I refused to accept the outcome. Fueled by frustration and disbelief, I dismissed my colleagues and locked myself in the laboratory for another grueling week, determined to push the research and development process forward once more. Day and night blurred as I immersed myself in the data, calculations, and simulations, clinging to the hope that I could regain the team’s trust through undeniable results.

But when I finally emerged from the lab, exhausted yet hopeful, I was met with yet another crushing blow—Luther had already published the new data I had spent the past week refining. Once again, he had beaten me to the punch.

My colleagues saw this and quickly drew their own conclusions. Whispers spread like wildfire—people believed I was only hungry for fame, exploiting my position as team leader to steal the achievements of my subordinates. To them, I was a fraud cloaked in authority, using my family’s influence to take credit for others’ hard work.

The injustice boiled in my veins. Fueled by anger and desperation, I worked overtime, barely resting, pouring every ounce of effort into developing an intelligent robot chip. This chip wasn’t just functional—it was revolutionary. It could assist the elderly with daily tasks, accompany them to medical appointments, and perform household chores with uncanny precision. It was 90% close to human capability, a breakthrough that could reshape the industry.

But just as I was preparing to unveil it, Luther held a press conference. With an expression of feigned sorrow, he claimed that he had no choice but to go public ahead of time—otherwise, he said, I would have stolen his results.

He spoke with emotional conviction, saying I had repeatedly asked for his data and hinted at taking his work. He then painted himself as a misunderstood genius who needed only half a day of inspiration to accomplish what others couldn’t in weeks.

The public was enraged. Accusations rained down like arrows, branding me an academic fraud, a disgrace to the scientific community. Netizens took it a step further, accusing my parents of sponsoring the R&D project solely to reap the rewards. Our family’s smart home tech company was immediately thrust into the spotlight—for all the wrong reasons.

Social media exploded:

“Crack down on fake companies! Clean up the scientific community!”

“Purge parasites in technology and give science a clean sky!”

Luther walked away unscathed, hailed as the rightful patent holder and the shining star of intelligent R&D. Companies lined up to partner with him, eager to manufacture intelligent robots born from my work.

In desperation, my parents scoured evidence to clear my name. But fate dealt its cruelest hand: on the way to submit the findings, they were struck by a speeding, out-of-control truck. We were all inside.

We didn’t survive. Our bodies were crushed beyond recognition.

Yet somehow, fate gave me another chance.

I was reborn—returned to the very moment before it all began.

This time, I swore, I would uncover the truth and expose lies. Luther would not succeed again.

Back in the lab, I heard my colleagues muttering excitedly yet skeptically.

“Luther is truly a genius? He really developed this himself?”

“Our team leader worked for a whole week, and he did it in just half a day? That last section of the data is uncanny…”

My girlfriend and assistant snatched the R&D documents from my hands, glanced at them, and immediately showered Luther with praise.

“Luther, you’re incredible. I always knew you had talent for these things, but to complete such complex data in just half a day? That’s beyond impressive!”

The surrounding staff erupted in chatter. Their eyes widened in astonishment. Those who were once skeptical began to look at me with doubt and suspicion.

Their whispers stung:

“Why are we even working overtime to verify anything? Luther’s results already match what we were aiming for.”

“Let’s be honest, didn’t he already peek at the data? Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out now.”

The looks they gave me were laced with meaning, and my heart turned cold.

In my past life, they believed him without question. They began disregarding my instructions, ignoring my deadlines. Instead, they followed Luther out to parties, dinners, and late-night hangouts.

He had boasted then too—“I just need a flash of inspiration. Give me two hours, and I’ll write you a whole new dataset. Guaranteed.”

This time, I swallowed my anger. I wouldn't argue. I wouldn't fight publicly.

Instead, I was going to do things differently. This time, I’d keep my cards close, my data tighter, and my trust minimal.

As the research entered its second phase, I allowed no one into the lab except one person—my most trusted friend and assistant: Jason Miller.

The fight wasn’t over. It had only just begun.

