The thought alone had Alice nearly squealing in delight as she chatted animatedly with her manager, her expression bright and giddy. It was almost as if she truly believed the talent and design were her own and hadpletely forgotten—or willfully ignored—the fact that she had just stolen Hera’s work and imed it as her own.


    Just as the staff called Hera to head toward the stage, Alice threw onest nce in her direction. Seeing Hera’s stormy, expressionless face only made Alice giggle with delight, as if she were savoring a personal victory.


    Hera clutched herptop tightly as she walked, her jaw clenched and her fingers digging into the edge of the device. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back the rising fury burning through her chest.


    She hadn’t expected the original female lead to be this shameless—this outright malicious. Tactics like this were usually the mark of a viiness, not the so-called heroine. But clearly, Alice had long since blurred that line.


    And now, after everything Alice had pulled, no one could fault Hera if she finally decided to retaliate.


    When Hera stepped onto the stage, a wave of surprise rippled through the crowd. Even the live chat froze for a moment—stunned into silence. Moments ago, people had been bashing her name, while many of her fans knew that she had an uing racingpetition the next day. Many believed the rumors and never imagined she’d show up at the event, let alone walk up to the stage with such calmposure.


    The entire venue fell into a hushed silence—you could hear a pin drop.


    Then Hera began. "Hello, everyone. Many of you may not know me, or may not be familiar with my face. But I go by the pen name ’Andarta Aria.’ And before I begin my official presentation, I’d like to show you the design that earned me a spot on this stage."


    With smooth precision, Hera opened herptop. She didn’t need to do much—just a few keystrokes. Sasha had already hacked into the system and overridden the big screen, preventing the organizers from immediately disying the 3D animation of hertest design.


    Why? Because if she started with the same design Alice had just presented—<strong>her</strong> stolen design—she would bebeled a giarist on the spot, with no chance to exin. The judges would cut her off before she could defend herself, and to the livestream audience, that would be the final verdict. If any of the staff or organizers were colluding with Alice—and Hera had reason to believe they might be—they wouldn’t give her the opportunity to clear her name once her work appeared.


    So, Hera chose to take an unconventional route.


    She would first show them her past work—designs that carried her unmistakable signature, her designnguage, her soul. She would make the audience see her style, her patterns, her personality—and only then would she reveal the truth. Piece by piece. Layer byyer.


    With just a few taps on herptop, Hera brought her previous award-winning design onto the big screen—the very piece that had earned her the championship title back in her home country. The audience gasped in awe. Ethereal and breathtaking, the design shimmered with a delicate brilliance that immediately captured everyone’s attention.


    Even the judges, who moments ago looked ready to interrupt her and dismiss her presentation to avoid "wasting time," fell silent the moment the design appeared. The atmosphere shifted.


    Meanwhile, Alice, still on her phone backstage, was oblivious to the change. She wore a smug smile as she chatted with her manager, her eyes never even ncing at the screen. In her mind, Hera was already finished. The design had been presented under her own name without issue. The judges had epted it. No one had questioned her.


    So why bother worrying about a giarist’s pathetic counterattack?


    After all, Alice thought, she was already ascending—brands were calling, endorsements were flooding in. Hera was just a stepping stone, and soon she’d be buried beneath her triumph. There was no suspense in the oue. To Alice, Hera wasn’t worth her attention anymore.


    But in her arrogance, she failed to see the storm brewing on the screen behind her. She didn’t notice the way the audience’s eyes widened. She didn’t hear the murmurs of recognition, or feel the momentum slowly shifting as Hera began her presentation—with calm, fire, and truth.


    The audience in the venue—and those watching the livestream—began to admire Hera’s design with growing fascination. As she started manipting the 3D model on the big screen, rotating and erging it in sections, some viewers were puzzled by her actions. They didn’t understand what she was trying to do.


    But those with discerning eyes—the designers, critics, and long-time enthusiasts—noticed something. They remained silent, watching intently, waiting for her to continue.


    Though Hera’s method seemed unconventional, no one stopped her. After all, true talent oftenes with privileges—one of them being the space to speak in one’s own way.


    And as her design unfolded inyers, refreshing everyone’s memory of the name "Andarta Aria," it became clear that beyond her youth, Hera’s talent wasn’t just legitimate—it was exceptional. The quiet murmur of respect began to ripple through the room.


    "As you can see, the theme of this jewelry set is <i>fantasy and deep sea</i>," Hera began, her voice steady but warm. "When I was very young, I loved listening to my parents and grandfather tell me fairy tales. That’s probably where my imagination first took root."