CHAPTER 75: SMALL SUCCESSES ARE ACCEPTED

The grand glass building of Brightmind Robotics towered proudly above the city skyline. Alaric stepped out of his car, greeted by two receptionists and Mr. Langston, who was already waiting for him in the lobby. The man offered a warm smile as Alaric approached.

"Alaric," Laskar Langston greeted him with a firm handshake. "He’s been expecting you. Please, let me take you to the meeting room."

Alaric gave a brief nod and matched his pace with Mr. Langston’s. As they walked through the wide, modern corridor, he took in the details of the transparent glass walls. Exposing a clear view of the production lines, employees engrossed in their work at sleek computer stations, and motivational posters that read, "Building Tomorrow, and Today."

They arrived at a large room with thick wooden doors. Mr. Langston gave a polite nod toward it.

"Please go in. Our CEO is waiting for you."

Alaric pushed the door open slowly. The room felt spacious, with a long walnut table polished to a shine, elegant black leather chairs, and the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. At the far end of the table sat a man in a dark blue suit. His presence was commanding, with sharp eyes that assessed everything in a single glance.

Beside him stood a female assistant holding a tablet, ready to record every word that would follow.

"Alaric," the man began, speaking with a noticeable accent. "Please, have a seat. I want to hear directly from you about the idea you’ve proposed."

Alaric pulled out a chair and sat upright, fingers interlaced on the table, prepared for whatever came next.

The man held his gaze, serious and direct. "I’m Leonard Whitlore," he introduced himself. "Let me ask you this, are you absolutely certain this project will work? What if your system experiences a failure like our previous product? Wouldn’t that just mean repeating the same mistakes?"

There was a brief silence. Alaric looked back at him without flinching.

"No, Mr. Whitlore. I can assure you the system I’m proposing is secure. And even if there’s a hiccup, I guarantee it won’t be anything like the issues you’ve faced before. We’ve built in multiple layers of security. There’s no chance it will collapse like that."

The assistant quickly typed down every word he said. Her fingers moving swiftly. Whitlore, meanwhile, continued studying Alaric, looking for cracks in his confidence.

Then, with a slightly more forceful tone, he pressed further.

"So tell me this... What happens if a problem occurs after the robots are already in the customers’ hands? Would they need to be returned? That alone could ruin market trust. You can’t ship a product before it’s been tested to perfection."

Alaric gave a faint smile and shook his head.

"No, sir. We’ve developed a system that allows remote programming. That means if any issues arise, our team can address them anytime, around the clock.

There’s no time restriction. Customers won’t need to send anything back. We can resolve everything directly, fast and efficiently."

Whitlore leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, still watching him closely. The room fell into another silence, heavy and tense. The only sound was the assistant’s pen clicking rapidly across her tablet.

"And you can guarantee that?"

Alaric held his gaze. Not a hint of doubt. He nodded firmly.

"I can guarantee it, Mr. Whitlore."

There was a longer pause this time. Whitlore didn’t respond immediately. He just stared, as if weighing every syllable. Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth curled into the beginnings of a smile.

"Alright," he said at last. "Your proposal is accepted."

Alaric paused, just to make sure he’d heard correctly. Then a small, proud smile appeared on his face.

Whitlore leaned forward. "When can we start production?"

Alaric answered without missing a beat, full of confidence.

"No need to wait, Mr. Whitlore. We can begin scheduling production as early as next week."

This time, Whitlore’s smile widened, clearly pleased. He rose from his chair and extended a hand.

"Looking forward to working with you, Alaric."

Alaric stood as well, returning the handshake with a firm grip. A handshake that sealed the beginning of a major partnership.

---

Alaric returned home beaming. He couldn’t hide his smile, not even during the drive. The major contract he had just secured felt like the opening of a new Chapter. One full of promise, both for his company and for himself. As the car pulled up to the driveway, he stepped out, carrying several shopping bags.

"Robin, come help me with the rest," he called to his driver, who quickly stepped out to assist.

The number of bags was surprising. Even the housekeeper, Anna, who greeted them at the front door, was taken aback.

"Alaric, this is a lot... What did you buy?" she asked, lifting one of the larger bags and peeking inside.

Alaric gave a casual smile as he made his way down the steps.

"Just food. Nothing fancy."

Anna shook her head as she juggled plastic bags filled with food containers.

"But this is way more than usual. Feels like someone’s planning a party."

Alaric chuckled but didn’t say much more. His mood was too good to be bothered.

Not long after, his mother stepped out from the sitting room, drawn by the noise. She offered a warm but curious smile.

"What’s all this, Ric? You went on a supermarket spree or something?"

He turned to her, still smiling.

"Nothing major, Mom. Just thought I’d stock up a little."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, amused.

"We just bought snacks a few days ago, didn’t we?"

Alaric scratched the back of his neck, caught.

"Yeah, true. Anyway, just take these to the kitchen."

Anna and Robin nodded, busy carrying the groceries inside. The scent of fresh food began to drift through the hall. There were warm rolls, frozen soups ready to reheat, and beautifully packaged desserts.

Among it all, Alaric had set aside one special box. It came from a high end restaurant. Not just any takeout, but a carefully selected meal suited for someone recovering from illness.

Inside were low sodium chicken soup, healthy pudding, and fresh cut fruit. He even added a few healthy snacks like granola bars and whole wheat biscuits. It was all meant for Siera.

Even though he still harbored doubts about her, he couldn’t bring himself to treat her as if she were guilty. After all, she had helped save his life the day before.

But later, if it turns out that the girl did it... her attitude might change at any moment, because Alaric would surely feel that the girl was betraying him, or—playing with him which he could not accept.

"Not until I know the truth... I can’t jump to conclusions," he muttered to himself, staring at the small box of food.

He called out to Robin.

"Take this to the hospital, Rob. Give it to Siera. Tell her it’s from me."

Robin nodded right away.

"Yes, Young Boss." He headed back out with the package in hand.

---

When he arrived at the hospital, Robin found himself a little lost. He walked through the bustling corridor, weaving between nurses and visitors, holding a slip of paper with a room number scribbled on it.

"Room... 132? No, wait... 123? Ugh, which one is it?" He scratched his head in frustration. "If I take too long, Boss is going to chew me out again."

He wandered down the wrong hallway more than once before finally spotting the correct room number. Letting out a sigh of relief, he muttered, "Finally. Found it."

He knocked on the door, but before entering, he caught voices coming from inside. Siera was speaking to another man, Damian. Though Robin didn’t recognize the voice, he paused, listening from a respectful distance.

"What’s going on with you?" Damian’s tone was slightly annoyed. "You said he’d take my place watching over you."

Siera’s voice was soft, but Robin could still make out her words.

"How was I supposed to know? I thought that’s what he was going to do... that’s why I asked you to leave first."

Robin frowned, confused. "What are they talking about? Eh... not my business." He knocked again, louder this time.

Once the door opened, he bowed politely.

"Miss Siera, this is from the Young Boss, Alaric. Wishing you a speedy recovery."

Siera turned to look at him, visibly surprised, though she quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"Just put it on the table," she said, pointing to the side table next to her bed. Then she asked, her tone sounding more like a complaint,

"Why didn’t Alaric bring it himself?"

Robin hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"He’s... busy at the moment, Miss."

Siera let out a quiet sigh, then nodded slightly.

"Alright. You can go."

Robin placed the food box on the table and made a swift exit. As he closed the door behind him, he muttered to himself in relief,

"Whew. Glad that’s done. At least I found the right room this time."