Chapter 220: All Lies
The press conference proceeded as scheduled.
Blinding camera flashes flooded the hall like artificial daylight. Hundreds of eyes bore into the stage with a mixture of anticipation and scrutiny. The moment Isabella stepped up to the podium, a thin sheen of sweat instantly dampened her temples.
"Ms. Capulet, you appear quite nervous," a sharp-eyed financial reporter struck first, thrusting his microphone forward like a weapon. "Does this indicate a lack of confidence in Infinity Ventures Corporation's new material, Crystaphene?"
The question was razor-edged, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Isabella drew a deep breath, forcing herself into composure before offering a professional, measured smile. "Quite the contrary. My nervousness stems from the profound awareness that what I hold represents technology capable of transforming our entire era. As for Crystaphene itself—I possess one hundred percent confidence."
She paused deliberately, her voice carrying clearly through the microphone across the packed room. "Based on over a thousand rigorous experiments and validations in our laboratory, Crystaphene exhibits an extraordinarily stable molecular structure. It maintains its exceptional physical and chemical properties under the most extreme environmental conditions. It is, without question, the most perfect next-generation battery material we've ever discovered."
"If that's the case, why do you look so... uneasy?" another reporter pressed relentlessly.
"Because I'm witnessing history." Isabella's gaze swept the audience, her eyes gleaming with almost fervent intensity. "What stands before me is a paradigm-shifting miracle that could completely revolutionize the existing new-energy landscape. Its applications extend far beyond automotive use—residential energy storage, portable devices, aerospace engineering... Its potential exceeds the imagination of anyone in this room."
The declaration resonated powerfully, successfully redirecting focus from her personal demeanor to the technology's grand narrative, temporarily suppressing the skeptical murmurs.
When the reporters realized they couldn't extract any vulnerabilities from Isabella, they swiftly pivoted their assault toward Richard. Technical details proved too arcane for their purposes—but the chess game of business and capital? That was their home turf.
"Mr. Spencer, why would Infinity Ventures Corporation suddenly stake everything on the notoriously high-risk new materials sector? Before committing such massive R&D investment, did you assess the possibility of total loss? According to our sources, every other top-tier laboratory worldwide remains trapped at the bottleneck stage in this field."
Richard gripped the microphone, the corner of his mouth curving into a composed arc as though everything remained firmly under control. "Risk and opportunity are inseparable—that's Business 101. Perhaps our ability to achieve this breakthrough first simply comes down to approaching the problem from a slightly different angle than everyone else."
His response was airtight, projecting both confidence and an intriguing air of mystery.
Immediately, another reporter lobbed a more trap-laden question: "Then Mr. Spencer, has Infinity Ventures Corporation considered publicly releasing Crystaphene's synthesis formula? As an industry giant, shouldn't your company shoulder the corresponding social responsibility to advance the entire sector's collective progress?"
The question bristled with sensitivity. One misstep, and they'd be branded with accusations of "industry monopoly" and "profit-hungry greed."
Richard's expression remained utterly unruffled. "Infinity Ventures Corporation never makes promises we can't keep. Before achieving cost-effective, large-scale mass production, discussing 'open-sourcing' and 'knowledge-sharing' would be premature. That wouldn't constitute responsibility—it would constitute irresponsibility toward the market and our investors."
He deftly redirected the question toward the practical obstacle of "mass production," temporarily defusing the moral blackmail.
The interview segment rushed past in a blur of tense exchanges. Richard, wielding impeccable business logic and commanding presence, systematically dismantled the reporters' relentless onslaught.
Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived—the product demonstration.
Under countless camera lenses and awestruck gazes, Isabella slowly lifted from an exquisite velvet case that precious specimen of "Crystaphene."
—A chunk of rock candy hastily procured from the supermarket downstairs.
To make it appear authentic, Emily and several colleagues had spent half the day meticulously sculpting it against photographs, barely managing to replicate the sample's facets and luster.
Yet the moment that substantial weight pressed into her palm, Isabella's smile froze imperceptibly.
This "counterfeit" weighed at least three pounds.
She suppressed the ache in her wrist, hoisting it high overhead, her voice brimming with pride that contradicted reality entirely. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present our star of the show—Crystaphene. According to precise laboratory measurements, its density is extraordinarily low, weighing merely one-tenth that of traditional battery materials of equivalent volume."
"Yet its energy storage performance is phenomenally robust," Isabella's voice climbed with mounting fervor, as though genuinely introducing a masterpiece for the ages. "Pound for pound, Crystaphene's storage efficiency surpasses anything currently available by orders of magnitude. It is, unquestionably, the undisputed champion of performance!"
Just as the atmosphere reached its crescendo, a discordant voice shattered the harmony.
"Wait a minute! According to the agenda we received, there's supposed to be a live performance demonstration here. Why was it canceled?"
The words ignited a firestorm.
That single question was a spark landing in dry tinder, instantly inflaming every reporter's latent suspicions.
"Could it be this thing isn't remotely as miraculous as you've been claiming?"
"Did you fabricate the data and promotional videos to manipulate the market?"
"Exactly! Something this lightweight outperforming lead-acid batteries? Who are you kidding?!"
"Why is Infinity Ventures Corporation suddenly afraid to proceed with the scheduled live demonstration? What are you hiding?!"
The tidal wave of accusations crashed over Isabella. Standing on that stage, she felt like an exposed fraud, utterly humiliated.
If the genuine article were still available, she would've obliterated these doubts without hesitation using hard experimental data.
But right now? She was clutching a chunk of rock candy. She could hardly showcase "Infinity Ventures Corporation's groundbreaking technological prowess" to the entire world using this.
"Because... because live experiments introduce uncontrollable variables, and to ensure the conference's safety and smooth progression..." Isabella's explanation sounded pathetically weak even to her own ears.
"No problem!" A reporter immediately cut her off, tone dripping with aggression. "We don't mind relocating upstairs to your laboratory! Seeing is believing! Otherwise, this entire press conference is nothing but an elaborate scam!"
"That's right! Take us to the lab!"
"Live verification NOW!"
Like sharks detecting blood in the water, the reporters closed in relentlessly, cutting off every avenue of escape.
Isabella felt a splitting headache coming on.
Meanwhile, William sat in the back row, coldly observing the chaos unfolding onstage. He'd come expecting to watch Isabella squirm—but his attention snagged unexpectedly on a furtive figure.
The man blended seamlessly into the reporter pack, ostensibly following the crowd. Yet at every critical juncture, he was invariably the first to fan the flames. He'd shout one or two maximally inflammatory remarks, instantly igniting collective outrage, then dissolve back into the masses as though nothing had happened.
Years of corporate warfare honed William's instincts to razor sharpness.
This man was absolutely not what he appeared. He wasn't a reporter—he was a saboteur.