Frank stood center stage, basking in the attention of the audience. His excitement practically radiated as he motioned for Robert, his lead engineer, to join him. The crowd watched as Robert stepped up, and Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud grin stretched across his face.

"Everyone, this is Robert, the brains behind our latest project!" Frank announced, his voice booming through the speakers. "He's the one who came up with the brilliant concept for our new robot." A buzz ran through the audience as they murmured in anticipation. As Robert gave a modest wave, Frank continued, "Now, let's talk about what makes our robot revolutionary. You've all heard of Metacortex, yes? Well, they may have their little helper bot, but let me tell you-our creation is on a whole new level." He chuckled. "This isn't just some helper with wheels and basic programming; this robot has hands, legs, and it can perform tasks just like a human. Imagine the possibilities!"

Some guests leaned forward, intrigued, while others whispered to each other in curiosity. Claire, standing at the back with Matthew, rolled her eyes.

"Is he for real?" she whispered to Matthew, crossing her arms. "A robot with full capabilities, built in a month? No way."

Matthew chuckled, glancing at her. "Just wait until he starts the demo. We'll see if all this bragging holds up."

Meanwhile, Frank kept the spotlight on Robert. "Tell them about the robot's features, Robert," Frank prompted, gesturing for Robert to speak.

Robert cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable but ready to give his pitch. "Well, our robot can follow voice commands, so there's no need for remote controls. We wanted something that responds naturally to human input. It's designed to assist in tasks that require precision, from carrying objects to performing routine maintenance tasks."

Frank jumped back in, smiling arrogantly. "Exactly! None of that outdated remote nonsense-our robot is built for convenience and efficiency, making Metacortex look like amateurs." The audience chuckled, some nodding in approval.

Claire snorted softly. "Right, because remotes are so last century," she whispered sarcastically to Matthew.

"Hey," Matthew replied with a smirk, "who needs remotes when your robot has an independent streak?"

Frank continued, oblivious to the whispering in the crowd. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've been waiting for-the unveiling!"

He stepped to the side, grasped the edge of the drape covering the robot, and yanked it down dramatically. The fabric pooled on the floor, revealing a gleaming, humanoid robot standing in the spotlight. The audience gasped, and flashes of cameras went off as people whipped out their phones to capture the moment.

With a smug grin, Frank looked straight at Claire, his eyes brimming with a smugness that only she could recognize. But she kept her face neutral, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the show with barely concealed skepticism.

Frank took a step forward, hands outstretched as he addressed the crowd. "Now, let's see this robot in action. It's all voice-commanded, so watch how seamlessly it responds!" He turned to the robot. "Pour a cup of water."

The robot whirred to life, its mechanical arm moving with a slight jerk before reaching out to the table beside it. It picked up a glass and carefully poured water from a nearby pitcher, filling the glass without spilling a drop. The crowd murmured in amazement, and Frank beamed. "See? Precision, efficiency, ease."

"Let's see how long this goes smoothly," Claire muttered to Matthew, who raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Frank continued, clearly in his element. "Robot, jump!"

The robot executed a small hop, landing with a soft thud, much to the delight of the audience, who clapped in appreciation.

"And now," Frank said, flashing his winning smile, "for something a bit more complex. Robot, move that chair over there."

The robot turned toward the chair and bent down, grasping it with its metal hand. But as it began to lift, the audience noticed a slight hesitation. The robot paused, its head tilting to the side as though confused. Frank frowned. "Move the chair," he repeated, his voice a little sharper.

But the robot didn't respond. Instead, it stood frozen, its arm still clutching the chair as the soft whirring sound from its motors grew louder. Frank shot a glance at the tech team on the side, who were looking increasingly concerned.

Then, with a sudden jerk, the robot started moving again. But instead of lifting the chair, it began swinging it wildly, smashing it against the stage floor. The audience gasped, and a ripple of nervous laughter spread as the robot continued its rampage. Frank's eyes widened, and he quickly stepped back. "Stop! Robot, stop!" he shouted, but the robot ignored him, its mechanical limbs flailing as it continued its chaotic tantrum.noveldrama

Robert rushed to Frank's side, whispering frantically. "We need to shut it down, Frank."

"Yes, shut it down! What's taking so long?" Frank hissed, panic flaring in his eyes as he tried to keep his voice low.

The tech team scrambled around

backstage, pressing buttons on

laptops and fidgeting with wires, but

the robot remained on its

destructive path. Pieces of the shattered chair littered the stage as the robot turned, now facing Frank. He backed up, trying to keep his composure as flashes from cameras intensified, the journalists eating up every moment of the chaos.

Robert rushed over to the tech team. "Is there an emergency shutdown button?"

One of the techs shook his head, looking pale. "No, we... we didn't install one."

Robert slapped a hand to his forehead. "Unbelievable."

At the back, Claire couldn't suppress her laughter anymore, though she tried to keep it quiet. Matthew was shaking his head, thoroughly entertained by the unfolding disaster. "Guess Frank's so-called 'cutting-edge' tech didn't include a failsafe," Claire whispered to him with a smirk.

Matthew stifled a laugh. "Guess not."

Finally, Claire sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, that's enough fun." She stepped forward, making her way toward the stage. Matthew's eyes widened as he caught up to her. "What are you doing?" "I'm going to fix his mess," she said, her voice full of mock exasperation. "Might as well save the day."

Frank caught sight of her approaching and looked even more flustered, but he didn't have time to stop her as she slipped backstage and addressed the tech team.

"Where's the main control?" Claire asked briskly.

One of the techs, too panicked to argue, pointed to a laptop. "There."

Without wasting a second, Claire sat down and began typing, her fingers moving in rapid, precise taps. The screen flashed with code as she dove intothe robot's operating system, looking for any way to force a reboot. A few tense moments passed, and then with a final keystroke, she hit enter. The robot

powered down, its whirring noise

fading to silence as it slumped,

motionless, on the stage.

A hush fell over the crowd, broken only by the frenzied clicking of cameras. Frank tried to regain his composure, attempting to calm the audience, but it was clear that their attention had now shifted fully to Claire.

As she walked back on stage, one of the journalists called out, "Ms. Claire! Why did you help Venus AMD?"

Claire shot a look at Frank, who was visibly seething, his face red as he struggled to mask his frustration.

With a cool smile, Claire shrugged. "I didn't want to see anyone get hurt. And besides," she added, raising an eyebrow, "even competitors need a little help every now and then."

The crowd chuckled, and Frank's forced smile faltered, though he quickly tried to regain control of the situation.

"Well, thank you, Claire," he said, though his tone was anything but grateful. "We appreciate your assistance... though I assure everyone, this is simply a minor setback. We'll have the robot functioning perfectly in no time." Claire nodded, stepping off the stage with a satisfied smirk. As she joined Matthew, who was waiting at the edge, he whispered, "That was epic."

Claire shrugged nonchalantly. "Just doing my civic duty."

Together, they made their way out of

the press room, the buzz of cameras and whispers following in their

ovel

wake. But Claire wasn't worried; she'd already made her point. Metacortex wasn't just a competitor-they were the feal innovators.

And if Frank thought he could beat her, today had been a clear reminder: he was out of his league.