Chapter 1298:


    Anti let out a disdainful scoff. “Don’t act high and mighty! We’ll see who the real designer is.”


    Following Aurielle’s signal, staff members rushed to set up the materials—paper, pencils, and tools neatly arranged under the spotlight.


    Maia and Anti sat opposite each other at the long table, every camera trained on them. There would be no room for imitation or tricks.


    Excitement rippled through the audience like wildfire. Online, hashtags about the Maia versus Anti showdown shot straight to the top of trending lists.


    Twenty minutester, the tension snapped when Anti suddenly stood up.


    “I’m finished,” she dered, her chin raised in pride. “You haven’t even started, have you?”


    The crowd gasped, disbelief echoing through the hall.


    “That fast? Is she serious?”


    “Could this really be the work of a genius?”


    “I have to see what she came up with!”


    The cameraman discreetly redirected his equipment toward Maia.


    Anticipation hung thick in the air as spectators held their collective breath, expecting Anti to retrieve herpleted work.


    A faint grin tugged at Maia’s mouth. She gave her head a gentle shake. “I’ve just finished too,” she said.


    Silence descended upon the venue without warning as every pair of eyes locked onto her.


    An aura of tranquility surrounded Maia. Her pencil came to rest on the surface before her with deliberate slowness, as though she’d merely wrapped up some routine assignment.


    Shock registered across Anti’s features. Her pupils narrowed and her mouth hung open as she stared at Maia. “Your design isplete?” The words tumbled out. Reality seemed impossible to grasp. The notion that another designer could match her pace caught Antipletely off guard.


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    Years of relentless practice had consumed her existence—endless days and sleepless nights devoted to mimicking the authentic Anti.


    Her education had been thorough beyond measure. She’d deconstructed jewelry pieces through reverse analysis, transforming them into fresh preliminary drawings.


    Annie Crystal’s entire catalog lived permanently in her brain, avable for sketching whenever necessity arose.


    The Clover Series held particr significance in her collection of preferred designs, and hundreds of variations on it had flowed from her imagination. She could draw at least a dozen designs with her eyes closed.


    Speed remained her unshakable advantage, regardless of whether her creations achieved peak quality.


    Anti’s words wavered slightly. “This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”


    No verbal answer came from Maia, only a small nod. Her gesture of cing the pencil down had alreadymunicated everything necessary.


    A dismissive sound escaped Anti’s throat as uncertainty crept through her system. This woman’s behavior struck her as peculiar. Could this be nothing more than empty posturing?


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