David lifted his gaze, observing the few who had chosen to abstain from voting at the conference table, and after a moment of thought, he suggested, "Let''s have the six who haven''t voted yet cast their votes again."


    "Isn''t that a bit informal?" The Deputy Chair of themittee was somewhat opposed to the idea, subtly replying, "They''ve already chosen to abstain."


    Votes had been cast, and abstentions made. Continuing the meeting would only make the association aughingstock in the industry.


    Regardless of whether a president was elected today, due to Presley, it would be a joke.


    David opened his mouth to say something when a cold voice came from the entrance of the hall, "Choosing a president is a significant matter. It seems a bit off for me, as the vice president, not to participate in the voting."


    Hearing this voice, the Deputy Chair and others present instinctively looked towards the door.


    Mirabe, dressed in a sleek ck coat, walked in leisurely, her delicate face carrying an air of nonchnce. She approached David and nodded slightly, "David."


    David hadn''t expected Mirabe toe, and he smiled, "Mirabe, you''re here." Wyatt, standing nearby, also greeted Mirabe with a respectful nod.


    Mirabe hummed softly in acknowledgment, then turned to the Deputy Chair who was presiding over the meeting, "I''m not toote, am I?"


    The Deputy Chair, recalling thest pharmaceutical association examination where this woman had made an appearance, knew she was brought in by David as a nominal vice president with exceptional skills in potion making.


    He wondered what she intended by appearing now.


    After a pause, the Deputy Chair politely replied, "Not... toote."


    Mirabe nodded, not bothering to inquire about the current voting situation, and simply asked, "Am I eligible to vote?"


    The Deputy Chair was taken aback, nced at the others present, and realizing it would be inappropriate to deny her in front of everyone, especially since she was technically a vice president of the association, he nodded and answered, "Yes."


    "Alright then." Mirabe took a piece of paper and a pen nearby, wrote down a


    name, and handed it to the Deputy Chair, "I vote for him."


    The Deputy Chair looked down at


    the name on the paper and immediately shook his head, "You''re voting for Devon? He''s not on the list of presidential candidates, he''s not eligible."


    Devon, hearing Mirabe had chosen him, was surprised and looked towards her, about to say something when David nudged his arm, giving him a look that said to keep quiet.


    Devon: "..."


    "Isn''t Devon''spetence evident to everyone?" Mirabe lightly tapped the


    table, speaking in a calm and measured tone.


    "Devon is talented, but his temperament isn''t suited for presidency," the Deputy Chair spoke the truth. While Devon was indeed a standout in potion making within the association, hecked the qualities needed for the presidency


    "Exceptional individuals are exceptional in all aspects. Who starts off with a presidential temperament? Don''t you agree?" Mirabe said with a half-smile.


    At this, Wyatt couldn''t help but nce at Mirabe, seriously suspecting that Ms. Mirabe was seizing the opportunity to praise herself.


    The Deputy Chair looked at Mirabe, momentarily at a loss for words against her twisted logic.


    Mirabe raised an eyebrow, then turned to the others present, suggesting, "Why not leave the decision to everyone? Let''s see what the majority thinks?"