In my previous life, after I died, there was only one person who stood up for me—Jason. He went everywhere defending me, telling others I had been wronged. While everyone else either remained silent or jumped to conclusions, he alone spoke the truth.

Now, back in this life, I watched Luther continue to play his role perfectly, wearing the mask of concern and sincerity. He turned to me, eyes full of feigned innocence.

“Team Leader Cole, what do you mean by this? Are you suggesting we stole your data?”

His voice was calm, but underneath, I could hear the veiled threat, the implication that I was the irrational one.

Immediately, the rest of the team turned to me, their expressions twisted in anger and contempt.

“Team Leader Cole, you clearly don't have the capability to match Junior Grant’s data. And now you’re slandering us? How can you accuse us of stealing for him?” someone said sharply.

I didn’t respond. I simply changed my clothes in silence and locked the laboratory doors. My face was expressionless, but inside, I was burning.

I knew without a doubt that the data had been leaked, or worse, that Luther had somehow obtained it using underhanded means. Otherwise, there was no way he could repeatedly present the exact results I had worked so hard to develop.

So, this time, I decided to shut the lab down completely—no access, no exceptions. I wanted to see if he could still "coincidentally" come up with the same results without anyone feeding him information.

For five straight days, Jason and I worked in isolation, pouring every ounce of energy into the project. With zero interference, we pushed ahead in the R&D phase. Finally, we succeeded. We developed a concept model of the intelligent robot, capable of distinguishing voices, identifying hosts from guests, and processing unfamiliar speech with adaptive response. It was a real breakthrough.

When I opened the lab door, exhausted but relieved, I was ready to show everyone what we had achieved. But instead of admiration, I was met with mockery and smirks.

My chest tightened. A sense of unease crept over me.

Then came Luther’s smug voice. “Team Leader Cole, I just released the data from this development stage. Don’t you think it’s a bit late to present it now? In science, it’s not just about hard work—it’s about efficiency.”

I froze. Shock flooded through me. I looked around and saw a few colleagues who had once supported me now avoiding my gaze. Some looked at me with pity. Others didn’t bother hiding their scorn.

How? The lab had been sealed. The data had been generated solely through the experiments Jason and I had performed. There had been no chance of any leak. Yet somehow, Luther had still released the same numbers—down to the decimal point.

I was completely dumbfounded.

Then, as if delivering the final blow, Luther chuckled and waved to the group. “You’ve all worked hard. Let’s celebrate tonight at The Mill Bar—no one goes home until they’re drunk!”

“Junior Brother, it’s not us who worked hard—it’s all you! We should be the ones thanking you!” someone said eagerly.

“You’re too humble. We’re a team, right? My success is everyone’s success,” he replied, throwing me a condescending glance.

Then he added with a smirk, “Team Leader, you called me yesterday asking for the data, and I sent it over out of courtesy. I know you want to contribute, but talent is a gift. No matter how jealous you are, you can’t fake it or take it.”

His words struck like daggers. My mind was spinning. Then I heard her voice—my girlfriend, Claire Bennett.

“Ethan Cole, as the team leader, how could you use your authority to pressure others for results?” she snapped. “I told you Luther has real talent, but you ignored him.”

She looked at me as if I were nothing more than an embarrassment. “You’re making such a big scene just to take credit for someone else’s work?”

I opened my mouth to speak, to defend myself, but she cut me off coldly.

“Enough. I’ve seen what you’re capable of—or rather, what you’re not. If I’d known this, I wouldn’t have recommended Junior Brother for the project.”

Then, as if delivering a final verdict, she said, “From now on, let Junior Brother Luther take full charge of the R&D. You can assist where needed.”

Cheers erupted around them. Everyone gathered around Luther, showering him with praise and laughter.

I stood there, alone, drowning in silence.

Grabbing my hair in frustration, I felt as if my thoughts were collapsing in on themselves. I couldn’t figure out how he got the data—unless he had used some underhanded, possibly even technological means to steal it.

From that moment forward, everything changed.

No one respected me anymore. The staff no longer spoke politely. Even Mr. John, our project head, began to treat me coldly. If it weren’t for my father’s reputation and connections, I was certain he would have already removed me from the position of team leader.

