Chapter 77 : Chapter 77

"Esteemed professors, fellow students, Your Highness!"

Andre first bowed to the high platform and the princess, his posture deliberately heavy, as if burdened by immense responsibility and sorrow.

He turned back to face Ryan, forcing a pained and indignant expression onto his swollen face. However, due to the misalignment of his facial muscles and awkward teeth, the expression appeared somewhat twisted and unnatural.

"Over the past two days, Comrade Wood and I have, with great sorrow, thoroughly investigated this heartbreaking accident." He raised the documents in his hand, and the paper rustled in the air, "All our efforts were aimed at one thing—seeking justice for the injured students and safeguarding the academy's safety!"

He took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress his agitation, raising his voice by several octaves. Though his voice carried a slight wind due to his discomfort, it still had a forceful ring: "And all the evidence, all the facts, point to one person—Ryan Velt!"

He slammed a document onto the table, producing a loud sound.

"First, the abnormal operations!" He pulled out a piece of paper, the tampered temperature record, "This is the original operation log retrieved from the laboratory! As everyone knows, the standard procedure demonstrated by Professor Horne required a constant temperature of fifty-eight degrees! But Ryan Velt, within just fifteen minutes, adjusted the temperature three times! From fifty-eight to fifty-nine, then back to fifty-eight, then to fifty-nine again! Such frequent and irregular changes are not normal operations; they look more like... experiments, or rather, carefully controlling his own crucible to prevent it from exploding, just like the others!"

He paused, scanning the room. He saw a few students in the audience showing expressions of realization or anger, especially the injured students, whose glares toward Ryan were filled with hostility.

"Second, the miraculous outcome!" Andre pointed at Ryan, his finger trembling slightly due to his agitation. "The explosion was so severe—twelve people injured, two seriously! Robert Fischer's hand was almost destroyed! Yet look at him—Ryan Velt, sitting right at the explosion site, just two stations away from Robert, and his workstation is practically intact! Not even a single scratch on him! Is this luck? No! This clearly shows that he knew an accident was coming! He knew how to avoid the greatest risks!"

Wood nodded solemnly from the side, his pale face tight with focus, supporting Andre's claim: "Exactly. This is too abnormal. We all learn the basics of risk management, but no one can be lucky enough to escape unscathed in such a close-range explosion unless... they were prepared."

With that support, Andre's momentum grew. He picked up several stamped documents.

"Third, and most importantly—the source of the inferior materials!" He nearly shouted, spitting out words as he did. "The ice crystal flower powder used in the accident came entirely from the Northern Star Guild! And that guild is owned and operated by the Velt family!"

He displayed the document toward the high platform: "This is a copy of the procurement contract from the academy’s logistics department. It clearly lists the supplier as the Northern Star Guild, with Viscount William Velt as the legal representative! This is the proof of the stockholding relationship between the guild and the Velt family! Solid evidence!"

"Ryan Velt, as the heir to the Velt family, a student of this academy, you know more than anyone about your family's business! Your family has been facing financial strain in recent years, and the Northern trading route is your most important source of income! To make a profit, you provided substandard ice crystal flowers—improperly stored and dangerously close to losing control of their magical properties—to the academy, which perfectly aligns with your family’s motives!"

"And you!" He pointed at Ryan again, his voice sharp due to his excitement and the air escaping his teeth, "You got a heads-up from your family, knowing the goods were faulty! That’s why you made those unusual adjustments in the lab, and that’s why you narrowly escaped the disaster! But, for the sake of your family’s business, to cover up your family's wrongdoing, you didn’t warn anyone! You didn’t report to the professors! You simply watched the accident happen, watched your classmates get hurt!"

He slammed the pile of documents onto the table, producing a loud "bang." His chest heaved violently, and his face flushed with a sickly red due to the mix of agitation and pain.

"This is the truth! This is Ryan Velt, a despicable person willing to sacrifice his classmates' safety and trample on the academy’s rules for the sake of his family’s profits!" His final words nearly became a scream, and he turned toward the high platform, bowing deeply. "Please, esteemed professors, please the academy, punish this criminal severely, and give justice to the injured students! Safeguard the purity and safety of Saint Roland Academy!"

His statement came to an end. The hall fell into silence, with only his heavy breathing echoing. Many of the onlookers' faces were filled with shock, anger, and agreement, their eyes shooting daggers at the defendant's seat where Ryan sat.

Wood stood up as well, his voice not loud but clear as he added, "We, the Garcia and Woodwood families, stand behind every accusation we have made today. We firmly believe that justice will prevail."

On the high platform, several advisors whispered among themselves. Dean Edgar’s expression was grim, and Professor Horne stared at his notes, his lips tightly pressed together.

Princess Cecilia Ishtar remained seated, calm as ever. She lightly tapped her fingertips on her lap, her gaze drifting thoughtfully from the passionate Andre to the ever-silent Ryan.

All the pressure, all the accusations, now focused squarely on Ryan.

He sat motionless, back straight, no fluctuation in his expression, as if Andre's fiery accusations were just the wind passing by his ears.

He didn’t even glance at Andre, only slightly lowering his gaze, staring at the empty table before him, as if waiting for something—or perhaps gathering his thoughts for something.

Until Dean Edgar’s voice broke the suffocating silence again:

"Plaintiff’s statement is complete. Defendant Ryan Velt, now it is your turn to respond to the accusations and present your evidence."

As Edgar’s voice fell, all eyes in the hall converged on Ryan. Within those gazes, there was doubt, anger, schadenfreude, and a few filled with complex emotions that were hard to define.

Ryan slowly stood up. His movements were slow, in stark contrast to Andre’s earlier outburst.

He didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he first straightened the papers in front of him that were not there, then retrieved a few items from his leather document bag—a rolled-up parchment map, several pages of written records, and a thin, plain notebook.

"Esteemed professors, Your Highness, fellow students." His voice was clear and steady, not loud, yet it had a strange penetrating quality that immediately quieted the residual noise in the hall.

"Comrade Garcia’s impassioned statement highlighted several facts. I have no intention of denying some of the surface aspects, but I would ask everyone to follow me as we examine another clue, another path, equally based on records, but potentially leading to a different conclusion."