Lanqi's Trap Question

Seeing Hyperion's reaction, the corners of Modan's mouth curled slightly, yet there was not the faintest hint of warmth in his eyes. "Hyperion... no one is going to watch the back of a filthy thing like you. But I don't mind, because you lack the ability to defy me." The contempt in his gaze made it plain that he already viewed her as a plaything trapped in the palm of his hand. "Sooner or later, you'll come begging to me. After all, you know perfectly well that you'll never find your father on your own... But when that day comes, you won't have a shred of dignity left. I promise you." He lowered his voice, murmuring beside Hyperion. His sole purpose had been to humiliate her, and now he had dropped all pretense. "..." Hyperion clenched her fists, biting down on her teeth so hard that she could not utter a sound. Even with deep, irrepressible fury raging inside her chest, she refused to give this bastard the satisfaction of a response. She knew all too well that without the strength to pose a genuine threat, any retort or defiance was nothing more than empty bluster. It would never intimidate him; it would only amuse him and spur him on. Even if Hyperion wanted to challenge Modan to a duel, defeat him thoroughly, and teach him a lesson, she lacked the power to do so. As a third-year Gold-rank registered challenger in the School of Sages, Modan was leagues ahead of her in combat strength. What was worse, she had to forfeit this crucial first year without being allowed to challenge the Shadow World. The gulf between her and Modan would only widen with time. "It seems I was right. You don't even have the courage to stand up to me." Seeing Hyperion reduced to silence, Modan appeared thoroughly satisfied. He let out an unmasked chuckle, as though savoring every second. His intermittent laughs were not merely an insult; they were a deliberate trampling of her noble heritage and pride. "The grand ducal lady once hailed as Hutton's prodigy of the century now has to rely on a shoddy lawyer just to squeeze through the Ikerite Academy entrance exam. How pathetic." At those words, Hyperion seemed finally pushed past her limit, glaring daggers at Modan. "Oh? Did I strike a nerve?" Modan narrowed his eyes, knowing she had taken the bait. This ducal lady could endure cutting remarks directed at herself, but attacks on her friends were the one thing she could never stomach—he understood her all too well. Just as he was about to continue toying with Hyperion's emotions— "Wait a second..." A slightly drowsy voice broke in, pulling their attention away. The exchange between Modan and Hyperion seemed to have awakened Lanqi. He had been terribly sleepy, drifting in and out of a light daze, but when he caught this fellow named Modan taking an indirect swipe at him, the situation took on an entirely different nature. Lanqi turned his head, heavy-lidded, resting his cheek on his arm as he stared at the pair who had been talking. "Classmate... Modan? You really ought to read through the Ikerite Academy Student Handbook. You shouldn't have called Classmate Hyperion a 'filthy thing' just now. Page 35, line 13 clearly states that launching personal attacks against fellow students violates school regulations." The casual words drifted across the lecture hall, and the sudden interruption brought an abrupt stillness to the air. Hyperion glanced over instinctively. Lanqi remained slumped over his desk, looking as languid as ever, yet something about him was distinctly different. Modan frowned down at the boy murmuring with lowered eyes. Beneath the half-closed lids, those emerald-green pupils glinted faintly like polished gems. Modan hadn't even noticed someone quietly sleeping right beside them, let alone that the rumored black-haired, green-eyed rule stickler was sitting right here. Judging from Lanqi's tone, however, the newcomer was intent on interfering. That drew a cold sneer from Modan. "So what if I launched a personal attack against her? What are you going to do about it?" Modan's voice turned frosty as a winter gale, laced with an implicit threat. Everyone knew that toothless rules like these were all bark and no bite, never resulting in any real punishment. Lanqi's intervention sounded as childish and laughable as a toddler threatening to tell on someone to an adult. Hearing that, Lanqi finally lifted his head and sat up a little straighter. He was now fairly certain that this Modan fellow took immense pleasure in mocking others, unable to resist snapping back the moment someone offered the slightest provocation. Pity he was a complete amateur when it came to psychological games. "Did you know? Hutton Kingdom recognizes the crimes of insult, defamation, and the crime of insulting a noble. Strictly speaking, before either of you formally inherits your titles, the third charge cannot establish criminal liability; at most, it would be treated as a civil dispute. However, Miss Hyperion's application to inherit the ducal title was almost certainly filed when her father went missing, and it is merely held up in cumbersome administrative processing. Once it is approved, according to the statutes of Hutton Kingdom, the date she becomes a duchess will be calculated retroactively from the day of submission. At that point, she will be fully entitled to prosecute you for insulting a duchess through vicious personal attacks and flippant remarks. With so many witnesses present, you won't be able to wriggle out of it. Whether you end up facing a fine or jail time will come down to your attitude when admitting guilt." Lanqi's voice remained calm, yet beneath that placid tone lay a solemn weight, like justice casting an inescapable net. As his words settled over the room, the scattered murmurs of conversation vanished, and the lecture hall froze in place. Every student in the room—some eavesdropping, some curious, others openly staring—turned their eyes toward the back row. An upperclassman coming into a new class's lecture hall to chat with a promising newcomer was standard practice once term began. Even so, Modan's behavior had made quite a few students uncomfortable; the exchange between Modan, the marquis's son, and Hyperion, the duke's daughter, was clearly far from a friendly recruitment. Yet it was Hyperion he was targeting, and no one dared get involved in the tangled private feuds of high nobility. No one wanted anything to do with this ill-omened ducal lady, and even less did anyone want to cross Modan, an influential, powerful upperclassman team leader. And now, the top freshman of the School of Sages couldn't stand by any longer, choosing to confront the marquis's son head-on! In truth, many of the listeners understood that the offenses Lanqi cited carried little real menace; at worst, they could be resolved with an admission of fault and a modest fine. What made Lanqi's maneuver so infuriating was this: If he truly pushed the matter and won the suit, leaving Modan—the distinguished son of a marquis—with a criminal record for an offense committed while at school, the disgrace would brand him for life, turning him into a laughingstock among the nobility forever. However... Modan Gaxiges was not an easy man to push around. Even now, Modan's expression had not wavered in the slightest; he was utterly unfazed by Lanqi's legal lecture. When Lanqi finished, Modan merely chuckled. "Lucky Lanqi Wilfort. I know you know a little law and love to 'stand up for justice.' But that sort of petty cleverness won't work on me. In fact, I could just as easily turn around and sue you for defamation and causing a public disturbance." His eyes narrowed with amused condescension, scoffing at Lanqi's naivety and foolishness. As a high-ranking noble, he understood the 'crime of insulting a noble' far better than Lanqi ever could. Even with witnesses present, whether something counted as an 'insult' remained a matter of subjective interpretation. If they actually faced each other in court, Lanqi would have no objective way to prove that Modan had acted with malicious intent to insult. While Hutton Kingdom maintained strict laws and efficient judicial procedures, it was by no means as fanatically harsh as the Holy Kingdom within the Shadow World of Winter's Hidden Flame. Certain charges were notoriously difficult to make stick—unless one had an overwhelmingly brilliant legal master to back them up. "I insulted her? How are you going to prove that to a magistrate? Can you read my thoughts and intent?" Modan sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "You admitted it yourself," Lanqi answered mildly. "...?" Lanqi's response caught everyone in the classroom off guard. Yet the realization dawned on them almost immediately. Right at the start, Modan had indeed asked Lanqi: *'So what if I launched a personal attack against her? What are you going to do about it?'* It was over. Modan had walked straight into Lanqi's trap!