The Next Day…
Even though Penny didn’t make it to the semi-finals, she watched the petition through a live broadcast. She wasn’t required to be present, especially since Yugi was there to ensure the event ran smoothly.
Now that the semi-finals were over and the finalists had been decided, the petitors were given three days to rest before the big event. Until then, Prime Group was providing them with acmodations, food, and everything else they needed for the duration of the petition.
It was also part of their schedule for each team to meet with Penny before the finals.
—
[TEAM A’s Practice Room]
“Hey, are you sure T. Mouse is ing today?” one of the team members asked, casually playing on the puter instead of practicing. “He’s going to be our boss, so should I prepare?”
“Why would you need to prepare?” another member smirked. “It doesn’t matter if we meet the big boss or not. If we win, we’re all walking out of here as millionaires.”
“He’s right,” another chimed in, chuckling while gaming. “It’s not like they can withhold our prize money just because we didn’t meet the boss.”
“But from what I heard, Prime Group has been scouting all the players.” Unlike the others, the fourth person wasn’t playing but instead watching stock prices on his screen. “Win or lose, they might offer us jobs. That wouldn’t be a bad backup plan. Team D is pretty good. I played a round with one of their guys, and he finished coding in under half an hour.”
The fifth team member, who had been quietly jotting down notes in a notebook, finally looked up. “It’s not a rumor. It’s true,” he said flatly. “And don’t get mad if someone brings up the worst-case scenario. This is a petition—ten teams are fighting for first place. Having a backup plan, like getting hired by Prime Group, isn’t a bad idea.”
He added in a quiet mumble, “The hacking market is tough. And illegal. Might as well make decent money doing something we’re good at—legally.”
The fourth person smiled and nodded. “Exactly. And from what I heard, Prime Group’s cyber security and R&D departments are top-notch. Sounds like a solid deal.”
The other three remained silent, clearly unimpressed by their teammates’ perspective. To them, Prime Group needed them—not the other way around. Otherwise, why would they host this petition in the first place? Besides, how could they bow their heads to someone who probably didn’t even understand the basics of what they did?
Still, despite their pride, the group ultimately agreed to meet the elusive T. Mouse.
Similar conversations echoed through the other practice rooms, where different teams had varying opinions on the matter. Some were already thinking ahead, considering a job offer as a fallback plan. Others were solely focused on winning. A few wanted both—a championship title and a career opportunity.
Not all of them were full-time hackers, but many were.
However, despite their differences, they all agreed on one thing: they doubted any of the higher-ups truly understood their skills. In their minds, T. Mouse was just another capitalist. After all, being a good businessman didn’t necessarily mean he had the technical expertise they did.
Yet, in the end, curiosity won out. Everyone agreed to meet the mysterious boss.
—
Two Hours Later…
At the hotel where all the petitors were staying, a function hall had been set up for the gathering. Catering tables lined the sides, offering food, while round tables filled the space for seating. But what immediately caught everyone’s attention was the row of five old puters placed at the front of the venue.
“What are these?” one of the petitors asked, circling the table and eyeing the puters with curiosity. “They look ancient.”
Someone snorted. “I can already imagine the lag on these junk heaps.”
“Haha.” Another laughed. “Not just a pile of junk, but also a giant security risk.”
“Why would they put these here?”
“Who knows? Maybe for nostalgia?”
Some laughed, while others remained skeptical. A few, more analytical in nature, were already overthinking the presence of these outdated machines. Prime Group had to have a reason for displaying them, right?
“They’re not seriously expecting us to use these in the finals, are they?” someone blurted out, drawing a mix of laughter and frowns.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” another scoffed. “If we used these in the finals, we’d be here for days. Just imagine running security-cracking software on these dinosaurs.”
“Yeah, Prime Group wouldn’t be that unreasonable. It wouldn’t make sense.”
“Besides, these relics are full of vulnerabilities. They’re practically begging to be hacked.”
The majority found the idea absurd. They were all skilled professionals in the cyber world, and they agreed—forcing them to use these outdated puters would only expose how little the event organizers actually knew about their field.
“You guys are overthinking things.” A woman’s voice cut through the discussion.
Heads turned toward Penny as she made her way to the table of “junk.” Standing behind the puters, she tapped one lightly and grinned.
“These old junk heaps you’re mocking are some of Prime Group’s most prized possessions,” she said knowingly. “After all, Prime Group started with these very machines. Each one belonged to the first five members of our cyber security unit.”
Her smile widened. “And on these puters, the original blueprints of a few of the codes you had to crack during the preliminaries were created.”
The room fell into stunned silence. Some gawked, others looked skeptical. Prime Group wasn’t that old—could they really have started with such outdated equipment?
“Prime Group thought it would be fitting to show you these relics,” Penny continued, her smile never fading. “To remind you to appreciate the tools you have today. Technology has evolved faster than anything in the past two decades. But as we move forward with it, it’s important to remember where we started and why we’re here.”
The crowd exchanged glances, still trying to process her words, until someone finally blurted out:
“Who are you?”
“The person you were meant to meet today.” Yugi’s voice echoed through the room.
Everyone turned as he approached with a confident smile, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. Tilting his head slightly, he smirked.
“The mastermind behind this event,” he said. “T. Mouse.”
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