My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 24

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 24
Ibi stood before Quinton with his Mobile Phone extended, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
This nerd, who explored every truth in the world yet failed to grasp something as simple as the concept of cooperation, would surely spend many future events hiding away in corners just like this.
Ibi couldn’t track him down every single time.
So technology it would have to be.
“Hurry.”
When he merely looked at her without taking the Mobile Phone, she thrust it toward him again, pressing him onward.
She’d just received word that a conflict was about to break out between Dormitory 1 and another group down at the Cafeteria, and she needed to get there quickly.
“This is seriously annoying.”
He grumbled as he took Ibi’s Mobile Phone, entered a number, and handed it back to her.
Ibi immediately called the number and confirmed his Mobile Phone rang in his pocket.
“Save my number, and give me your SNS handle too.”
“Do I look like the type to do that?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
Ibi nodded readily.
In fact, until not long ago, Ibi herself had assumed SNS was something only people like Tiffany Vance used.
That is, people who chased illusions. But now she knew differently.
“There are so many nerds crazier than you on SNS—wouldn’t you want to join that circle?”
SNS hosted scholars far more obsessive than Cyrus—though calling them that felt somewhat presumptuous—and they occasionally held live streams in real time, performing what amounted to knowledge-worship rituals.
For Cyrus, that time would be just as thrilling as a major concert by a pop star.
He clamped his lips shut. Clearly, she’d struck a nerve.
‘Did I push too hard?’
Ibi felt a bit apologetic and decided to back off. After all, she had his number now—no need to torment him further.
“If you don’t want to, there’s nothing I can do.”
“Who said I don’t want to?”
He pulled his Mobile Phone from his pocket and began tapping something out.
His expression, however, screamed that he found the entire prospect utterly distasteful.
Buzz. Ibi’s Mobile Phone vibrated again in her hand.
[@vacuum_state has started following you.]
“Vacuum State?”
A bare profile, username ‘Null’, account locked so details weren’t visible—but there was no doubt about whose it was.
“Is that your account?”
“Who else would it be?”
Ibi followed him back. The moment her follow was accepted, she heard him sigh directly ahead of her.
“I never intended to let anyone in.”
As his locked account opened, what appeared inside was simply… a completely empty screen with no posts at all.
Posts: 0. Following: 1. Followers: 1.
Ibi stared at this and murmured quietly to herself.
“The vacuum state has been broken.”
“Yeah, well, you’re welcome for that.”
He irritably shoved his Mobile Phone into his pocket.
Ibi was about to say something more to him when an urgent message came through from downstairs, and she hurried out of the Broadcasting Room.
“At least try to participate in something while you’re here, Quinton. Anything.”
As she left, Ibi made one final request of him.
But he merely nodded vaguely in response.
* * *
Dormitory 3 had secured the highest score at the New Year’s Resolution Event.
The moment the principal announced the results, everyone in Dormitory 3 had already pulled out their Mobile Phones.
Order confirmation messages flooded in like madness.
Because they’d held meetings over four days to ensure no one ordered the same items (cooperation worked perfectly when it mattered), no one hesitated.
And that evening.
The seniors of Dormitory 3 declared they had to “return last year’s humiliation” and gathered all the delivery food at the Student Commons Cafeteria.
There, the seniors unveiled the performance they’d spent a year preparing.
Seven seniors stood in a line facing Dormitory 1, and each one shoved five slices of pizza into their mouths, stacked on top of each other.
Then they ostentatiously displayed the long strings of melted cheese stretching from their mouths.
“This is real cheese, you hear me? You losers!”
These guys are completely insane!
Someone shouted this and recorded the triumphant moment on video.
Ibi was nervous it might actually escalate into a fight with Dormitory 1, but fortunately it didn’t come to that. They just received some cutting stares.
“Last year, they were way worse.”
How much did they showboat back then.
In any case, one thing was certain.
“No matter what, we can’t lose next year.”
All the freshmen around her nodded at Ibi’s words as she brought over a kebab.
Because they couldn’t bear to watch Dormitory 1 show off next year.
“But how did we even get first place? I heard participation was high across all dorms this year, so the competition was fierce.”
Joy, sitting right beside her, asked while wiping garlic sauce from the corner of her mouth.
“I’m not sure yet—I haven’t looked at the detailed breakdown.”
The last time Ibi checked, attendance scores were nearly tied, and they were falling far behind in the problematic basketball event.
But after everything ended, the situation had completely reversed. It was as if someone had deliberately scored goal after goal in Dormitory 3’s favor.
“That troublemaker?”
Joy gestured toward Logan Blake with her chin, the one crawling across the table and holding up a cola like a trophy glass.
“Logan? I thought he was sleeping through meditation class earlier.”
“But if not him, who else from Dormitory 3 would’ve scored?”
That much was true—Logan was always hanging around with the boys playing basketball, so he was the most likely candidate.
“Besides, you know what the other kids in Dormitory 3 are like, right? They’re all weaklings who steer clear of sports.”
That assessment of Dormitory 3.
She hadn’t heard it in a while. There was a time she’d spoken to Bennett this way.

She had to admit that comment had been closer to mockery than anything else.
And now.
“…Well, they might not be athletic, but in their own way, they really do know how to make the most of their school life.”
Ibi answered with the same words, but with an entirely different meaning.
“You seem different.”
Joy observed this with interest.
“I’ve started enjoying my school life in my own way too.”
“Sure, but never do that self-introduction again in front of everyone.”
Ibi heard snickering from those around the table. She felt a bit embarrassed and stood up from her seat.
Then she asked the junior class president for the detailed score breakdown and checked it.
She flipped through the basketball participation list first, page by page. After the first few pages, she found her own name.
It was written there along with the goals she’d scored while receiving help from Cyrus.
And below her name.
Cyrus Quinton.
‘He really did participate.’
Ibi tapped her finger gently on his neatly written name and smiled slightly.
From the way he’d just nodded vaguely, he seemed to have no intention of being cooperative at all.
‘Could it be that the improvement in Dormitory 3’s basketball score is because of Quinton?’
Since Cyrus had shown her how to do it, he probably knew how to score himself.
And with such large hands and height, he might actually be quite skilled.
Though it was hard to imagine.
“Hey, listen—”
Ibi was about to tell the raucous dorm kids about this.
That Cyrus had participated in basketball, and likely scored quite a few points.
Though he remained unseen, he had dutifully participated for them all.
“Cyrus didn’t show up at all, did he?”
“Well, of course not? Isn’t that the whole thing—he has no sense of cooperation?”
“He’s the type who resents everything. Just leave him be.”
But faced with the sharp comments from one of the tables, Ibi couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.
Speaking up now would only fan the flames of resentment.
Ibi slipped out of the noisy Student Commons Cafeteria and pulled out her Smartphone.
Either way, she wanted to thank him for properly showing up.
[How does it feel to escape the vacuum state? I found your name on the participation list. How many goals did you score anyway?]
At any rate, she sent that much.
‘He probably won’t reply.’
Most likely, he’d see her message, scrunch up his face, and flip his Mobile Phone over.
So she put her Smartphone away without much expectation.
Buzz.
Surprisingly, it vibrated almost immediately.
Was Cyrus Quinton the type to reply this quickly?
That was quite unexpected.
Ibi felt a pleasant premonition and pulled out her Smartphone again.
A new message had arrived, and Ibi tapped it absent-mindedly, a faint smile on her lips.
Click.
Ibi’s footsteps stopped. The tips of her fingers gripping the phone went white.
A message from an anonymous account.
[Unknown: Is the secret being kept safe?]

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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