Neville Hope narrowed his eyes, meeting Director Cox’s gaze head-on. His voice was calm, but carried weight.

"Developing is an understatement."

"Ha?" Jake blurted out before he could stop himself.

Neville Hope’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile, more like a quiet correction.

"’Improvement’ should be the right term."

"Care to elaborate more?" Deputy Director Andra leaned forward, curiosity sharpening his tone.

Neville Hope’s gaze quickly swept across the room, lingering for a brief moment when it caught another’s—Grayson Maxwell. It might’ve been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn the CEO’s silver eyes held Neville Hope’s for a heartbeat.

What was certain was the faint nod of approval CEO Grayson Maxwell gave in response to Deputy Director Andra’s question.

"Well then," Neville Hope began, composed and unhurried, "I’ll briefly brush over the surface of the AI’s framework. The detailed structure was already compiled and finalized, but I’ll spare you the technical deep dive for now."

Deputy Director Andra arched a brow, interest piqued. Meanwhile, Director Cox folded his arms, clearly waiting to see what Neville Hope was cooking.

Neville Hope proceeded to open an encrypted folder with a few swift commands. A spreadsheet and a hidden file filled with dense code appeared on the screen. He extracted a specific excerpt and dropped it neatly into the presentation.

Jake’s breath hitched, voice trembling. "What the hell is that?"

Even with years of coding behind him, Jake’s voice trembled. Those strings of data weren’t normal. And judging by the way the senior directors stiffened, they knew it too.

Neville Hope seemed to lean into the moment, savoring everyone’s reaction, half amused.

"As someone who’s been the center of a dozen rumors," he said lightly, "I take pride in learning these things in my spare time."

A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips, taking another precise jab at whomever he was addressing.

He highlighted several sections of the code. "This should be a familiar sequence to someone, or some people, in this crowd."

What was he talking about?

Then he heard a low chuckle come from Chief McCartney. "Ah, I see. So that’s how he plans to narrow down his enemies, huh? Smart move."

MJ began to look at the faces of the people around the room, trying to catch any flicker of reaction. Sure enough, a few faces paled, and the codes seemed familiar to these handful of people—all of them interestingly belonged to Director Cox’s faction.

Deputy Director Andra’s expression hardened, voice taking on a dangerous edge. "What is that, exactly?"

As if he wasn’t the one taking a jab at half the room, Neville Hope tilted his head with a show of mock innocence.

"Oh, these?" he said casually, as though revealing trade secrets were no big deal. "They’re tracking codes."

The silence that followed was almost comical. A visible ripple of shock went through some people. Several executives looked at one another, startled expressions screaming, Has this kid lost his mind?

Deputy Director Andra, however, leaned forward with interest. "How exactly does that relate to the improvement of an AI you’re proposing?"

Neville Hope’s smile deepened, his tone slipping into something more composed, more deliberate.

"Well, I would rather not disclose where I found them..." He let the suspense hang for a beat before continuing smoothly, "But utilizing these sequences, we can safely track and operate our robotics remotely, even with long-distance operations. Each signal leaves a self-locating function, allowing us to locate them on the digital Stellar Cartography of our Maxwell Corporation’s AI Mainframe—in real time."

He paused, then said with an easy, confident lilt, "I call this AI—Compass."

Director Anderson frowned. "Wasn’t that project still premature? It wasn’t even developed yet. We can’t afford to bet on yet another ’unknown future,’ Mr. Hope. There’s a limit to one’s fantasy."

Neville Hope’s smile widened into a triumphant grin.

"But it’s not an unknown future, or a fantasy, anymore," he replied lightly.

"What?" The word rippled through the room, murmured by nearly everyone in the room.

Straightening his back, Neville Hope’s eyes gleamed with victory. "Allow me to present my self-developed and patented AI program—Compass. It’s already fully operational, tested, already active and implemented across all starships and hover cars under Maxwell Corporation."

Gasps and whispers spread like wildfire.

Mick Hewitt, the second young master, was unable to stay silent any longer.

"Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, Hope? You secretly developed and patented that AI without the company’s approval—and now you’re asking us to pay for it?"

If Mick Hewitt hadn’t spoken, MJ might have forgotten he existed—but, annoyingly, he had a point. Even Chief McCartney gave a subtle nod beside him.

Neville Hope’s playful air faded. His gaze turned serious, tone cooling into something firm, articulate—the voice of someone who knew his rights.

"Initially, Compass wasn’t designed for this specific application," he said, his words deliberate, insinuating something known only by those who knew. "This AI was developed for a secretive mission. I patented it under my name after refining its system to suit this proposal."

His eyes swept across the table, unwavering. He adopted a business-like, legally precise tone.

"This cooperation is Maxwell Corporation’s business. And as an employee, my participation in this competition is my well-earned right. However, my self-developed AI program remains my intellectual property. Including it here was a choice I made because it was relevant. I’ve stated its ownership clearly in the proposal and acknowledged that the company may choose to build or use another system if preferred."

He allowed himself a small pause—then concluded, precise and unyielding, "It’s a proper distinction of intellectual property, Mr. Hewitt."

"How can you be sure that we will even make this Warp Gate?" Director Cox asked.

