor's face went white as a sheet.
"No! It wasn't me! Mr. Sterling, I swear!" He shook his head desperately, sweat streaming down his forehead.
I looked at him, my eyes turning cold. I didn't care if it was him or not. I only cared that there was a traitor on my turf.
"Take him away," I said to the bodyguard behind me.
"Wait."
Selena suddenly spoke.
Everyone looked at her.
"I need to do a final check on the calibration system," she pointed to an independent room at the far end of the workshop. "I need him to take me there."
She was pointing at the supervisor.
I frowned, not knowing what she was up to. But looking at those eyes that brooked no argument, I still nodded.
"Go ahead."Selena's POV
I followed the supervisor, who was nearly collapsing, into the so-called "calibration room."
As soon as I closed the door, blocking all eyes from outside, I immediately turned around and looked at him.
"I'm giving you one minute." My voice was cold. "Listen carefully. I'll only say this once."
He shuddered in fear, leaning against the wall like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
"I know it wasn't you."
He jerked his head up, his eyes full of shock and confusion.
"But Royce Sterling needs a scapegoat. And so do I." I pulled out a small encrypted device from my bag, connected it to my phone, and quickly operated it a few times.
"I just transferred one million dollars to an anonymous Swiss bank account. The account number and password have been sent to your wife's phone."
His mouth fell open.
"You..."