"Just record Mr. Lawson's speech, and you'll have your answer," Quentin told them.
Skeptical but intrigued, the reporters immediately scrambled to set up their cameras.
From inside the hall, Mr. Lawson's forcedly lighthearted voice echoed as he tried to smooth things over. "Kids these days, men and women alike, are all so desperate for fame they've forgotten how to act!"
He let out a booming laugh, prompting polite chuckles from the audience.
Jenna's smile was by far the smuggest of them all.
The female voice transmitting from the interpreter's booth matched his pace—crisp, steady, and seemingly flawless at first glance.
The press only needed to hear a sentence or two before they were entirely convinced.
"That has to be Caroline!"
"Exactly! That level of absolute precision is identical to her!"
Listening closely, Chloe furrowed her brows.
The phrasing and translation habits were incredibly similar to hers. If one didn't pay extremely close attention, they wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
Quentin, however, remained thoroughly unimpressed.
The reason Caroline Monet was irreplaceable was because of her sheer uniqueness. An ordinary copycat could never mimic her true skill.
Seeing that the crowd had settled down, Mr. Lawson fully relaxed on stage. He got so into his presentation that he completely abandoned his script and started improvising.
He was infamous for going off-script. His train of thought was chaotic, packed with dense industry jargon, historical quotes, and dry humor. It was a nightmare to translate in real-time. That was exactly why he had insisted on hiring Caroline Monet; a regular interpreter would never survive his speeches.
Now that he supposedly had her in the booth, he held absolutely nothing back.
But down in the audience, people quickly noticed something was horribly wrong.
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