Daniel stepped forward. The noise faded for him. He focused only on the screen.
The first sequence blinked: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11…
“Prime numbers,” he murmured, entering the next value.
A soft confirmation tone chimed.
A second pattern appeared—1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8…
“Fibonacci.”
Another chime.
Shapes rotated on-screen—triangles, squares, pentagons—paired with numerical shifts based on their sides. Daniel traced the logic in his mind, his fingers moving steadily.
The laughter died.
Jonathan’s smirk faded.
The final riddle appeared:
“A father has three sons. The first is named Monday. The second is named Tuesday. What is the name of the third son?”
A murmur spread. Someone whispered, “Wednesday.”
Daniel shook his head slightly.
“The father has three sons,” he repeated quietly. “Monday, Tuesday… and Juan.”
He typed: Juan.
The vault clicked.
Then it opened.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Jonathan stared at the neatly stacked bonds inside, his reflection trembling in the polished metal.
Daniel stepped back, almost shy again.
Employees erupted—not in laughter, but in disbelief. Applause broke out hesitantly, then stronger. Videos were already uploading.