But this time, I would not let it end the same way. I had been given a second life—for a reason.

And I wasn’t going to waste it.

“Luther’s reputation as an intelligent tech genius has spread across the industry. Tons of big-name CEOs are fighting to poach him.”

“Talented people shine no matter where they go—unlike certain individuals who just use family ties to get ahead.”

Their words stung like needles. I buried myself at work, thinking about intelligent robot development day and night. But no matter how hard I tried, my progress was always overshadowed by the spotlight cast on Luther. All my efforts ended up being ridiculed, dismissed as desperate attempts to keep up.

It didn’t stop with the R&D team. Luther’s "genius" status soon captured society’s attention. The media hailed him as the future of tech. Schools invited him to speak. Corporations sought his endorsement. Meanwhile, my family’s enemies seized the moment to stir up public opinion.

“You claim your son’s an expert in robotics? What a joke. He just leeches off others’ research.”

“Some people will do anything to make money. It's disgusting. The ones who truly work hard get nothing, while crooks walk away with all the credit.”

With public sentiment turning vicious, Luther strolled through his new fame like a seasoned celebrity, shaking hands with CEOs and giving speeches at universities as if he’d built this empire from scratch.

But after sleeping for a full day and night, an idea struck me like lightning.

Luther, let’s see how far your ‘genius’ really goes.

The next morning, I announced that our R&D project was officially entering the third stage. I rejected any external assistance once again and brought only Jason into the sealed laboratory.

For the first three days, Ji and I conducted our work normally—calculating formulas, running simulations, and performing demonstrations. Everything was tightly controlled and secured. Then, on the fourth day, I deliberately halted the real research. Instead, I wrote a completely fake dataset, one that followed the same logic but contained fabricated conclusions. Meanwhile, I memorized the real results and stored nothing on our systems.

When I finally opened the lab door with the decoy data in hand, Luther and several others were already waiting in the hallway, smiling as if they knew what was coming.

My colleagues quickly snatched the documents from my grasp and rushed to compare them with what Luther had apparently just produced. I crossed my arms, watching calmly. This time, I thought, he wouldn’t be able to explain away the discrepancies.

But then, their faces began to twist. Instead of looking suspiciously at Luther, they turned their eyes toward me with confusion and quiet disappointment.

That’s when Luther stepped forward with his trademark arrogance and glanced at my false report. He gave a theatrical sigh, then smirked.

“Team Leader Cole… are you kidding me with this data set?” he said mockingly. “I just finished writing the exact same thing a minute ago. But clearly, you didn’t have access to it—so you decided to make up nonsense just to keep up.”

He emphasized every word with deliberate cruelty.

“I didn’t expect you to fall this far. You can’t even produce a single useful result.”

I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. My mind reeled.

Those numbers—they matched the ones I had only thought through in my head. I never documented them. How could he possibly know?

I clenched my fists. Rage boiled over.

Grabbing him by the collar, I shouted, “Luther! What kind of trick are you playing? How do you know the data I only calculated in my head?”

Smack!

A sharp slap landed on my cheek.

It was Claire—my girlfriend.

Her eyes blazed with disgust. “Ethan, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough? Why can’t you just admit you’re incompetent?”

“Stealing others’ work—don’t you feel even a shred of shame?”

I stared at her in disbelief. We had once shared dreams, discussed artificial intelligence late into the night, and talked about transforming the future together. She knew my methods. She knew I’d never stoop to plagiarism.

But still, she chose to stand beside Luther.

Her betrayal was absolute.

I looked around at the hostile faces, the judging eyes, the teammates whispering with contempt.

I felt ice crawl through my veins.

Everything was unraveling. Chaos swirled around me. The truth felt more distant than ever. I couldn’t see a way forward.

My chest ached. My mind clouded. But then—a sliver of clarity.

If I were going to survive this, I’d have to take a risk.

To live, I must die first.

I inhaled deeply, forcing the fury down, forcing my thoughts to sharpen.

It was time to outplay them all.