Days passed, and Neville slipped into his usual routine—or at least that was how it appeared to be. He moved through tasks on autopilot, his mind elsewhere, replaying that one moment again and again.

The day the results came out.

Just like Iris had said, Bryan wouldn’t have blurted out the news unless Neville had made it to the final list. Still, nothing could’ve prepared him for how far he had made it. He stared at the screen, blinking, reading and rereading until the words finally sank in.

TOP 10 PROPOSALS

Black Ocean Project — Neville H.

Warp Route Optimization

Project Budget Plan

Starlight Project — Ethan G.

Material Acquisition Plan

Project Budget Plan

First place.

He had actually gotten first place.

For someone who had never even brushed the edge of any kind of rankings back on Earth, the realization had hit him like a dream—a quiet, almost fragile joy. He should’ve been celebrating, but then his gaze drifted down.

And there it was—Ethan’s name.

Of course. It was obvious to everyone that Ethan would place high—first or second best. But just the thought of him still existing somewhere within the company walls, breathing the same recycled air, kept Neville uneasy.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen him around lately.

"Looking for someone?" Iris’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Since the second young master’s office had been taken down, Neville had gone back to his original workstation. It made it easier to talk with Iris, gossiping discreetly.

"I saw Goelet’s name on the list," Neville said, keeping his tone casual. "I haven’t seen him around to congratulate him."

Iris raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Haven’t you heard? He was transferred to the logistics department weeks ago."

Before Neville could reply, Sarah appeared beside them, sliding a few files across his desk with suspicious timing.

"Rumor has it," she murmured, dropping her voice to a dramatic stage whisper, "someone above pulled strings for him. They said it was a special project, so they’re all hush-hush about it."

Neville frowned slightly. Transferred?

For someone powerful to protect Ethan despite his suspicious actions—the person behind him wasn’t just supporting him; they were shielding him. That made the puppet master far more dangerous than the puppet—moving quietly, but decisively.

"Did the CEO say anything about it?" Neville asked. He doubted Grayson would let this slide. If anything, the man was probably just waiting for one last piece of evidence to bring both Ethan and his backer down behind bars for good.

Iris shrugged, already turning back to her work, dismissing the topic. "Don’t worry too much. Our CEO always has his own means."

Right. Ethan was like a cockroach that couldn’t be burned and was still lurking around everywhere.

And as if that wasn’t enough, there was also Mick. The inevitable headache, Mick, who was scheduled to attend the strategy meeting later.

Neville clenched his teeth.

As much as he dreaded meeting him, there was no way to avoid it. He could only prepare himself. He heard the only reason Mick was allowed anywhere near this high-level project was due to the ongoing power struggle inside the HW corporation.

It was true that Neville was already the chosen representative for this collaboration project. On paper, that should’ve been the end of it. Yet, Mick’s faction was attempting to override the Eldest Young Master’s authority through sheer, obnoxious volume.

Neville still couldn’t fathom how the Eldest Young Master had allowed himself to become so incompetent as to let this happen. Grayson must’ve been having a few headaches over the whole mess.

Speaking of Grayson—

He had seen him a few times recently, but the man was as elusive as ever. Always there, always watching. His odd habit of staring from a distance was still there. And yet the moment Neville turned to meet his gaze, Grayson would be gone. He would slip through a corner, entering his non-exclusive anti-grav lift or simply vanishing into the crowd. In the most inevitable cases, he would turn his face to the side, not wanting their eyes to meet.

If he was acting like that, how am I supposed to raise his favorability at all?

BUMP!

"Sor—"

Lost in his resentful thoughts, Neville walked straight into someone—and froze.

That face.

That unfairly handsome face.

Grayson.

Neville quickly took a step back, putting a professional and cautious distance between them. "I apologize, sir."

He kept his head down, unable to gauge Grayson’s current mood, yet the silence stretched long enough to be awkward.

Did he even hear me?

When Neville cautiously raised his head a fraction, he saw that Grayson wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring to the side, seemingly absorbed in something there.

What the hell? Can’t you say anything? Neville thought, irritation mounting.

As if reading his mind, Grayson finally glanced down, eyes cool and unreadable. He seemed to have just realized what had just happened.

"It’s nothing," Grayson said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "You can go now."

Neville blinked, thrown by the nonchalance.

...Seriously? That’s it?

Neville gave a tight nod, a little fidgety. He had barely taken a few steps before it hit him —

Wait. He still hadn’t asked about what happened back at the hotel.

He turned around.

And there—his eyes met Grayson’s.

[Favorability +1%]

"...Huh?"

What was going on?

Before Neville could process the message or even speak, Grayson coolly turned and walked away with wide, decisive strides. He did not even glance back and left Neville frozen in place, staring blankly at the invisible holographic notification floating in front of him.

Has his favorability just... gone up?

From that?

Did Grayson like it ... when he left? Or—

Oh no.

A dreaded, humiliating realization dawned on him.

Did this mean Grayson preferred to maintain a certain distance from him?

Was he... that appalling?

Was he that unpleasant to be around?

A frantic wave of self-doubt washed over him.

Was it his pheromones? Did he smell really bad?

No, that couldn’t be right... could it?

Alphas didn’t like other alphas’ scent, sure—but he was an omega. His system regulated his emissions, so he shouldn’t be releasing much anyway. He had caught faint traces before; it wasn’t that bad, right? At the very least, he didn’t think so.

Unless—

Oh gods. Was it that when it was too concentrated, the smell became awful?

What if Grayson had caught a whiff earlier and thought, "Ugh, what is that?"

Neville winced.

Was that the real reason Grayson had to physically turn away like that in front of him?

He quickly shook his head, pushing that desperate thought aside.

But then again... if Grayson actually liked his scent, wouldn’t he have stayed? Or at least had someone explain to him what had happened.

No. It looks like the relationship route was completely off the table.

Shelly must have been spouting utter bullshit. ’High compatibility’, his ass—it clearly didn’t mean that they would like each other’s pheromones.

Now, even if the favorability didn’t increase for a long time, he was relieved. He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—use drastic, pheromone-based means to raise it.

Which was good. He wouldn’t do that to Grayson anyway. Especially not something non-consensual.

Now, he only needed to focus on other, respectable methods to raise Grayson’s favorability—and keep his own pheromones tightly sealed to prevent any further accidental offense.

Yeah. That sounded much better.

With his thoughts sorted, Neville straightened his shoulders and continued down the hall, steps lighter than before—like a man who had, at last, shed away his worries.