Chapter 60
"The greatest pitfall in scientific research is being misled by random success," Arthur stated coldly, his voice hard as he flatly denied the evidence before him.
He turned to Heidi, his tone noticeably softening. "Heidi, have the Group's technical department prepare a detailed analysis report. I want to see sustained data support and rigorous third-party verification." A pause. "Don't be fooled by superficially impressive numbers."
Heidi immediately adopted a professional posture, nodding in agreement. "Of course, Mr. Windsor. I'll personally follow up."
Caroline listened in silence as he effortlessly dismissed all her days and nights of dedication, casually attributed her achievements to "chance," and assigned Heidi to "analyze" and "verify" her work.
Without a word, she turned off the demonstration screen. The massive data flow and that astonishing percentage instantly vanished as the laboratory returned to its previous cold white lighting.
"The demonstration is over," she said simply, then turned and walked toward the sample storage area, resuming her interrupted work as if the confrontation had never happened.
Arthur stared at her retreating figure, his brow furrowing deeper. He had expected more of a reaction—defense, anger, even resentment.
But there was nothing, just professional detachment that somehow made his chest tighten with an inexplicable dislike.
"Well then, Mr. Windsor, let's look at this next area..." Gavin smoothly intervened, guiding the inspection team toward other equipment.
As the group moved through the lab amid low murmurs about that fleeting glimpse of remarkable data, Heidi stayed close to Arthur, whispering something that made him bend his head to listen attentively, their closeness evident to anyone watching.
No one noticed when Caroline opened the ultra-low temperature freezer, her fingertips pausing momentarily on the frost-covered metal handle. The polished stainless steel surface dimly reflected both the group's movements and her own expressionless face.
That core algorithm prototype—dismissed by Arthur as "random" and handed to Heidi for "analysis"—had a copyright page where the first author's name was the one that had shocked the academic world seven years ago: Hamilton, C..
The inspection team had barely left when Frank approached Caroline, followed by several young researchers with their heads bowed low. He slapped an open proposal document onto the lab bench, the papers scattering with a sharp sound.
"There are some concerns about this protocol," he said, pushing his glasses up while avoiding direct eye contact, focusing instead on the expensive equipment behind her. "Mainly, the sample selection criteria are too vague."
A young bespectacled researcher quietly added, "And the parameter settings are too... aggressive. We've never run things this way before. The risks are difficult to assess."
Another spoke even more quietly, "Also, there are rumors circulating that the Windsor Group's medical division is saying that your research from seven years ago, the authorship seems to..." The unfinished sentence clearly implied doubts about Caroline's previous scientific achievements.
Caroline ignored them and walked directly to the central lab bench. Without even sitting down, she turned on the computer, connected the data cables, and her fingers tapped a few keys to bring up a complex modeling interface.
"I revised the preliminary protocol last night, working through until morning," she said as the screen's light enveloped her. "Sample standards, parameter settings—everything follows the new protocol."
She tore open the sterile packaging of a sample box with a harsh sound. "If you don't believe me, we can start running it right now."
Finally turning to face them, she delivered her challenge, "Three hours. If the data is even slightly worse than the baseline, I'll resign immediately and personally send my resignation to Mr. Bennett."
Frank instantly panicked. "Ms. Hamilton, there's no need to bother Mr. Bennett... we were just discussing..."
"Too afraid?" Caroline interrupted, putting on sterile gloves with a dull sound. She picked up a pipette, expertly adjusting the calibration dial while keeping her eyes fixed on them. "So, is it my protocol that's the problem? Or is it me?"
Throughout the entire laboratory, even the low-frequency hum of the equipment seemed to grow more distinct. No one dared respond.
Caroline lowered her head and began working methodically. Pale blue liquid was precisely drawn and injected, centrifuge tubes lined up on the rack, and indicator lights glowed softly as the team stood rooted to the spot, listening to the soft sounds of her calibrating instruments and recording data.
Frank leaned dejectedly against the wall, his brow knotted, palms cold and clammy with sweat.
Three hours later, the main analyzer emitted a long "beep."
On the screen, a complete report was generated. Caroline hit Enter, and the printer began working, hissing as it expelled hot sheets of paper. She took the still-warm report and walked over to Frank, handing it to him.
Frank accepted it with trembling fingertips. His gaze moved from top to bottom, reading faster and faster until it locked on the final line.
"Detection specificity... ninety-six percent?" He looked up sharply, his voice cracking. "Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!"
"Why is it impossible?" Caroline returned to the computer, opened an encrypted folder, and entered a long, complex password.
On the screen, a series of files appeared: [Experiment Records from Seven Years Ago], [Manuscript Drafts], [Original Data Backups], and more.
She casually opened a scanned document. "For Marker A selection, using this centrifuge, I ran seventeen tests in total. Here are all the records."
Next came a blurry surveillance video clip, the timestamp clearly showing various late-night hours. "I revised the core parameters forty-three times before achieving the data you saw in that paper."
She closed all the windows at once and turned to face the now ashen-faced group. "Every piece of data here, every decimal point, was produced by my own hands. So I have absolute authorship rights."
Her voice grew colder. "If the Windsor Group's medical team is questioning my research results, let them present evidence instead of engaging in these underhanded tactics behind my back."
She pointed to the report in Frank's hands, her eyes scanning everyone's faces before she spoke deliberately, one word at a time. "Now, does anyone else have objections about me or the new protocol?"
Everyone shook their heads. After a long moment, Frank finally spoke through clenched teeth, his voice dry and hoarse. "We were too quick to believe the rumors. Ms. Hamilton, we... we're sorry."
The young researchers hung their heads even lower, looking utterly mortified. "We... we believed those lies... We were wrong, Ms. Hamilton. From now on, we'll follow your instructions completely!"
Apologies rose one after another as they stood shamefaced and remorseful before the woman they had wrongly doubted.