My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 43

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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 43
Two long tables faced each other on the stage of the Grand Hall.
The debate of the seniors from the year above was winding down.
Ibi watched the stage from behind a red curtain at the edge, where blazing lights poured down.
Standing in the gaze of so many people was familiar to her. There should have been no tension.
And yet her trembling fingertips would not obey.
Beyond the stage, a shadow visible behind the opposite curtain.
She couldn’t see his face clearly, but it was probably Fabian. He’d said he’d be debating on the same topic as her.
He’d carelessly used the title “Princess” even with Cyrus standing right there.
‘Surely he won’t do that on stage.’
Ibi kept her gaze fixed on his distant shadow.
She couldn’t be certain, but it seemed he was looking her way too.

A warning from her parents surfaced from deep memory.
Today was the day young Fabian had to pay the price for what his father had done.
Though Ibi was only a child then, she had a duty to uphold that position as successor.
Perhaps it had been a form of “education.”
A cruel demonstration of what became of those who defied the Royal Palace.
The session had been long, but its substance amounted to Fabian being stripped of “everything he had to lose.”
His wealth, his rights, and his name.
Ibi could only watch his silhouette growing smaller beneath the sharp eyes of the adults.
And then, just once.
At the end of the session, Fabian turned to look at Ibi, sitting in the observer’s section.
It was unmistakably a gaze that clung desperately to something precious.
Having lost everything else, at least one thing—
His hope that the cousin who had been his only solace within the high walls of the Royal Palace would stand beside him still.
That piteous light in his eyes, yearning for that alone.
Ibi turned her head and looked away.
“Underwood.”
At the low voice that came suddenly to her ear, Ibi spun around in surprise.
Cyrus stood with his hand gripping her shoulder, his brow furrowed.
“It’s your turn. How many times do I have to call you?”
Pushed along by his hand, Ibi was shoved to the center of the stage, where brilliant light poured down.
Under that bright illumination, her gaze met Fabian’s directly.
Though she knew she shouldn’t, Ibi found herself turning away.
Is a lie told with good intention justified?
The debate opened with the affirmative taking the first speech. Fabian took the microphone.
“Truth is sometimes like a sharp blade. To force someone to bear a truth they cannot handle is an act no different from violence.”
With his handsome features and pleasant voice, he quickly captured everyone’s attention.
“Concealing the truth for the sake of another is warm consideration. In fact, it cannot even be called a lie.”
And Fabian’s gaze turned toward Ibi.
Without thinking, Ibi found herself gripping the hem of her school uniform skirt tightly.
“It is certainly not arrogance or deception.”
His argument aligned almost perfectly with what Ibi had been thinking all along.
That it was better for everyone not to know the truth.
Soon the affirmative side’s speaking time ended, and it was now the turn of Ibi and Cyrus, who were taking the negative position.
The light above the microphone in front of Ibi came on, and a timer began counting on the screen visible at the front of the Grand Hall.
Ibi gripped the microphone.
……
What she needed to say had been perfectly prepared over the past two weeks. It should have been easy.
But her mouth would not open.
To refute Fabian’s logic now was to refute herself.
“Negative side? Time is passing.”
As the silence stretched, the moderator issued a warning.
‘Right.’
Her mind suddenly gone blank, Ibi looked down at her Notebook to check it.
What was she supposed to say?
Not a single word registered in her eyes.
What should she do?
In her panic, she began turning pages with a trembling hand.
Somewhere she’d organized her line of argument—
Tap.
A large hand lowered onto the Notebook.
The pages she’d been flipping frantically finally stilled.
One of his fingers caught at her fingertip, then pressed the overlapped edge gently before drawing away.
“Speak.”
And the words that came through quietly.
“Refute him.”
A whisper so low the audience could never hear it. The same words as before.
When his Glasses had bumped against hers.

An ally. Yes, she had an ally.
Ibi gripped the microphone tightly. The cold metal’s touch awakened her.
“……The words ‘Compassion’ and ‘protection’ you just spoke of sound sweet, but they commit a fatal error.”
Her voice began as a soft whisper, but soon gathered clarity.
Ibi pushed her Glasses up. One deep breath. Then she looked directly across at Fabian.
“The act of a select few who hold information obscuring the eyes and ears of the many—we do not call that protection.”
Ibi uttered the words that struck at her own most painful place.
“It is Control. And the most arrogant Deception.”
Did Fabian never expect that Ibi would speak of her own actions this way?
His easy smile hardened for the first time, stiffening visibly.
“No, that is not so.”
As Ibi finished speaking, Fabian stepped forward ahead of his partner and took the microphone again.
“Not everyone has the strength of heart to bear truth. Controlling information to prevent panic is a lonely cross that a leader must carry.”
And he added another example.
“When a doctor gives a hopeless patient a placebo to provide psychological comfort, it operates on the same principle.”
Applause sounded from somewhere. Likely from students of the same school or people supporting his argument.
“What a fortunate scenario that is.”
Quinton’s quiet remark caused all that praise to fade away.
“No matter how you dress it up, you’ve simply stolen from individuals the opportunity to know the truth and make their own judgment. Because it’s easier to Control the masses that way.”
He didn’t rise from his seat, didn’t turn to face the audience. He simply looked across at the opposite table.
His voice had no inflection whatsoever. You might even call it indifferent.
And yet there was something uncanny in its power to command attention.
Ibi, like everyone else, found herself watching Cyrus intently.
He continued his argument as though all this focus meant nothing, his demeanor unchanged from always.
“The ‘Good Intention’ of protecting everyone. Then what exactly are people being protected from? Is it truly right for a leader—or those wielding power under them—to set that standard ‘for the sake of’ the common masses?”
The string of questions wasn’t truly seeking answers.
It spoke to universal values instead.
“There’s a famous scenario: if a theater fire is announced falsely as a ‘evacuation drill,’ the crowd won’t panic and will instead evacuate in order, all surviving.”
At Quinton’s story, Fabian’s partner’s hand was seen turning the page of his prepared Notebook.
He’d probably intended to bring that up himself.
“A ridiculous claim. Without accounting for the absolute variable that is survival instinct, people will dawdle, stuffing wallets and valuables from their bags into their pockets. And the price of that ‘false peace’?”
Quinton paused, looking at Fabian for a moment, then drove the wedge home in his voice.
“Everyone dies.”
After that, Fabian and his partner made several more arguments, but they gained little persuasive power.
No matter how they spoke of the Good Intention behind “falsehood,” they could not overturn the fact that it violated individuals’ basic rights.
The victor was clear to all, and the debate was declared closed.
Cyrus left the stage without a shred of emotion.
Ibi gathered her Notebook and headed backstage as well. As she escaped the bright light of the illumination, a small sigh of relief escaped her.
But then.
“Princess.”
A dark shadow blocked her path.
Ibi lifted her head with sharp eyes. The moment her gaze met Fabian’s, goosebumps crawled across her skin.
Raw hostility lay bare in his eyes.
Ibi accepted that gaze calmly, suppressing her fear.
“It seems my having my name stripped back then was quite amusing to you. To see you enjoying such games now.”

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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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