Mirabe lounged in her chair, utterly unfazed by Calvin''s words, not even bothering to lift an eyelid.


    Seeing Mirabe''s nonchnt demeanor nearly brought augh out of Calvin.


    He had forgotten that she was a student impervious to advice, not recognizing good intentions, and not worth the effort of a gentle reminder.


    Calvin coolly withdrew his gaze, choosing not to look at Mirabe any longer.


    The break room fell into a heavy silence. Zane cast a nce at Mirabe and then at Calvin, choosing not to speak.


    Previously, he might have yed peacemaker, fearing that Mr. Calvin would hold a grudge and make things difficult for students in the future. But now... any bridges that could be burned had already been torched, so it didn''t matter.


    However, Zane still harbored some concerns about the uing meeting with the DO Group executive. He could handle it, but he wasn''t so sure about Mirabe.


    After all, future prospects always outweigh everything else.


    Contrastingly, Mirabe simply took out her phone to check.


    **


    Hank personally waited in the parking lot to greet the executive from DO Group.


    Right at ten o''clock, a sleek ck sedan pulled into the tech institute.


    As soon as the car stopped, Hank approached. A tall foreigner in a dark suit, adorned with a DO Group emblem pin on his chest, stepped out from the driver''s side.


    The man then walked around to the rear passenger side, opening the door with respectful deference, waiting for his superior to emerge.


    Hank''s expression grew more solemn at the sight. He recognized the foreigner, having dealt with him in several business transactions before, a high-ranking official within DO Group.


    The respectful demeanor of the foreigner hinted at the importance of the person still in the car.


    No wonder their dinner invitation was refused the day before.


    As Hank pondered, the man inside the car finally stepped out.


    He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, strikingly handsome, wearing an unbuttoned ck suit jacket over a brightly patterned dress shirt, and a silver bracelet shimmering on his wrist.


    The man exuded more the vibe of a fashion week model than an IT worker.


    Hank contained his surprise, not at


    the man''s appearance, but at his young age. He stepped forward calmly, extending a hand, "Hello, I''m Hank, the project lead for this venture. Wee to our institute.”


    The young man nodded slightly, his slender fingers briefly touching Hank''s hand before withdrawing.


    Hank, undisturbed by the brief contact, gestured politely, "Shall we go inside to talk?"


    The young man hummed in agreement, walking alongside Hank.


    Soon, they arrived at the lounge, where Hank asked an assistant to prepare some coffee. He then smiled and asked, "May I know how to address you, sir?"


    A subordinate of J nced at him, answering in fluent English, "Mr. Monks."


    Hank nodded, the surname Monks was quite umon.


    J''s assistant had already taken aptop out of his bag, wasting no time in projecting the simted system content onto the screen in front, beginning to discuss the


    project details with Hank.


    Meanwhile, J sat quietly at the conference table, his fingertips idly tapping on the


    surface, his mind preupied with one question.


    Where had he crossed that guy?


    He had been pondering sincest night, even instructing his subordinates to


    review recent events, but nothing unusual had surfaced.


    This cold shoulder was utterly baffling to him.