"Mr. Chairman," one of the judges leaned in and whispered respectfully to the man, "Miss Null did indeed pass away several years ago. You were hospitalized at the time, so you might have missed the news."
"Is that so?" the head judge murmured, a mocking smile spreading across his face.
Juniper bit her lip and scratched her head. She''d faked her own death for two reasons: one, to stop Tucker from constantly pestering her with questions, and two, because the World Programming Competitionmittee was unbelievably annoying, flooding her inbox with daily invitations to join their organization. Faking her death had brought her a world of peace.
"Tucker," the judge said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned back to the professor, "are you saying that after winning the championship, Miss Null took you on as her student, taught you her personally developed core programming concepts, and then died shortly after?"
"Yes, that''s right," Tucker nodded earnestly. "I had other questions for her, but she suddenly had something urgent to attend to. She gave me a book of her notes and told me to study it on my own. Not long after that, I heard the news of her passing."
"Hmph." The judge''s face darkened, his patience worn thin. "So you have no way of proving that Miss Null passed this core knowledge on to you?"
Tucker''s mouth fell open, his face flushing with embarrassment. "No, but I swear I didn''t giarize."
"Without evidence, you expect to clear your name by simply saying you didn''t do it?" another judge chimed in, his tone condescending. "Ourmittee has studied the core concepts you used in your work. None of us could replicate them if
we can''t do it, what makes you think a professor from your country could?"
"And why couldn''t I?" Tucker shot back, angered by the man''s passive-aggressive tone. "Just because you can''t do something doesn''t mean I can''t.”
“And another thing,” he paused, then continued, his voice firm, “my master was also from my country, and she was not even eighteen when she developed these core concepts. Don''t insult our people just because of your own ipetence."
.n
"You-!" The judge''s face turned crimson with rage. He swallowed hard and practically yelled, "Talk isz cheap. If you want to prove you didn''t giarize, there''s only one way have Miss Null herself vouch for you. Otherwise, not only will you be stripped of the championship, but you will also be permanently cklisted from the World Programming Competition for
academic theft."
Tucker froze, the color draining from his face. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but he knew it was futile. This was their turf, and this was the perfect opportunity for them to reim the title. Without proof, they would never believe him, no matter what he said.
After a moment of thought, he let his head hang in defeat. He had thought that by escaping the politics at home and finally reaching the world stage, he could showcase his years of research and bring honor to his country. He never expected this.
Seeing Tucker''s dejected silence, Byron felt a deep, satisfying release of the resentment that had been
building inside him. So this was the
great Professor Tucke
Just<pmon thief, passing off someone else''s brilliant work as his own. If Miss Null knew her core concepts had been stolen, she''d probably leap out of her coffin in a rage.