The Hamilton Luxury Cruise's main deck glittered with exclusivity as society's elite examined displays of next-generation luxury innovations. Michael, masked as the Black Investor, moved through the crowd with Sophia by his side, aware of the whispers and sideways glances that followed them."Your entrance certainly made an impression," Sophia remarked, accepting champagne from a passing server. "Hulio's face when I intervened was quite satisfying.""Strategic alliances have their benefits," Michael replied, echoing her earlier words.The showcase area featured a central platform where Hulio now stood proudly beside a sleek sports car prototype, its metallic surface gleaming under specialized lighting."The Hamilton Velocity," Hulio announced grandly, "represents the pinnacle of automotive engineering. Zero to sixty in 2.3 seconds, with revolutionary carbon-ceramic brake technology and a patented aerodynamic profile that reduces drag by seventeen percent compared to competing models."

The System message appeared just as Michael was reviewing the final prototype designs for the first generation of Buzzer phones:[New task assigned: Attend Millennium Business Forum. Save Claire Thornton from public humiliation. Reward: Enhanced Strategic Thinking.]Michael paused, the name immediately triggering recognition. Claire Thornton heiress to Thornton Enterprises, the chief rival to Wagner Industries in the luxury hospitality and commercial real estate sectors. In his previous timeline, the Thornton and Crawford families had maintained a carefully polite public rivalry while privately engaging in ruthless competition.What caught Michael's attention wasn't just the task itself but the timing. The Millennium Business Forum was the premier gathering of the city's corporate elite, scheduled annually at the Grand Millennium Hotel. Crawford Enterprises always maintained a significant presence—but why would the System direct him to help a Thornton?"Something int

The MePhone launch event filled the massive conference center with an electric buzz. Giant screens flashed the sleek Buzzer Tech logo while blue lighting bathed the audience in an otherworldly glow. Journalists from every tech blog and magazine on the planet packed the front rows, their faces lit by laptop screens as they frantically typed notes.Michael watched from a hidden backstage area, his heart pounding against his ribs. He'd waited for this moment through two lifetimes."Holy shit," Michael whispered as he peeked through the curtain. "There's at least five hundred people out there."Megan nodded beside him, her face pale with nervous energy. "And another million watching the livestream. We've crashed three servers already.""Are you nervous?" Michael asked, noticing her fidgeting hands."Terrified," she admitted. "But also weirdly excited. Like I might throw up or start dancing. Maybe both at the same time."Michael laughed. "Just not on stage, please

Michael's temporary office in the financial division buzzed with urgent activity. He'd deliberately relocated here away from the executive floor's watchful eyes and whispered accusations to work directly with Sandra Williams and her team of analysts."These transfer authorizations don't add up," Sandra said, spreading printouts across the conference table. Her glasses slid down her nose as she leaned forward, jabbing her finger at a sequence of numbers. "The timestamps are inconsistent."Michael leaned in, studying the documents. "How so?""Digital signatures include encrypted timestamp data," Sandra explained, switching to her laptop to display the technical details. "When you sign a document electronically, the system records not just your authentication but precisely when it happened."She highlighted a section of code. "These signatures show your authorization at 3:42 PM on the dates in question, but the document metadata shows modifications continuing until 4:17

The café buzzed with midday energy. Sunlight streamed through large windows, casting warm patches on the wooden tables where Michael sat with his Buzzer Tech team. For once, they weren't huddled over schematics or financial reports. Just friends sharing lunch, almost like normal people."You're kidding," Megan said, nearly choking on her cappuccino. "Your dad is turning seventy? He doesn't look a day over sixty.""Crawford genes," Michael replied, picking at his sandwich. "Though I suspect expensive Swiss treatments help too."Olivia scrolled through her phone, eyebrows raised. "Says here Richard Crawford's birthday is normally a major social event. Last year's celebration made headlines when he donated ten million to children's hospitals instead of accepting gifts.""That was different," Michael said. "Public celebration, hundreds of guests, media coverage. This year he wants something private. Family only."Rebecca stirred her tea thoughtfully. "And you're actu