Unexpected Physical Attack

Alaric looked at Jared.

His gaze was clear, as if he were observing his opponent's mindset—not just listening to his words. He understood that the question wasn't purely logical. It was a tactic, a calculated strike. He could sense it in the unnaturally steady tone, and in the careful, deliberate manner it was delivered.

But Alaric wasn't shaken.

He picked up the marker again and returned to the board.

"That's a very interesting question, Jared. But allow me to offer a different angle."

Alaric drew two parallel paths, one straight and level, the other sloping upward with a symbol indicating global cloud access.

"We all know cloud-based systems are the future. But are all students... and all schools... already on that path? No. In fact, millions of children in developing countries don't even have reliable internet. Not every teacher owns a personal laptop."

He looked around at the audience.

"So the real question is, do we wait until everyone's ready... or do we build the foundation first?"

A few people began to nod.

"My educational chip isn't a replacement for the cloud. It's a bridge. A small but sturdy bridge to help those left behind reach the same starting gate."

He turned back to Jared.

"And about isolation... We're not locking the system. We're building integration. Every student using this chip can still transfer their data to the cloud when connectivity is available. The UI/UX design is flexible. Even with just one weekly Wi-Fi signal from a village office, data can be pulled and uploaded to the national server."

He sketched a small Wi-Fi icon with an upward arrow.

"So no, this isn't a digital prison, Jared. It's a delivery train."

Soft applause echoed through the room.

A female panelist from a major education CSR initiative looked at Alaric with admiration. "That was a very spot-on response."

Meanwhile, Jared remained standing. His face didn't change much... except for a faint flush on his left cheek. He gave a stiff nod.

"Alright... thank you for the clarification."

But the stage presence in his voice had vanished. He returned to his seat slowly. No smile left on his face.

The moderator stepped forward. "I believe that concludes the Q\&A. We'll now move on to the final evaluation session."

A few people gathered. The panelists spoke quietly. And about twenty minutes later…

The moderator stood again.

"Considering the completeness of the idea, its implementation readiness, and its realistic yet progressive social impact… we are proud to announce that Mr. Alaric Greg's proposal has been fully accepted for execution."

Applause filled the room.

Alaric exhaled. He remained calm, offering a slight smile and nodding respectfully toward the evaluation board. From the corner of the room... Jared sat with his head down, tapping the table slowly with his fingertip.

He had lost.

Not because Alaric defeated him…

But because Alaric didn't have to bring him down to win. Instead, he rose higher with the very stone Jared had thrown.

And in the corner of Alaric's netra display, visible only to him—a small notification appeared:

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[Interruption Detected – Public Undermining Strategy Failed]

[Credibility Boost: +8%]

[System Reward: Verbal Shield – Enhances clarity during attacks in forums or discussions]

Alaric gave a faint smile.

Game on.

Alaric's footsteps echoed steadily as he exited the top-floor meeting room. The elevator doors slid open slowly, welcoming his slightly exhausted yet victorious frame. The soft rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the tall glass windows of the skyscraper, refracting across the marble floor and lighting up his face.

His project was accepted. But that wasn't what dominated his thoughts now. There was a strange feeling... as if he was being watched. But maybe it was just fatigue.

He descended a few steps into the main lobby, briefly nodding to the receptionist, who gave him a polite smile. A few other employees who knew him waved or smiled as well. He returned the gestures, though slightly more reserved than usual.

His hand reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his car remote.

Click.

The soft clunk of the automatic lock echoed from across the parking lot. His sleek black car signaled its readiness.

Alaric walked toward it, his pace slow. He even adjusted his blazer, smoothing out the collar that had been ruffled by the breeze. One hand reached out for the car door handle—

THUD!

A dark blur suddenly shot out from beside the vehicle!

A hand grabbed his collar while a fist slammed into his jaw.

Thump!

Alaric staggered back half a step, eyes wide. He braced himself, but another punch landed square in his ribs. He stumbled and leaned against the car.

