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Smash the Bot! Novel Cover

Smash the Bot!

After dying in a suspicious lab explosion, River Lowell wakes up on the morning of the National Robotics Championship. In his past life, his rival Adrian Cross stole his designs and his girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed his DNR. To prevent his murder and expose Adrian’s theft, River destroys his robot and withdraws. As the public mocks him, River must navigate a dangerous web of corporate espionage and betrayal to reclaim his reputation in this sci-fi mystery.
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Chapter 2

The night I was taken to the hospital, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the Do Not Resuscitate form without hesitation. To the world, she announced that I had died beyond saving.

The internet cheered.

When the news reached my parents, they seemed to have aged ten years overnight. Crushed by grief, they both took their own lives.

After death, my soul hovered helplessly, forced to watch them go. Rage burned so hot that I refused to move on or cross into whatever came next.

And then, in a blink, I was back.

It was the day before the National Robotics Championship.

This time, I would find the truth. I would clear my name, and Adrian would pay the price.

"River, we still have time to rework the build!" Zane Ward said, his jaw clenched tightly. "This competition isn’t just about the two-million-dollar prize. The champion will get taken in as a protege by a scientific giant. We can’t give up."

"I’ll handle the rebuild myself. You keep pushing the organizers," I said, taking a long, steadying breath. This time, I wasn’t trusting anyone, not even Zane, my closest friend.

In my last life, Lila had been with me through the rebuild, hovering like the perfect, supportive girlfriend. However, I’d seen what happened after my death—her clinging to Adrian’s arm like they’d always belonged together.

I didn’t need to guess. She was the one who leaked my robot’s data to him.

However, Lila didn’t understand programming or mechanics. Even if she’d handed him my files, she could never have accessed the most critical part, the core operating program.

As for Adrian, he and I had been rivals since freshman year, always at each other’s throats. People called me his shadow, accusing me of copying him when, in reality, he somehow managed to release my ideas before I could.

We didn’t even walk down the same campus paths. There was no way he’d seen my robot in person.

So, how the hell had his core program matched mine exactly?

Even with this second chance, I still didn’t have the answer.

Thinking of Lila made my chest ache. We’d grown up together, childhood sweethearts who were already talking about marriage, yet, at the most critical moment of my life, she’d shoved me into the abyss.

I caught myself drifting into that dark spiral and slapped my own cheek hard. Focus. Right now, the only thing that mattered was upgrading the bot.

I worked fast, tearing down panels, rewriting code.

When I’d first designed this machine, I’d envisioned a far more advanced version, but it was unstable. I’d gone with a safer program to keep performance consistent.

I’d always had an uncanny instinct for both mechanics and programming. I’d been confident the conservative version could win the championship.

Now, there was no holding back. I had to go all in.

An hour later, I stood over the upgraded robot and finally exhaled.

This rebuild was mine alone, with no witnesses or leaks. Unless Adrian Cross was some kind of god, there was no way he could know my new specs.

I wiped the sweat from my brow and turned toward the laptop to submit my updated data to the organizers.

Suddenly, Zane burst through the door.

"Bro, Adrian just updated his robot’s data. You need to see this."

A cold weight dropped into my stomach. I snatched the laptop and hit play on his latest demo.

"No. No way."

On-screen, Adrian’s robot moved with the exact precision, the exact fluidity, of my freshly upgraded build.

I stared at the comments flooding his page, fans falling over themselves to praise him, my face draining of color.

Then, I saw his latest post on social media: "I thought my first-generation design could already win. But in a competition like this, there’s always someone better, so I decided to upgrade. It’s not perfectly stable, but if I can get guidance from one of the greats during the event, it’ll all be worth it."

Sweat rolled down my temples. The heart of this upgrade, the program that made its movements come alive, was something I’d written from the depths of my obsession, day and night. It was a creation I’d guarded like a gift from the heavens.

No one else should have even known it existed.

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