[Herta's POV]
Everything is according to plan.
Two of my points were proven, the crowd was pleased, and the old geezer was completely folded. His conceited confidence had crumbled when he realized I hadn't come to play fair.
While I stood there, letting the air cool and the mutterings rise, my thoughts drifted back to yesterday evening, when everything had truly begun to move. Long before this debate ever took place, the pieces were already being set.
I was researching possible counterarguments and constructing my logical frameworks when I stumbled upon an entry in the Nascan Encyclopedia.
Zandar One Kuwabara, a name mentioned only briefly, in small print underneath the heading: Founder of the Genius Society.
That line alone intrigued me. He wasn't a current researcher or some honorary titleholder. He was the one who started it all. Curious, I set the debate material aside and dug deeper.
From one memoir to another, I began piecing together his true character. He was a visionary who aimed to enhance the kingdom's academic standards, believing that brilliance could be nurtured in anyone, not just the elite.
The deeper I read, the more certain I became—Zandar wasn't the type to judge a compelling mind, regardless of their status. I was sure of it.
So, when the delusional old man named Rubert II threatened to reject my device and hinder my progress with the Solitary Particle Theory, I took my best card from my sleeve and called out Zandar's name.
You might be wondering how this all came about.
Well, I decided to take a bold action and write a letter to Zander, telling him about the current circumstances and my relationship with my parents. My mother, Theresia, happens to be his former apprentice, which adds an interesting twist to the whole matter.
How did I know about this, you may ask?
Simple. While I was buried in textbooks last night, Mama stopped by to check on me. I calmly asked her about Zandar, and lo and behold, she admitted she used to study under him during her days at the Genius Society.
After that, everything went smoothly. I penned the letter, sealed it, and handed it to Marlene when she came to usher me to bed. By this morning, it was already out of my hands and had been sent to his.
Now, in the present, the crowd splits apart, a visible ripple through the masses.
And there he was.
Mister Zandar himself.
With slicked-back hair and a sharp suit, he stepped forward, his imposing figure carrying the air of someone who had seen the beginning—and shaped it with his hands.
The coat we wore had the silver crest of the Genius Society sewn near the shoulder—a twin-helix emblem wrapped around a sunburst.
His gaze swept over the workshop with piercing sharpness, assessing the room with expert precision, and for a brief moment, it landed on me.
No words have been exchanged yet.
But deep down, I knew—he was here for the debate.
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The workshop fell motionless the moment Zandar stepped forward.
It wasn't the sound of his shoes resounding against the floor or the sharp lines of his tailored coat that commanded attention, but the weight of his existence alone.
Conversations faded into silence, and even the clicking of pens, the rustle of papers, and the idle fidgeting of tools abruptly stopped.
From where I stood, it felt as if the very atmosphere dropped—like the pressure reducing in a sealed chamber. A cold clarity spread through the room, sobering every mind at once.
"Director Zandar?!" Rubert rushed forward, his voice shaking under forced composure. "What brings you to the workshop today?"
"I came here to visit," Zandar replied coolly. "Though I didn't expect it to be so disappointing."
Hearing that, the old geezer's face paled. "D-disappointing, sir?"
"To think that one of my senior researchers had the guts to challenge a four-year-old child to a public debate, only to lose miserably." Zandar shook his head, showing his disapproval.
He walked past Rubert, but the old geezer sprinted ahead and blocked his path again, visibly sweating like a sore loser.
"Please, Director Zandar, I'm begging you. I need your support here. You know me, I was only doing this to uphold the Society's—"
"Silence."
With a single word from the founder, Rubert froze mid-sentence.
Zandar walked around him without taking another glance, approaching me. For a moment, he simply studied my appearance, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened.
"You remind me of Theresia," he remarked, a tinge of nostalgia in his voice. "Both of you have the same eye color and unwavering look."
"I'll take that as a compliment, Mister Zandar," I replied, giving him a friendly smile. "My mama told me you're quite reasonable and steadfast, although a bit lazy sometimes."
A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips upon hearing my commendation.
Afterwards, his gaze shifted to the Hertascope behind me.
"Is that the device everyone's talking about?" he asked curiously.
"It is," I answered, barely glancing at the device. "And yes, I designed it."
"Really? What's its purpose?" he pressed further.
As I was about to start explaining, Rubert suddenly blurted out. "But, director, that device—"
"Quiet," Zandar commanded the old geezer before returning to me. "Please, continue."
