Pierre began by recalling the recent war with Frankland.
"Last year, everyone, we defeated Frankland's army in the southeastern sea – our strategic area rich in rare elements," he said.
A slide displayed the Frankland flag—blue, white, and red stripes—alongside an image of a hatchet-shaped island in the southeastern sea. Then, 3D footage projected into the air.
"Our advanced technologies overwhelmed them completely," Pierre continued.
"Ultrasonic jets and homing ICMS obliterated their air and naval forces."
Applause erupted from the audience, particularly those in dark green uniforms. The clapping subsided as Pierre switched to another slide, revealing Frankland footmen capturing islanders as hostages.
"But…" he said, his voice softening.
"Our enemies adapted, deploying a ground force of over ten thousand men."
"Our strategic weapons were useless as they took townsfolk hostage."
Silence fell over the room as Pierre quoted, "A country is not a country without its people. We must save the islanders."
He transitioned to another slide, this time a 3D projection showing Granitz footmen wielding advanced weapons—laser guns, vibrating blades, non-Newtonian bulletproof suits, and more.
"Granitz's troops were sent to rescue the islanders," he explained.
"We knew we were outnumbered ten to one."
A shout rang out from the back of the room. Pierre switched to a slide featuring a single photo of a man in a combat suit, its 3D image generated and rotating in the air.
"But our advancements in biotechnology allowed us to protect the island, save lives, and minimize losses," he said.
An animation depicted one man in a combat suit battling ten soldiers.
"What if I told you today that our biotechnology could advance further—not just ten against one, but…"
The animation transitioned to a new scene.
"A fifty against one is now possible!" Pierre declared. Gasps of surprise rippled through the audience.
He switched to a slide displaying code screenshots.
"With this algorithm, we can reduce sensory processing latency to just 20 milliseconds," Pierre explained, presenting his research on enhancing human sensory response.
"Human perception typically ranges from 100 to 200 milliseconds. With this code, brainwave signals are compressed, transmitted, and processed five times faster." He pointed to a slide comparing the data.
"What does that actually mean?" a man in the audience asked, raising his hand.
"Good question," Pierre replied. "Let me show you visually."
He moved to a nearby console and typed a command. Seconds later, the robot, previously motionless, activated, moving its head and limbs. It positioned itself at the center between two audience seats.
Pierre walked to the entrance, where a staff member handed him a pistol. Whispers spread through the audience, growing louder as he aimed toward the stage where the robot stood.
"No worries, everyone. This pistol fires special bullets that can't penetrate organic tissue—just a scratch, honestly," Pierre reassured them.
"I wouldn't dare try anything with so many officers around." The audience laughed, their concerns eased.
He crossed to the opposite side of the stage and aimed the pistol in his right hand at the robot.
"From where I stand to the stage, it's about 20 meters. The robot's perception is modeled on the average human," he said.
A 3D image of the robot's internal structure—wires and cables—appeared on each globe-like projector in the room.
"When I pull the trigger, the image will highlight a pulse from the robot's sensors detecting the bullet or gunfire. This pulse travels to its processor, which then commands a dodge."
With his finger on the trigger, Pierre continued, "The bullet travels at 350 meters per second. With the robot's perception at 100 milliseconds, the bullet would reach it before it could react."
"I'll first shoot at the robot without the enhancement algorithm," Pierre announced.
He pulled the trigger, and a silent projectile shot toward the robot. A red highlighted pulse from its eyes was halfway to its processor when the bullet struck, leaving a small scratch on its left chest.
"Nothing special, as you can see. No one can track a bullet's path," Pierre said calmly, then signaled the staff to activate the code.
"This time, the latency is 20 milliseconds. The bullet will travel only 7 meters when the pulse reaches the sensors, and by 14 meters, the command from the processor will instruct the robot's legs to move," he explained.
"Science needs proof, and actions speak louder than words."
Pierre pulled the trigger again. This time, the robot instantly stepped to the right, dodging the bullet, which left a small hole in the stage floor. Applause erupted from the audience, thrilled by the incredible moment. Pierre displayed the robot's nerve pulse record, comparing it shot by shot with the bullet's trajectory.
Back on the stage, he commented on the demonstration.
"Of course," he added, "this depends on distance and the type of firearm used."
He transitioned to a slide showing a diagram of a person being shot at by various firearms.
"In summary, a person could see a bullet's trail—like in The Matrix—and dodge it" Laughter echoed through the room as the slide switched to a screenshot from the iconic movie.
"In the future, we're optimistic about pushing latency below the reflex threshold," he concluded, earning a round of applause. Upon transition to Q&A session,
a voice from the crowd asked, "Can you elaborate on military applications?"
"That's a great point. The implementation is still in progress," Pierre replied.
"Thanks to my colleague in the front row, Freja, who, along with her team, is working on integrating the code into combat suits." He gestured toward a woman in a front row.
Another question followed: "What about implementing it in a robot or a human?"
