Chapter 485
Chapter 485:
He set his empty glass down hard on the nearest table, turned, and walked quickly toward the judges’ corridor. He had to stop whatever Belle was planning.
The second half of the ISSDC finals commenced in the main hall.
The theme for this round was “Social Architecture for Interstellar Migration.” Teams were required to integrate external expert models into their base designs to demonstrate collaborative viability.
Belle rose from the InnoTech pit, holding a wireless microphone and projecting an aura of supreme confidence.
“To ensure the absolute perfection of InnoTech’s societal framework,” Belle announced, her voice ringing through the speakers, “we did not rely solely on our internal team. We reached out to a legend. We consulted the architect known as Sophia p>
The entire hall erupted in shocked gasps.
Sophia. The phantom engineer who had revolutionized the industry and vanished five years ago.
In the Carson Dynamics pit, Isolde was raising a water bottle to her lips. She choked slightly, coughing into her hand to conceal a sudden burst of incredulous laughter.
At the VIP table, Cyrus Sterling slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he fought to suppress a grin.
Belle paced the floor, drinking in the awe of the crowd.
J𝗼𝘪𝗇 𝘵𝘩𝗈𝗎𝗌an𝗱ѕ 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝘢ո𝘀 𝗈ո
“While Sophia could not be here in person,” Belle continued smoothly, “she personally guided our core architecture via encrypted email correspondence p>
The massive screen behind her lit up, displaying a screenshot of an email. The text was highly technical, lavishing praise on InnoTech’s design. At the bottom, it was signed: Sophia.
Chase leapt to his feet and began clapping loudly. “That’s right! Sophia recognized Ms. Escobar’s brilliance! We have her official endorsement p>
Isolde set her water bottle down. Her eyes narrowed into sharp, calculating slits.
They actually dared to forge my identity.
At the judges’ table, Professor Nelson leaned forward, his expression deeply skeptical.
“Ms. Escobar,” Nelson said, his voice amplified by his desk microphone, “as far as the industry is aware, Sophia retired completely five years ago. Can you verify the cryptographic authenticity of this email p>
Belle did not miss a beat. She smiled with perfect composure.
“Of course, Professor,” she said. “The email contains her proprietary encrypted signature block.” She gestured to a string of alphanumeric characters at the bottom of the screen — a fake hash Chase had generated an hour earlier.
Isolde raised her hand.
“I have a question,” she called out.
The cameras pivoted to her instantly. She stood, smoothing the front of her suit jacket.
“Ms. Escobar,” Isolde said, her voice calm and conversational, “since you have been in direct contact with Sophia, you must be intimately familiar with her coding habits. Tell me — what is her absolute least favorite font p>
Belle blinked. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
“Excuse me?” she scoffed. “Font? That is completely irrelevant to the engineering data p>
“It is highly relevant,” Isolde countered. “Because anyone who has ever actually worked with Sophia knows she has severe OCD regarding typography. She writes every single line of code — and every email — exclusively in Consolas p>
Isolde pointed toward the massive screen.