With his consent, I presented to him the device's purpose, explaining that it was designed to observe and isolate patterns caused by particles smaller than magicules—entities predicted by the Solitary Particle Theory.
After I finished my explanation, Zandar nodded thoughtfully. He then turned his head toward my father, who was standing amidst the crowd.
"Well done, Albrecht. You and Theresia have raised a genius."
In response, my father sheepishly scratched the back of his head, flustered by the praise.
"Thank you, Director Zandar. It's my duty as a parent to educate my daughter."
Finally, the founder turned to Rubert, who has been shrinking inch by inch.
"You, on the other hand," he stated, "have done nothing but pettiness and immaturity. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
The old geezer's lips trembled, but no words came out.
"I thought so," Zandar affirmed as he turned back to me. "Now, young lady—what fate do you think a petty man like him deserves?"
Rubert's face turned pale, his composure shattered.
"Please, Director, don't! If you let that child decide, it would be unfair and unreasonable!"
Hearing his panicked voice, I couldn't help but smirk.
"Funny you would say that. You see, I have yet to prove my last point in this debate."
Zandar raised an eyebrow, curious about my statement.
"Oh? What would that be?"
"Well, I told him he's wrong with his impression of me and those whom he judged poorly."
"I see. Then prove to us this point of your debate."
With that approval, I took a step forward, letting my voice rise just enough to reach the room.
"A poor judge of character has no right to usher others in their growth. Not when this person fails to acknowledge potential simply because it doesn't fit the norm. An elite is supposed to be a role model for the next generation of geniuses, not an oppressive force to cause fear."
After I wrapped up my speech, Rubert recoiled at each word. The crowd fell silent, with some murmuring under their breaths, while Zander nodded in approval, clearly satisfied.
"Well said, young lady," he said calmly. "Now, let me ask once again, what fate do you decide for this petty man?"
Closing my eyes, I pondered what punishment I should give to this poor old geezer. Initially, I would give him the same treatment he declared on my father, and kick him out of the Genius Society. But that would contradict my last point, so I'll decide fairly for now.
"Then, I suggest this—strip him of his authority as an elite within the workshop and allow him to work under the scholars for a time, until he learns to judge with fairness, not prejudice."
Zandar remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"A measured and reasonable judgement. I accept your proposal."
Rubert staggered, his knees nearly giving away as his face contorted in disbelief.
"N-no... this can't be..."
The crowd looked at the old geezer with slight concern, but no one dared to defend him. The silence of the room said it all—everyone had already acknowledged the verdict.
Feeling the tension in the air, Zandar turned to face the other researchers.
"Let this serve as a reminder. Being a genius is not inherited through high status or sustained pride. It is forged through reason, curiosity, and humility."
Hearing his words, they exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions a mixture of shame, awe, and consideration. No one said a word—until a sudden clap broke the silence.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Sir Benjamin cheered, clapping enthusiastically.
My father and Mr. Bellum joined him next. Then a few other researchers followed, their hands slowly joining in unison, until the whole room filled with clapping.
This wasn't just approval—it's a validation of the verdict, Zandar's authority, and me.
With that, the debate concluded and resolved.
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The mood of the room shifted after what had happened. The tension that once overwhelmed the scene was replaced by solemn silence, with everyone watching me silently. Some looked apologetic, others were inspired, and even intimidated by my accomplishment.
It felt like the weight of judgment had lifted, leaving behind a new, uneasy respect.
Meanwhile, Rubert, who was still pale and shaken by the verdict, slowly trudged forward. His path was the exit behind me, with movements I could describe as a walk of shame.
As he passed by me, his gaze met mine, seemingly filled with resentment.
"Enjoy the spotlight while you still can, you brat," he murmured, clearly a threat towards me.
I didn't flinch. I simply met his animosity with silence, allowing my composure to speak louder than any refutation.
After the old geezer exited the room, Zandar quietly appeared beside me. I haven't detected his movement—no loud footsteps, no dramatic gestures. Just a calm and collected presence that I somehow predicted to approach me.
"Don't worry, young lady," he reassured calmly, his voice so low it didn't carry beyond me. "I'll make sure Rubert doesn't lay a finger on you."
Without waiting for my reply, he straightened up and adjusted his posture while glancing in a specific direction. Following his gaze, I spotted my father and his colleagues approaching us.
When they reached us, Zandar offered them a small nod.