"Bastard!" hissed the attacker—a man in a cap, face half-covered with a black mask. His body was solid, his movements fast—like someone well-trained in combat.

Alaric tried to fight back. He swung a punch at the man's jaw, landing it hard enough to make the attacker step back. But retaliation came instantly. An elbow strike hit Alaric's shoulder, nearly sending him to the ground.

His body wasn't ready to move faster than this attacker.

And he hadn't anticipated this. Not in the slightest.

His head pulsed, his body trying to assess the situation. This wasn't a random mugging. The attacker was too focused, too... efficient. This was no coincidence.

In a flash of controlled panic, Alaric reached into his jacket. That's when he felt it.

A pulse.

A warm throb like a heartbeat, hidden beneath the fabric. It came from the small object gifted to him by the system days ago, without any need for redemption.

Virella.

The tiny brooch shaped like a futuristic diamond eye pulsed faster. Emergency protocols were likely activating.

He heard the voice. Not from outside, but within his mind. A familiar female digital tone.

"Threat level two detected: initiating protection protocol in three seconds..."

"Preparing release."

The attacker closed in again, faster than before. This time, he drew something from his jacket. It wasn't a gun, but a telescopic baton that extended with a sharp snap.

Click!

His eyes locked on Alaric's throat.

But Alaric still had survival instincts. Despite the pain, he raised his right arm to block the swing, only partially absorbing it.

His arm was grazed, but it bought him a second to retreat.

In his pocket, the pulsing peaked like a living machine.

Alaric clenched his jaw. He knew Virella would activate in seconds. But deploying it too soon could risk losing it or worse, having it stolen. He had to wait for the right moment.

"Why are you attacking me?!" he shouted, more to stall than to seek answers.

The man didn't reply. He crouched slightly, ready to lunge again.

Blood still rushed through Alaric's veins. His breathing was heavy. He leaned slightly back, struggling to stay upright after the hits to his face and gut.

But he never took his eyes off the man. This wasn't some random thug. The way he moved—deliberate and brutal. This was someone with a mission.

Then, with one sharp breath...

Virella's pulsing stopped.

And the brooch... began to unfold.

Now Alaric had one advantage: timing.

The small brooch in his pocket activated. Metallic petals opened slowly like a mechanical flower blooming under threat.

A soft blue light glowed from its core, forming intricate crystalline patterns across its surface.

But Alaric didn't use it yet. He knew timing was everything. If he revealed it too early, he might lose everything. Virella was too valuable to fall into the wrong hands.

So he slumped slightly, feigning weakness as he edged backward until his back pressed against the front of his car.

The attacker stepped forward.

His grip tightened around the baton, his eyes dark and intense. Piercing through Alaric like blades. The man's breathing was heavy with rage. Hatred.

"You're a nuisance," he growled.

"You think just because of your little talents, you can stay on top forever? Stay untouchable?"

He stepped closer. Alaric could smell sweat and metal on the man's clothes.

"You're just a brat. A cocky brat who rose too fast... and now—"

That was the moment.

In a split second, as the man glared, Virella fully unfolded into its true form a sleek, curved energy blade, grown from the brooch's core.

SWISH!

Alaric swung it fast, slicing the air and cutting into the man's arm.

The attacker stumbled back, fresh blood streaming down from the wound. The blade was too quick to dodge, too light to suspect its power, too... precise.

"Damn it," the man cursed.

Alaric wasted no time. He drove his knee upward, twisted his torso, and kicked the man square in the chest with his heel. The force sent him sprawling backward, crashing onto the asphalt. His baton clattered away, rolling beneath a nearby car.

Alaric narrowed his eyes, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. His body burned with adrenaline.

The man hissed like a snake, trying to get back up.

But this time, they clashed head-on.

Alaric's fist landed on the man's jaw. It connected, but not hard enough. The man countered with an elbow strike to Alaric's shoulder. Both reeled, then lunged again like wild animals in a tight ring