Chapter 2
477words
Under this crushing pressure, fear was instinctive. But I transformed it into another weapon—desperate courage.
I couldn't answer his question. Time to change the rules of the game.
I took a deep breath, as if steeling myself for something momentous. Then, under his icy gaze, I slowly—almost clumsily—pulled my tablet from my canvas bag.
The screen's glow cut through the crimson darkness like a floating shard of ice.
"Mr. Blackwood," my voice steady now, carrying the all-in, obsessive focus of a tech geek, "I think you're more concerned with the fatal vulnerability that's going to hit your 'Cerberus' AI project within seventy-two hours than who I am."
His eyebrows remained still, but his gaze shifted.
That piercing focus moved from my face to my screen.
It worked.
I immediately pulled up my prepared report. Complex code streams, highlighted warning parameters, and simulated crash path diagrams cascaded down the screen like a digital waterfall. I didn't give him time to think, launching into my briefing with rapid-fire precision.
"…The redundancy protocol in your firewall has logical flaws. Under sustained high-intensity attacks, the AI's decision core would be contaminated. This isn't some minor glitch—it's a system-level avalanche. It'll tear everything apart from within."
I didn't look up, but I felt the weight of his gaze—hungry, focused scrutiny. Every piece of data, every inference I'd carefully prepared was a bullet aimed straight at the bullseye of his expertise.
I finished speaking.
The elevator fell silent again, but this time, the atmosphere had shifted. The calm before the storm.
I'd gambled everything. My talent, my courage, and my precise judgment of a man like him—someone who craves absolute control over the kingdom he's built.
He would bite. Because I was right.
Suddenly, a faint mechanical sound broke the silence.
The ceiling light flickered, then returned to its bright white glow. The car rose slightly and stopped with perfect smoothness. With a soft ding, the doors slid open, revealing the brightly lit hallway beyond.
I didn't move. Didn't even glance at the door that promised escape. I just stared at him, waiting for my verdict.
He stared at me for several long seconds, his eyes like bottomless cold ponds.
Then, instead of walking out, he gave me an order.
"Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. My office."
Only then did he turn and walk out with measured steps.
I watched his silhouette vanish down the corridor as the doors slowly closed. Alone in that confined space, I finally let myself collapse against the cold wall.
A shiver of victory raced up my spine. I looked down at my pale fingers, and then—slowly, very slowly—began to smile.
I had succeeded.
No longer an intruder. No longer a suspect. I'd become a "valuable asset" in his eyes.
The prey had willingly invited the predator into its nest.