"That's an excellent idea! Implementing it in robots could save countless soldiers' lives. However, the risk is that enemies might exploit the algorithm," Pierre responded.
"Using a combat suit, we can minimize the risk of our technology being exploited," Pierre added.
"On the other hand, implementing it in humans faces challenges like thermal throttling and biocompatibility."
Pierre concluded his presentation. As applause resumed, he stepped down from the stage.
After the light in the room lifted up again, Elena stood, approached him near the stage, and offered a warm, sincere smile. "That was really impressive!" she said softly.
Pierre returned a quick smile. "Thanks to your script," he whispered. "Next time, please, no military introduction."
Elena smirked. "It worked, didn't it?"
Pierre exhaled, conceding that starting with the recent war had captured the audience's attention, especially the soldiers present.
As they spoke, Freja, in white blouse, and jeans, approached with a confident posture.
"Congratulations," she said in a rich, assertive voice. "As expected from our newly appointed director."
Pierre's tone shifted—firmer, more resolute. "Just the acting director, Freja."
"Half of this success belongs to you," he continued.
Freja smiled, though a flicker of something—perhaps envy—flashed beneath her composed expression. "This was a team effort, Pierre," she replied. Then she shared an update.
"Actually, we finished integrating the combat suit with the algorithm yesterday."
Pierre's voice rose with excitement. "That's great news!" He added, "Have you solved the thermal issue?". Though, his excitement was fake.
"Not quite. The current chip lasts only ten minutes," Freja admitted.
"The hardware problem…" Pierre and Freja said in unison. They locked eyes, a moment of shared understanding passing between them as Elena observed.
Breaking the silence, Freja made a soft cough, before shifted topics. "I had another idea when you mentioned implementing the algorithm in robots and humans."
Pierre met her gaze. No words were exchanged, but tension hung in the air, as if they could read each other's thoughts. Pierre spoke first, his voice calm and steady.
"A cybernetic limb, as I understand," Pierre said.
"You knew," Freja replied, her tone turning persuasive. "If we pursue that research, we could secure more funding."
A few moments passed before Pierre responded. His voice was thoughtful, reflecting on the feasibility of Freja's ambitious proposal.
"I know, Freja," he said steadily. "But we need to address…"
"Challenges like thermal throttling and biocompatibility," Freja interjected, finishing his thought with confident ease.
"I'm aware of those," she continued, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
Pierre's expression remained calm, unreadable. Though unmoved by her ambition, as acting director of the institute, he couldn't dismiss the chief engineer's proposal without solid reasons. Increased military funding would undeniably benefit the institute.
"I have no objections," Pierre said finally. "This could also help those who've lost limbs, provided you can recruit one or two more engineers for the project."
Freja's smile widened, and she gently clasped his hands. "Thank you, Pierre. I have candidates in mind."
As she held his hands, a soft cough interrupted them. Pierre and Freja turned to see Elena, her expression unreadable but the tension palpable.
"Ahem…" Elena cleared her throat again, more pointedly.
Freja caught her look and teased, "Jealous?, my little Elena?"
"N-no, Freja!" Elena blurted, flustered, and lost her composure for a moment. "And I'm 28, not a kid anymore!"
Her response mixed warmth and embarrassment, her voice shifting between soft protest and fluster. Freja laughed gently, clearly amused by Elena's reaction. Elena narrowed her round blue eyes, her displeasure obvious.
Freja, still entertained, tightened her grip slightly on Pierre's hands.
"Freja, please," Pierre said calmly, urging her to release him and ease up on the teasing.
Freja let go and stepped back. "Thanks for the collaboration, Pierre. See you later." She casted a final glance before walking away.
Pierre's gaze followed her briefly before turning to Elena, who was still glaring at him, her blue eyes narrowed into a quiet pout. He offered a small, comforting smile.
"It was nothing, Elena," he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.
Elena blushed slightly, clearly not as unaffected as she tried to appear.
"You should've stopped her sooner," she muttered, mimicking Freja's earlier gesture by grabbing his wrist and patting it in exaggerated imitation.
"Grrr—"
Suddenly, Pierre groaned, clutching his stomach. Elena paused, confused, then burst into laughter as she noticed his smartwatch blinking red, a warning flashing on its screen: Body Status: Danger Zone.
"Looks like someone needs fuel," she said with a grin.
"That presentation drained me," Pierre muttered, still pressing a hand to his belly.
"You did great up there."
"Compliments don't cut it, Elena. You know me."
"How about I buy you some calamari?"
Pierre's expression shifted instantly, his eyes widening like a child's, mouth agape in mock awe.
"That's… awesome," he gasped dramatically.
"I wonder if the canteen has it today," Elena added with a smirk.
Pierre checked his smartwatch again—his blood sugar level had dropped below 60%. He glanced at the time: just past noon. No wonder his stomach was rebelling.
Without another word, they headed toward the elevator.