"The young lady's device has potential, so I'll allow its integration into the workshop's central studies," he declared. "Have it evaluated for supplemental observation—we'll see how far her design can reach."
My father was stunned for a moment, then bowed slightly after regaining composure. "Thank you, Director. We will begin preparations immediately."
"Very well, I will take my leave then," Zandar responded as he turned away and glanced over his shoulder. "Also, continue to raise this young lady, Albrecht."
"Of course, Director, I'll do my best," my father vowed.
After that, the founder walked away towards the exit, leaving me and the group. Just then, I felt a hand suddenly placed on my head and ruffled my hair. I slapped away the annoyance and lifted my gaze, noticing Sir Benjamin beaming at me.
"That was amazing, little missy!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "You've completely shattered that bastard Rubert and held your ground like a proper scholar."
"I second that," Mr. Bellum added, arms crossed, though his eyes reflected a hint of curiosity. "You've proven something that grown men would ponder for years. Not bad... not bad at all."
As for my father, he didn't say anything at first, just looking at me with something warm in his eyes. Was it pride? Maybe. It could be solace as well. Eventually, he spoke with a low voice.
"You did well, Herta. I'm proud of you."
I gave him a small nod in return. No words needed.
Afterwards, I caught sight of someone lingering behind Sir Benjamin and Mr. Bellum.
It was that weird lady named Ruan Ling.
Her posture was hesitant, as if debating whether to move forward. But after a few moments, she made her decision.
The lady approached with no cold confidence or harsh sarcasm. Just a quiet and somewhat awkward look as she came to a halt in front of me. For a short moment, she just stared at me before finally speaking.
"...I was wrong about you," she admitted, her voice softer than I expected. "Initially, I thought you were just some self-proclaimed genius being paraded around, but you proved me wrong, not just Rubert."
I tilted my head slightly, intrigued by her statement. "Okay, what are you on about?"
"What I meant to say is... I'm sorry for doubting you," she elaborated.
Listening to her confession, a smile crept onto my face. It's about time she acknowledged the flaws in her thinking.
I gave her a brief nod with a calm expression. "Apology accepted."
Her eyes widened for a few seconds before regaining her composure.
"You know, back when your mother and I used to be research partners, I sincerely respected her brilliance and talent," she confessed. "But when she had you, I envied her."
I crossed my arms, mulling over her words for a short moment. That envy she carried—did it manifest after I was born, or did something occur after that? Either way, I must resolve this.
"There's no need to be envious, Miss Ruan Ling," I reassured her calmly.
She raised an eyebrow, confused for some reason. "What do you mean by that?"
"It means you have to move on and create your own little genius eventually," I explained.
Just as I said that, a dull sensation was felt on my ear. Glancing to my side, I found my father trying to pinch me, but due to my pain nullification, I barely reacted.
"What are you doing, Papa?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
He widened his eyes, surprised to see me react nonchalantly. "Well, I was trying to discipline you for saying inappropriate things, but it appears you hardly flinched."
"It's either that Sir Albrecht wasn't even trying, or little Missy doesn't feel pain," Sir Benjamin joked, leading him to get pinched on the ear by my father. "Aww! Aww! I was kidding! Aww!"
"Having pain tolerance aside, it seems Lady Herta had a point," Mr. Bellum acknowledged.
My father stopped pinching Sir Benjamin, focusing on the conversation. "And that would be?"
"Since the young lady showed us that age doesn't matter in being a genius," he explained, "it would make sense to produce more prodigies like her."
With that suggestion, the group was deep in thought.
Sir Benjamin whistled, rubbing his ear. "Guess it's time for me to get married soon and have a child of my own. Hey, Sir Bellum. Do you two have plans as well, right?"
"I still have reservations for that," Mr. Bellum denied, though he's the one who suggested it.
Pouting at his contradiction, Sir Bellum turned to the weird lady. "How about you, Miss Ling?"
She didn't respond at first, but muttered something to herself.
"Hmm... This could work."
Before we could deaw her back from meditation, Ruan Ling quickly turned around and walked away without excusing herself, leaving me to wonder what she thought of my advice.
Just then, another woman walked towards us. She has green, unkempt hair and wears large, round glasses. Her gaze swept across our group, eventually settling on me.
"You must be the young Genius who designed the new device, right?" she asked curiously.
I gave her a confident nod, confirming her question. "Yes, that's me."
"Really? That's great," she exclaimed, bowing slightly. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Patavia Adler Sommerville, and I am the one who proposed the Solitary Particle Theory."