In the following weeks, Isolde successfully brought in her new interns. The month of April marked the beginning of the summer semester in Germany. A period when most students were busy with final projects, examinations, and graduation requirements.

Since the team had chosen to conduct screenings specifically for fourth-year students about to graduate, many of the applicants were already taking light summer classes. It was, in truth, the perfect time for them to gain practical experience before entering the workforce.

By the end of the first week, the lab had started a rhythm. The new interns arrived early every morning, eager but still adjusting to the professional atmosphere.

Isolde, ever patient, guided them through the routines. She explained every detail and ensured that even the smallest mistakes became opportunities for learning.

Of course, those who accepted the job had a general idea of what the company aimed to achieve. At its core, it was a tech firm focused on the psychological field.

In an age where therapy and mental rehabilitation had become vital to daily life, technology had long since established itself in the fabric of emotional and psychological care.

Over a century ago, machines had begun to assist in diagnosing behavioral patterns and stabilizing mental states.

In essence, it was a clinic.

Isolde oversaw the clinical side of operations, focusing on the psychological and therapeutic aspects, while the magi-technicians handled the technical work.

Each side depended on the other. Without the engineers, the machines would fail to accurately interpret human emotions. Without Isolde’s understanding of the human mind, the technology would be meaningless.

The facility itself reflected this duality. Half of it resembled a research lab, while the other half mirrored a calm medical center.

Julius hadn’t expected the project to develop in this direction, but he wasn’t against it either. In his previous life, this kind of work had become the norm by 2160.

It was common for soldiers, knights, and even mages to seek psychological treatment through artificial intelligence and advanced magi-tech systems.

Back then, emotional regulation had turned into a requirement. Those in combat roles relied on neural regulators to suppress trauma and stabilize their mana flow.

He remembered seeing soldiers with implants that could numb grief, erase fear, and even rewrite memory for the sake of performance.

Looking at what Isolde was building now, Julius realized.

She was years, perhaps even decades, ahead of her time.

According to Isolde, her parents had been firmly against her chosen path. They believed her talent in magi-technology was being squandered on something as "soft" as psychology.

To them, magi-tech was meant for innovation, not in emotions and the fragile workings of the human mind.

But Isolde had fought for it.

She had always believed that technology should serve not only convenience, but also healing.

In any case, Julius arrived at the facility and asked to see Isolde in private.

"Yes? Is there something you need, Mister Schneider?" she asked, setting aside her clipboard.

"Dream Industries is celebrating its 30th founding anniversary tomorrow," Julius said plainly. "As a Schneider, I’ve been invited. I was thinking of bringing you as my plus one."

"M-Me?" Isolde blinked, startled. "What about Mister Dieterich?"

"Gabriel’s attending as a guard," Julius replied. "So there’s no need to bring him along. That’s why I thought I’d ask you instead. Of course, you’re free to decline."

Isolde hesitated, unsure how to respond. The idea of accompanying Julius to such a high-profile event was too much for her.

"I... suppose I should ask what kind of event it is before deciding..."

"It’s a formal one," Julius said. "Executives, investors, a few members of the press. Mostly networking and showmanship."

"That’s... flattering, but are you sure I’m suited for something like that? I’d probably just look out of place."

"Nonsense. I’m asking you because I intend to show you off."

"W–What?" Isolde was at a loss for words.

"You’re my business partner now, Doctor. You’ll need to get accustomed to formal settings and meeting influential people. The Schneider Group will be backing you from this point on, so you might as well start learning how to handle that attention."

"I–I see..."

"Is there a problem?"

There was, in fact, a problem. A problem Isolde had been pondering ever since Julius began supporting her work.

"You see... my ex-husband might be there..." she admitted. "He’s an executive at Dream Industries..."

"So what? Do you still care about him?"

"No, that’s not it. Just—"

"Then what’s the problem?

Isolde’s gaze lowered to the floor. "...I just don’t want to make a scene. He’s the kind of man who thrives on attention, and seeing me there, with you of all people, will only provoke him."

Julius crossed his arms. "And? I can have him fired. Prevent him from attending if that’s what you want."

"N-No...!" Isolde blurted out, shaking her head quickly. "Please don’t. That would only make things worse."

"Worse?" Julius tilted his head slightly. "He sounds like someone who needs to learn his place."

"O-Okay, Mister Schneider," Isolde said quickly, raising her hands in defeat. "I’ll go with you. But please, don’t do that."

"If you insist."

* * *

Julius opened his laptop and inserted a flash drive. The custom encryption immediately activates to block any internal surveillance or data tracing. Lines of code streamlined rapidly across the screen as the system verified the secure connection.

Moments later, the deep web interface appeared.

He watched as the signal stabilized. The program he used wasn’t something publicly accessible, but was provided to him by Krüger.

Over the past few weeks, Julius had been scouring the deep web for information, focusing mainly on data related to his missions for the Directorate. He knew that some files were too well-protected to be accessed through official channels.

If the Directorate wanted results, then results were what he would deliver, by any means necessary.

A directory appeared before him, branching into layers of encrypted listings, including weapons trades, identity forgeries, political leaks, and classified intelligence. Each category was marked with a color-coded symbol representing risk level and price range.

"Dream Industries founding anniversary..."

Julius typed the words into the search bar.

But beneath the glossy headlines and celebratory tone, Julius saw something else.

With all the prominent figures behind Dream Industries’ success gathered under one roof, the event wasn’t just a celebration, but also a moment of vulnerability. A gathering of the powerful always drew attention, and not just from the media.

For the Revolutionaries, it was an opportunity to cripple one of the largest corporate empires in the world. For criminal syndicates, it was a gold mine waiting to be exploited.

The fall of Dream Industries, even for a single night, could shake Germany’s economic state.

"There’s nothing...?"

Julius frowned at the screen. For some reason, there were no signs of planned activity on the deep web, not even the usual recruitment posts from smaller Revolutionary cells.

That, in itself, was unusual.

Events like this always attracted attention from extremists and opportunists alike.

Even the minor groups usually posted anonymous calls for coordination or supply exchanges.