Sensing the change in atmosphere and realizing that pressing further would only corner his faction, Director Cox wisely steered the conversation elsewhere.

Neville Hope obviously understood what Director Cox was trying to do. His eyes narrowed briefly, a flicker of amusement crossing them before he masked it with a bright, composed smile. He had already expected this question to be asked.

He confidently said, "You might not know yet, Director Cox, but we already have everything we need to secure the deal for the Warp Gate’s construction."

Director Cox frowned. "And what exactly is that?"

Neville Hope took a step forward, his tone light but assured.

"For one, our Stellar Cartography is among the most detailed and reliable in the entire universe." He paused, letting the statement sink in. "And second—our AI Mainframe remains unmatched across the entire Imperial Galaxy."

He clasped his hands together softly, as if merging two puzzle pieces. "Now, when you combine the best data system with the most advanced AI intelligence—tell me, who could possibly outbid us once we’ve completed our starships?"

A murmur rippled through the room.

Then, with an almost theatrical grace, Neville Hope gestured toward the man seated in the middle of the higher-ups.

"Not to mention, our CEO, Grayson Maxwell, was once one of the Imperial Star’s greatest generals. Now he stands as a businessman of impeccable foresight. Frankly, I can’t think of anyone more trustworthy to lead this venture other than him."

The words could’ve been seen as flattery, even audacious. Yet Neville Hope’s delivery—steady, reverent, sincere—made it land as nothing less than that of respect. And from the faint nods around the table, it was clear the sentiment was well-received.

Director Hatfield leaned forward, seizing the opening.

"Considering the massive manpower needed for starship construction, what’s your plan afterward? You know the numbers—eventually, people will be replaced by robotics to minimize error."

Neville Hope inclined his head thoughtfully before answering.

"If the Warp Gate project hasn’t been greenlit by then, we can reassign that manpower to operate and maintain the starships."

His tone softened slightly, changing from analytical to persuasive.

"They’ll bring not just technical knowledge, but loyalty. Long-term crews strengthen our image and trustworthiness across the galaxy. That reputation alone could be what ultimately pushes the Warp Gate proposal through."

The reasoning was sound, the logic was airtight.

Just then, Chief Secretary Stewart stepped in, guiding Ethan Goelet toward the stage.

It was time.

The board members and executives would soon deliberate which proposal would win.

"As much as I like Mr. Hope’s proposal," Director Anderson began, his tone cautious, "there’s too much reliance on ’prospects.’"

Deputy Director Park Min-hae, Deputy Director of the Innovation, quickly countered, "Innovation is the backbone of progress, Director Anderson. Playing it safe might sustain us, but it won’t lead us forward."

Director Li Xiangyu, Head of the Legal Department, crossed her arms thoughtfully.

"Innovation and open-mindedness are admirable," she said, "but developing an AI this far ahead of its time... it borders on reckless. Or, to say the least, extremely aggressive."

Director Williams added simply, "As long as this proposal delivers as promised, that’s all I’m concerned with."

They deliberated for thirty tense minutes—long enough to expose where everyone’s loyalties lay.

Then, with a careless wave of his hand, Second Young Master Mick Hewitt chimed in, "Why are you all overthinking this? As long as it brings us profit, that’s all that matters."

Director Cox shot a chilling side-eye at Mick Hewitt, a look that clearly communicated: You absolute idiot. In the end, he didn’t bother to comment, only glared with visible irritation.

Amid the murmurs, CEO Grayson Maxwell’s voice cut through — calm, commanding.

"Let’s take our vote."

The room fell into order. Fingers pressed on the holographic screens in front of them, digital lights flickering one by one.

When the results appeared—it was a tie.

Neville Hope and Ethan Goelet tied in votes.

It seemed that someone hadn’t voted.

They didn’t have to wonder for long. CEO Grayson Maxwell’s gaze flicked towards MJ’s seats.

"Chief McCartney," he said, voice smooth but pointed, "your vote, please."

Being singled out by the CEO himself for failing to vote on time was clearly terrifying. Chief McCartney offered a wary, apologetic smile and nervous laugh before pressing her vote.

A soft chime followed.

"It seems we have our winner," Chief Secretary Stewart announced. "Congratulations, Mr. Neville Hope!"

Digital confetti burst into view, glowing softly in the air. Applause rose, echoing around the hall. Neville Hope nodded in acknowledgment, accepting handshakes and polite congratulations.

Ethan Goelet stepped forward, extending a hand. Neville Hope met his eyes, but he simply stared back. The tension between the two ’rivals’ spiked instantly. Whatever he saw in Neville Hope’s gaze made Ethan Goelet retreat with a polite nod.

Then came the final moment.

CEO Grayson Maxwell rose from his seat and approached the stage. In his hands was the crystalline trophy made of a rare ore and a sleek certificate where his other rewards were written on. It was the symbol of victory and recognition.

Neville Hope turned, posture straight, smile restrained.

When CEO Grayson Maxwell handed him the trophy, their fingers brushed just for a second.

It shouldn’t have meant anything.

But CEO Grayson Maxwell froze.

His silver eyes flickered as if remembering something. Then his expression became unreadable, and he startled before he turned away quickly.

His face just happened to pan to where MJ, Jake, and Chief McCartney were sitting.

MJ blinked.

Was their CEO... blushing?