Hill was speaking eloquently within the holographic projection. As he imagined the accolades he was about to receive, his entire being seemed to glow with an inner confidence. However, he had no idea that in the eyes of everyone else at the Lanli Research Institute, his performance was nothing more than a clumsy imitation.
The "anonymous" post on the federal network was not entirely untraceable to the researchers of Lanli. For instance, the publication had not hidden its source database, allowing anyone to find the true origin of the research: the Lanli Research Institute itself.
Within Lanli, there was a tradition passed down through generations. Every researcher liked to mark their work with a unique "badge"—a personal imprint that served as a signature. It might be a specific snippet of code or a particular way of structuring a derivation formula.
Once they confirmed the research originated from Lanli, the researchers examined the derivation formulas published by the anonymous author. Hidden within those formulas was a little "Easter egg" that an outsider would never notice: a tiny string of code. As it happened, every researcher at Lanli knew this was a personal quirk of their Chief, Feng Zhixi.
Feng Zhixi loved hiding small codes within his derivations, and he always preferred to publish the full derivation process alongside his results.
Of course, under federal law, providing the derivation process was not a requirement for claiming a patent; it was entirely up to the researcher's discretion. In the previous timeline, "Master" Hill—the Omega hailed as the Federation’s most brilliant rising star—had only ever published final results. This had left the suspicious Feng Zhixi with no evidence to act upon.
In the vast expanse of the Federation, geniuses were many. It was possible for two people separated by thousands of miles to have similar ideas or reach similar conclusions. However, it was impossible for their derivation processes to be identical—especially when one of them had a habit of hiding unique code within the math. How could two such processes ever be a perfect match?
In his past life, Feng Zhixi never had the chance to prove the theft. Now, however, he was no longer in the mood to play games with this thief.
To ensure a better "performance," Hill had intentionally disabled his external communication channels. Consequently, he remained blissfully unaware of the research results currently causing a sensation across the entire Federation.
Having been the sole pupil favored by Master Zhou for some time, Hill had long since discarded his original caution while basking in the spotlight. He seemed to take it for granted that all of this belonged to him—the research, the admiration, the worship. He had forgotten that everything he had was a gift from the "System." Without the System’s "help," he wouldn't have even been qualified to step foot inside the Lanli Research Institute.
Benjamin watched the figure in the hologram. For some reason, the sweet and innocent Omega of his memory felt increasingly distant, leaving behind only a beautiful husk, like a hollowed-out insect. He couldn't understand why Hill had become this way. Was the Omega he had met before merely a facade? Benjamin’s heart was a bitter tangle of conflicting emotions.
While Benjamin was merely withdrawing his affection in silence, the straightforward Master Zhou was in no such mood.
The old man stared at the two sets of research, his face as dark as coal. He could tolerate many things, but academic fraud was the one thing he could not abide. Having suffered a devastating blow due to such dishonesty in his youth, the Master had spent his life loathing academic theft. And Hill had stepped directly into that taboo.
Thus, when Hill finally concluded his "perfect" performance and opened his terminal, what awaited him was not the pleasant surprise he had envisioned...
