Chapter 169
Niamh dashed out from backstage and ran up to Lucinda, her eyes sparkling. "Master! You were so cool just now! Everyone in the audience was mesmerized!"
She looped her arm through Lucinda's and shook it excitedly. "Especially when you stood on stage talking—you were practically glowing! If I were one of those partners, I'd be fighting to work with you too!"
Lucinda swayed under her tugging, a little helpless. She reached out and flicked Niamh lightly on the forehead. "Stop that."
Niamh clutched her forehead, giggling twice before leaning in again and lowering her voice. "Master, did you see? When my brother was watching you from the audience just now, his eyes were practically glued to you."
Lucinda turned her head slightly toward where Reginald stood.
He was by the window, phone in hand, apparently handling some work.
Sunlight streamed in through the glass, casting a soft glow over his sharp profile and making his deep-set eyes look lighter.
As if sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met.
His lips curved slightly, and he gave a small wave with his phone.
Lucinda looked away, her own smile widening just a bit.
Niamh caught it all and silently applauded her own cleverness.
This sister-in-law—she'd chosen so well.
No, wait. She hadn't chosen her. Heaven had sent her.
As for her brother…
Niamh sneaked a glance at Reginald and muttered inwardly, 'Reginald, you better step up. Don't embarrass the Lancaster family.'
At two in the afternoon, the multipurpose hall at the research institute was packed once again.
This time, the attendees weren't corporate representatives from the morning session—they were senior leaders from major research institutions.
Word had spread fast. News that Ridgeway Tech had obtained high-purity Crimson Star Crystal was now common knowledge.
"Ninety-nine point nine-seven percent purity? That doesn't seem possible."
A middle-aged man pushed up his glasses, his tone dripping with skepticism.
He was Kian, the deputy director of a well-established domestic research institute. He'd been in the field for nearly thirty years and had seen far too many exaggerated claims.
The people around him didn't respond, but their expressions were similar.
Crimson Star Crystal was currently the most suitable new material for intelligent robot core components. Its stability, conductivity, and biocompatibility crushed existing materials across the board.
But the problem was, refining this material was extraordinarily difficult.
The world's top labs could only achieve seventy-five percent purity. Beyond that, every additional 0.1 percent increase in purity scaled exponentially in difficulty.
Ninety-nine point nine-seven percent—that number was so perfect it was hard to believe.
Lucinda stood on stage, her gaze sweeping over the faces below—some expectant, some doubtful—her expression calm.
She didn't rush to speak. She simply pressed the remote in her hand lightly. The large screen behind her lit up.
The Crimson Star Crystal test reports flipped by page by page. The data was clear. Every metric was meticulously labeled.
The room went quiet for a moment, then murmurs began to rise.
Kian stared at the screen for a long while, his brow furrowing deeper.
He stood up, his gaze sharp. "Ms. Wipere, these data points are indeed impressive. But I have a question. Having raw materials is one thing. Being able to use them properly is another. The properties of Crimson Star Crystal are completely different from existing materials. Traditional processing methods simply won't work. To my knowledge, the number of technical teams domestically capable of handling materials at this level can be counted on one hand."
He paused, his gaze settling on Lucinda's face. "More accurately, there's only one person who can truly handle it."
Someone in the audience picked up the thread. "Felix."
The moment that name was spoken, the atmosphere in the multipurpose hall shifted noticeably.
Felix—a legendary name in the scientific community. Papers with citation counts that had topped the charts for years running. Products that had won countless international awards.
But this person was too mysterious. No one had ever seen their face. No one knew their age. Even their gender was a mystery.
Kian looked at Lucinda, his tone measured. "Ms. Wipere, with all due respect, if Felix isn't involved, I'm afraid Ridgeway Tech's current technical team will struggle to handle materials at this level."
He didn't finish his sentence, but the implication was clear.
You have the materials—that's great. But whether or not you can actually use them properly? That's another matter entirely.
Quite a few people in the audience were nodding.
Lucinda listened, then her lips curved slightly.
She didn't answer Kian's question directly. Instead, she turned her head and looked toward a certain spot in the front row.
"Gaia, Niamh, come up."
Gaia was sitting in a corner taking notes. Hearing her name, she froze for a moment, then closed her notebook and stood.
Niamh was sitting beside her, a candy still in her mouth. Hearing her master call her, she sprang up and jogged after Gaia.
The two of them walked onto the stage one after the other and stood before the lab table.
Every eye in the room locked onto them.
Lucinda's voice came from the side. "Since no one believes us, we'll run the experiment live for everyone to see. Niamh, Gaia, do it just like we rehearsed this morning. Start with material purity verification, then biocompatibility testing, and finally a real-time response demo of the smart control system."
Soon, the experiment began.
Gaia handled the operations. Niamh recorded the data.
The two worked in seamless sync—a gesture, a glance, and they knew what the other needed.
One instrument after another on stage powered up. Data lines appeared on the screen one after another.
The first two stages went smoothly. The material purity verification matched the test reports perfectly. The biocompatibility test results were even better than expected.
Kian sat in the third row, his expression shifting from doubt to gravity.
But halfway through the third stage, something went wrong.
The response curve on the screen suddenly began to fluctuate. The previously smooth line jerked a few times. The data started showing deviations.
Gaia's brow furrowed. Her fingers flew across the control panel, trying to adjust the parameters. But the curve didn't stabilize—it shook even harder.
Murmurs rose from the audience.
"The data's off."
"Response delay exceeded the threshold."
"Looks like it's not working after all…"
Kian leaned back in his chair and shook his head lightly.
A thin layer of sweat appeared on Gaia's forehead. Her fingers were still tapping the keyboard, but her movements were noticeably more frantic than before.
She'd debugged these parameters countless times. She knew every value by heart.
But the data jumping across the screen now didn't match her expectations.
Niamh panicked too. She leaned over and whispered, "The third parameter set seems wrong. Should we roll back to the previous version?"
Gaia bit her lip, about to nod—
A hand reached over from the side. Long, slender fingers tapped the keyboard twice lightly, then twice more.
Lucinda had appeared behind them at some point.
She wasn't looking at the screen. Her gaze rested on Gaia and Niamh's faces, her lips curved in a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
"The third parameter set isn't wrong. You just misunderstood it. Look at the feedback data from the seventh logic layer. You're interpreting the data in the wrong direction."
Gaia froze.
Niamh froze too.
Both of them turned to look at the screen at the same time, then turned back to look at Lucinda. The confusion in their eyes slowly faded.
Gaia took a deep breath. Her fingers returned to the keyboard.
This time, her movements were much steadier than before—no longer rushed, no longer flustered. She dismantled the data line by line, layer by layer.