Chapter 513: Don't disorganize yourself

"Whether I've thrown dirty water or not, everyone will know later."

After saying that, I made a gesture to Antoine and asked him to sit down.

After he sat down, he placed the microphone a little closer and looked straight in the direction where Fredrick was, "Thank you President Green for giving me this opportunity, where I would like to talk about how Y&M's designers, forcibly bought away the design that I spent several years of my life's work on."

"What are you!"

Margarita Baron instantly couldn't sit still and got up to roar angrily, "Yorlien Green, don't think that you can slander our Y&M by grabbing just anyone over here!"

Saying that, she also wanted to rush over to completely interrupt Antoine's words.

"Stop her!"

I immediately ordered the other employees.

Margarita Baron was stopped and Antoine's voice continued.

He took out the purchase contract that Fredrick had signed with him, and went over what he had said in the conference room, in front of all the media, in its original form and even more detail.

He spoke in a well-organized manner, so that people could hardly find any loopholes, and the faces of many reporters, all changed.

Some have already left early, ready to rush the company to write and publish, to seize the first opportunity.

Others, want to see, will there be something more explosive.

Of course, there are also journalists who want to find ways to make things difficult, journalists want to make things difficult, after all, there are a thousand ways.

"Is it not good to take all the money and then run out and say, so pawn and stand up again?"

This question made Antoine's face turn blue.

This reporter directly ignored, what Antoine said, that Fredrick had set his mother up.

Another reporter was even more tricky, "If it wasn't for your mother's own good gambling, how could she have been set up and framed?"

Antoine looked at him with disgust in his eyes and said sharply, "I am also against my mother's gambling, it's just that, this is a very level-headed question you're asking.

Then may I ask, if you get beaten up by me later, can I say, who made you to ask that just now, if you didn't ask, how would you get beaten up by me?"

The reporter choked.

I quickly spoke out, pulling back the focus that had been deliberately sidetracked by them, "So, I would like to ask you all, can a designer who would only try to forcefully buy other people's work still truly do design? Furthermore, the style is too similar to mine. Besides, he said he could produce evidence that predates the time of my manuscript, and I'd like to ask him to do so now."

There was no more sound in the room except that of the camera and Margarita Baron.

The silence lasted only three seconds, however.

Fredrick doesn't waste every move he makes. He stands up, takes the plunge, and walks toward me, avoiding the question, "So, I'd also like to ask the journalists if a designer whose father admitted that she plagiarized, and who sent his bodyguards to beat up her sister-in-law, can design something as warm as Warm Light? Warm Light?"

Larry obviously just pushed his sister-in-law a little, but in his mouth, it has risen to more than one level.

Obviously it was not true, but my heart still panicked for a moment, and I unconsciously clenched my fists.

Because of this, it's true that I haven't found any evidence that can be cleared, and coupled with what my sister-in-law said in the interview, I was at my wits' end.

"Huh? Nothing to say?"

He suddenly reached out and beckoned in one direction.

I followed it, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Fredrick's face stiffened for a moment as well, and he took a large step over to me, and finally, kicking a chair down violently, he came toward me angrily again.

"Anyway, I'm sure the public won't accept a designer with such a poor character!"

He threw out this sentence, and the media that he sent over, chimed in with sharp words.

For a moment, standing on the moral high ground, they almost used the character issue to crush all the efforts I had made before.

I racked my brain, thinking of ways to fight back.

The road of transferring the surveillance has been blocked for a large part of the way.

The only way, then, was to get my sister-in-law to speak for me in turn, but that was unrealistic.

I could only open my mouth and explain, "Regarding my sister-in-law's matter, we're already tuning the entire surveillance on the day of the incident, the property was deleted but we're in the process of trying to recover it, and once it's recovered, it'll be made public right away to return the truth to everyone."

"Recover? When will it be recovered? Mouth talk is no proof!"

"Who wouldn't be able to talk about it, President Green, with all this pushback, are we to understand that this is the truth and you can't clarify it!"

...

The aggressiveness of the reporter caused me to abruptly rise from my chair, and as I was about to speak, Myron Baron's eyes fell firmly on me, giving me a reassuring look.

I was a bit puzzled, but it felt, as if he was telling me not to upset myself.

It was as if he ... had an idea?