The boardroom was already full when Lucas walked in.
Twelve seats lined both sides of a sleek obsidian table shaped like a scalpel. Names he didn't know sat behind polished nameplates, dressed in suits far more expensive than his. Every head turned when he entered, and every eye held the same subtle expectation:
Let's see if the gym teacher chokes.
Lucas said nothing at first. He took the empty chair at the far end—the one that once belonged to Cyrus. No one offered to shake his hand.
A familiar figure sat at the opposite end: Frances Luo, immaculate in pearl-grey, a soft smile playing on her lips like she'd already won.
Julien He stood behind Lucas's chair like quiet backup, his tablet tucked under one arm. A younger associate moved to close the door.
The hum of tension sealed in with it.
Frances was the first to speak.
"Mr. Pan," she said smoothly, "how nice of you to join us on such short notice. I hope Shanghai hasn't overwhelmed you yet. It's a different pace than a gymnasium."
Lucas looked at her calmly.
"She's stalling. Buying time to watch your posture. Your silence threatens her. Maintain it."
He nodded once, not responding.
Frances turned to the others. "I've called this emergency session to ensure Han Global remains under responsible stewardship during this... unusual transition period."
A few murmured affirmations followed, hesitant but present.
"I believe it is in the company's best interest," she continued, "to hold a vote of temporary leadership reassignment until Mr. Pan is sufficiently briefed on the complexities of our operations."
Lucas leaned back in his chair. Then, with perfect timing:
"I request full access to the minutes of the last six board meetings. As majority shareholder."
The words fell like a metal snap.
Frances blinked. The man to her right—a wiry VP with a bald head and nervous fingers—looked sharply toward her, then down at his screen.
A woman on the left shifted in her seat.
"That one," ATHENA said in his ear. "Board member Ji Meilin. Small portfolio, but strong influence. Her indecision is readable. Target her next."
Lucas turned to Meilin. "Ms. Ji. Quick question."
She startled slightly. "Yes?"
"What were the two failed initiatives Cyrus vetoed last year in Q3?"
She stiffened. "I—"
"You voted against one, didn't you?"
"Y-yes. The international licensing restructure."
Lucas nodded. "So did I, for the record. I read through every proposal. That was the right call."
Several heads tilted, recalculating.
Frances narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Pan, I wasn't aware you'd already reviewed confidential archives."
Lucas shrugged. "I own the vault now. Might as well see what's inside."
"Let them wonder when you did it. Let them assume you've been watching longer than you have."
Frances leaned forward, tone still pleasant. "Ownership does not equal competence."
"And marrying the founder didn't make you a builder," Lucas said flatly. "But here we are."
A few chuckles escaped the table—quickly stifled, but audible.
Frances's eyes darkened. "Are you implying I'm unqualified?"
"I'm implying I'm not the only one in this room who didn't build Han Global, but still expects to lead it."
That landed harder than expected.
Julien raised a brow.
Frances's hand tensed slightly on the edge of her chair.
"Her tell," ATHENA said. "Microgesture under pressure. That's when she strikes. Brace."
Frances smiled sweetly, then gestured to the assistant behind her. He stepped forward and tapped a few commands into the built-in table screen.
A new panel appeared in front of every board member: projected, glowing, elegant.
"Motion to temporarily transfer executive decision-making power to the acting CEO, until Mr. Pan completes an internal readiness evaluation and fiscal review," she said crisply.
Lucas didn't flinch.
"I object to the motion," he said immediately. "As majority shareholder, I request the motion be tabled for no less than sixty days pending full audit."
More heads turned. One man muttered, "He knows his rights."
Frances tried to cover her irritation with a graceful tilt of her chin.
"You're new to all this, Lucas. This isn't personal. It's protection—for the company."
Lucas kept his tone even. "Then why does it feel like you're protecting it from me?"
She said nothing.
"Push now," ATHENA said. "You have ten seconds of dominance left before the tide turns."
"I'll make a deal," Lucas said suddenly, standing. "Give me full access to Han Global's senior strategy reports and Cyrus's last quarter memos. I'll complete your so-called readiness evaluation in half the time. If I fail, I'll abstain from any strategic vote for thirty days."
Frances's brow furrowed.
"And if you pass?" she asked.
Lucas smiled, slow and sharp. "Then I call a vote of permanent leadership restructure. Including chairwoman eligibility."
That got their attention.
Julien raised his eyebrows. Someone at the end of the table let out a low whistle.
Frances's smile didn't fade, but the light behind it dimmed.
"Bold," she murmured. "Very bold."
Lucas met her gaze. "Learned from the best."
"Well executed," ATHENA said. "Their projection models have shifted. Frances is recalculating. She won't act again until she can bleed you indirectly."
Frances finally leaned back and folded her hands.
"Fine," she said. "You'll have your reports. The evaluation begins tomorrow."
Lucas nodded. "Good."
The room sat in silence for a moment too long.
Then Julien tapped his tablet and said, "Motion tabled by shareholder override. Meeting adjourned."
Outside the boardroom, Lucas exhaled slowly in the hallway, his knuckles still tingling.
Julien stepped beside him. "You do that without ATHENA whispering in your head?"
Lucas glanced sideways. "Some of it."
Julien chuckled. "Well, either way... you didn't get eaten alive."
"Not yet."
Julien handed him a thin folder. "Then maybe you're worth betting on."
He walked away.
Lucas stood alone for a moment, pulse still ticking too fast.
"Your instincts were correct," ATHENA said calmly. "But your energy management needs work. You reveal too much in your jaw tension."
Lucas sighed. "So I'm bad at poker. Noted."
"Poker is a game of masks. This is a game of knives."
He looked down at the floor. "You think I passed the test?"
"You started it."