Mr. Hammond scoffed at Morgan’s insistence, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Alright then, you im there’s a student tip–off? Show me the proof.”


    Seemingly prepared for this challenge. Morgan calmly responded, “Due to privacy concerns, all I can disclose is that Mirabe definitely had prior ess to thepetition questions.”


    At the mention of thepetition material, Mr. Hammond’s gaze on Morgan shifted, now tinged with a hint of intrigue. He opened his mouth to Interject, but Morgan continued unabated.


    “I must admit my doubts about Miss Mirabe,” Morgan stated firmly. “How could a humanities major possibly outperform Vincent in our Prodigy ss in science and math?”


    “I’ve reviewed thepetition questions myself. The majority areplex, science–based problems. Without having studied specific preparatory materials in advance, I find it hard to believe that a humanities student could answer them all correctly,” Morgan dered with confidence. After all, he had been nurturing minds for two decades, encountering a myriad of students. He’d met all–rounders in both arts and sciences before. Lacking the ability to sniff out a hint of deceit would mean he’d spent those years in vain.


    The physics teacher, who had been listening intently to Morgan’s words, suddenly disyed a


    peculiar expression. He nced at the stack of papers he was holding, pondered for a moment.


    and then decided it was time to chime in. Standing up, he approached Morgan and handed him a sheet of paper, clearing his throat, “Ahem, Morgan, take a look at this.”


    Caught up in a crucial discussion with Mr. Hammond, Morgan was slightly irked by the interruption, yet he patiently epted the paper. “What is this…” Before he could finish his sentence, his eyes locked onto the contents of the paper.


    Morgan, a math teacher with a firm grasp of physics, was stunned by the solutions outlined on the sheet. After a prolonged silence, Morgan looked up at the physics teacher, “Who solved this problem?”


    “It was Vincent who brought this to me just now,” the physics teacher replied, his tone casual.


    Mr. Hammond, unable to resist, leaned in to examine the paper, filled with equations and symbols that made sense to him only as a physics problem, but beyond that, he was lost. Though he did not know the physics teacher’s intention in bringing up the problem at that moment. Mr. Hammond chose not to interrupt.


    Upon hearing Vincent’s name, Morgan’s face lit up with surprise and delight, “Vincent solved this? Even the student recruited by the Ivy League powerhousesst year couldn’t produce such an elegant and clever solution, right?”


    A wave of excitement surged within Morgan, but before he could finish his thought, the physics teacher interjected. “This problem wasn’t solved by him.”


    Morgan paused, his gaze fixed on the physics teacher, and after a moment, he regained his


    The physics teacher carefully smoothed out the creases on the sheet before slowly revealing two words: “Mirabe Davis<b>.</b>”


    Morgan’s eyes widened in disbelief, his first instinct to shake his head. “Impossible! That’s a question fromst year’s Physics Olympiad. How could she possibly solve it? You must be joking?!”


    He could believe anyone else might have solved it, but Mirabe… that was something he refused to ept.