The digital scoreboard in the middle of the arena flickered with a sharp red light, displaying the brutal and lopsided final result of Group G. The number in the Middle School International Highfield column stood tall with a perfect score, while their opponents drooped at zero. Kevin and his team sauntered down from the stage with their chins held high. The sound of their shiny leather shoes hitting the floor created a rhythm of sickening dominance. They left behind the stage which still retained the chilling air of their opponents' mental destruction, who now could only bow listlessly under the spotlight of the capital city. The competition continued to roll rapidly. In the previous rounds, the audience had witnessed an absurd sight. Elite schools from various major cities tumbled down one by one. Academic monsters who usually dominated the national podium arrogantly, this time had to pack their bags early with faces full of disbelief. The cause was only one: A small school from a

"Second Question," continued the host. "Category: World General Knowledge." "Who is the architect who designed..." Ting! Before the question was finished being read, Raymond had pressed the bell again. The projection on his glasses had displayed the full question before the host read it. "Gustave Eiffel!" Raymond answered loudly. The host fell silent for a moment, looking confused because he had not mentioned the name of the building in question. "Sorry, Highfield Team," interrupted Professor Yohanes sharply. "The question is not finished yet. I have not mentioned what building. How could you know the answer is Gustave Eiffel?" Raymond's face paled instantly. Kevin froze. "Ehh... t-that... because Gustave Eiffel is usually asked the most, Professor!" Raymond evaded nervously. "Wrong," said Professor Yohanes coldly. "The question on my card is: Who is the architect who designed the Parliament Building in Bandung District?" The building went silent instantly. "The answer is M

Mr. Winston was still stunned, his face pale. "W-we... we are still alive?" "We are, Sir. Just a falling lamp," Kaelan answered lightly, as if he was just hit by a pillow. Kaelan then turned his head. Over there, at the Team Highfield podium that was still standing intact, Kevin froze. Their distance was only separated by about ten meters. Separated by the smoking carcass of the spotlight and glass debris. Kevin's face was paler than a corpse. His legs trembled violently until his knees knocked. Beside him, Raymond had fallen sitting on the floor while holding his head, heavily shocked seeing the explosion just now. Kevin could not believe his own eyes. He saw clearly that the lamp fell. He heard the sound. That was half a ton of solid iron! What kind of physics law could make a person survive that impact without becoming pulp? And now, Kaelan stared at him. Under the dimness of the red emergency lights, Kaelan's eyes looked aflame. That stare was not a human's stare. It wa

A deep and authoritative voice broke the commotion. Professor Yohanes walked quickly up to the stage, followed by two other judges and several core committee members. The senior physicist's face was flushed red holding back anger. His footsteps stomped hard on the wooden floor. Kaelan turned his head, then politely handed over the glasses. "Please, Professor. Be careful, the technology is expensive. It would be a pity if it breaks before entering the criminal museum," Kaelan said flatly. Professor Yohanes snatched the glasses roughly. He held them under the light, rotated them, then brought his eyes closer to the inner lens. Everyone held their breath. The camera zoomed in the picture towards Professor Yohanes's face. One second. Two seconds. Professor Yohanes's face turned into disgust. He pressed a small button on the stem of the glasses, and a mini holographic projection radiated out, displaying a row of answer texts for the previous questions. "W-what is this..." Professo

Brutus lunged forward. That sharply curved knife blade aimed at Kaelan's neck. A deadly attack at zero distance. However, in Kaelan's eyes, that movement was slow like a snail. When the knife was only one centimeter from his neck's skin, Kaelan did not dodge. His hand moved. TAP. Kaelan caught Brutus's wrist. Gripping it strongly. "Only this much?" Kaelan asked coldly. Brutus's eyes bulged. He tried to pull his hand, but Kaelan's grip was as hard as an iron vise. His wrist bone felt like it was going to crush. "L-let go..." Brutus groaned inwardly. "You know..." Kaelan brought his face closer. A terrifying aura of domination exuded from his body, making Brutus's knees tremble. "In the place where I come from, a person who tries to touch me... the punishment is getting their hand cut off." KRAK! Kaelan squeezed a little. "AAAAKH!" Brutus was in pain as his wrist bone cracked. The karambit knife fell clinking onto the asphalt. Brutus roared, but he was not an amateur. Pain