"You're a clever child."
"So clever, in fact, that I'm beginning to question whether the White Room's philosophy really works..."
Sakayanagi Narimori rubbed his temples as he studied Kitagawa Ryo across the table, his expression mixed and troubled.
"The White Room's ideology doesn't hold up. If anything, Arisu and I are the same type—prodigies by birth."
Ryo spoke while casting a sideways glance at Sakayanagi Arisu, who sat beside him. Since the end of the culture festival, he could feel her interest in him had skyrocketed yet again.
Clearly pleased by Ryo's earlier statement, Arisu gently swung her pale, slender legs as she sat on the sofa, her mood visibly cheerful.
"I agree with Ryo. His excellence is due to innate talent. If the White Room's education were truly effective, he wouldn't be the only one to stand out."
"No, no, there are still many friends in the White Room who are just as capable as me—"
"You can drop the act. You just want to protect the few you care about, right?"
Arisu chuckled softly. It only took her a moment to deduce why Ryo had mentioned those two other White Room students by name earlier, even including their hair and eye color descriptions.
She casually opened a few trending posts on her phone. With a little encouragement from vested interests and cooperation from the Sakayanagi family, the names of Advanced Nurturing High and the White Room had spread like wildfire.
After all, Advanced Nurturing High had become one of the most talked-about elite schools in the country over the past two years. In some ways, the White Room had simply latched onto its popularity.
Due to its unique structure—limited annual admissions, near-perfect graduation/employment rates, massive funding, and full-boarding system—Advanced Nurturing had always been a double-edged sword in the public eye. Supporters praised its results; detractors condemned its exclusivity. Online debates constantly raged, making it a consistent hot topic.
To some in the upper echelons of society, however, the current buzz was more than gossip—it was a signal.
Advanced Nurturing High had long been a prized project of the Kijima faction. The former director—Arisu's grandfather from the Sakayanagi family—was a key figure in Kijima's political machine. The school's high investment and publicity were part of a mutually beneficial arrangement: Kijima needed a shiny success story; the school needed Kijima's funding and support.
Every year, controversy over Advanced Nurturing's resource consumption would flare up—yet the school endured.
By contrast, few recognized the name "White Room" when it emerged. But the surname "Ayanokouji"? That was easily traced to rising lawmaker Ayanokouji Atsuomi—favored successor of Naoe Jinnosuke.
Connect the dots: with years of political tension between Kijima and Naoe over the Prime Minister position, this drama suddenly gained serious weight.
The two factions dominated domestic politics. Many neutral observers, eager for chaos, were happy to stir the pot just to watch the fallout.
Ironically, even some members of the Naoe camp had never heard of the White Room. One overly eager junior politician, thinking this was his big break, made vague insinuations supporting the White Room's superiority—completely unaware of the program's dark history.
Online speculation exploded. Clips of Ryo from Class 3-A's festival spread rapidly. Tabloid blogs dissected every word he said, milking the trend for all it was worth.
Naturally, the two other White Room students Ryo had named became hot targets. A well-known tabloid soon published a dramatic headline:
[Insider Leak! Prodigy Ryo Isn't Even White Room's Best—So Who Is?!]
Looking at the phone Arisu passed to him, Ryo couldn't help but laugh.
But this was exactly the outcome he'd aimed for from the start.
It was a challenge—thrown straight at the White Room.
By weaponizing public opinion and raising awareness, Ryo gave those other students a platform. If his presence stirred up enough noise, their names would keep surfacing—just as this article had done.
Still…
Ryo hadn't expected this level of chaos. Many festival guests had been political and financial elites like Kanzaki and his son. The buzz he created had exceeded his expectations.
"Honestly, I only fully realized the impact at that moment," Narimori muttered, ruffling Ryo's hair. At first, he had feared the boy had been brainwashed by the White Room—but that moment had snapped him out of it.
From start to finish, Ryo had always felt disgust toward the White Room. And yet, he still cherished a few of those within.
Narimori considered this a good thing. It proved Ryo, though raised in that cold place, still retained strong emotions. Love and hatred—basic, but powerful.
"There's no helping it."
Knowing he'd need the Sakayanagi family's help going forward, Ryo dropped all pretense.
"I don't have the power to destroy the White Room. I believe I'll someday become strong enough to end it with my own hands—but by then, who knows what it'll have become? How many more like me will have suffered?"
Time wasn't on his side. The kids inside couldn't wait that long.
"If I tried exposing it directly through my own story, even if I succeeded, everything connected to me would be erased."
In this simulation, Ryo had no impressive background. The "Engagement Contract" item hadn't yet proved useful. If he acted alone, he'd likely vanish without a trace.
At best, Atsuomi would offer a hollow apology and bury every file and subject tied to the program.
The White Room needed to be publicly presentable. That meant its prototype phase—the test subjects—had to be wiped from the record.
To Atsuomi, it was simple: success would make the program a historic achievement; failure would make it a scandal.
And Atsuomi was not a man who tolerated failure. He had gambled everything—ten golden years of his life, even his son—on the White Room.
"That's why Ayanokouji Atsuomi can't back out."
"And why he must go along with my performance."
"He's already placed all his chips on the White Room. There's no second chance."
In real time, Atsuomi had invested two decades—his political prime—into the project. That explained his obsession with Kiyotaka.
Only a near-perfect subject like Kiyotaka could validate the sacrifice. Prove the White Room's worth. Prove Atsuomi's success.
Narimori nodded slowly, studying Ryo with admiration.
"Truthfully, from the moment I first met Ayanokouji-sensei, he's never changed."
"Ambitious. Relentless. Unyielding."
"That drive brought him to Naoe's attention—and earned my respect."
"He's always been a man who pulls chestnuts from the fire."
"And this public spotlight we created? It's not necessarily bad for him or the White Room."
Avoiding mutual destruction meant giving your enemy hope—a chance to escape their own web of ambition.
"Still, Ryo… what made you so sure I'd side with you?"
At that, Narimori's smile faded. He stared seriously at the boy.
Despite his love for his daughter, despite any guilt over Ryo's past, he was still the head of the Sakayanagi family.
Noticing the shift in tone, Arisu frowned slightly and quickly tried to defuse the tension:
"Because Papa said that if Ryo kicked the drug habit, he'd be family. F-A-M-I-L-Y!"
Narimori chuckled. He hadn't expected the boy he casually rescued to turn around and drag the whole Sakayanagi family into the storm.
"Because there are only two ways to surpass others," Ryo replied, meeting Narimori's gaze.
"Improve yourself—or tear others down."
"...It's hard to imagine what you went through in that place."
Narimori fell silent for a moment, then laughed, rubbing his forehead.
"Fine. I acknowledge you."
"So, what's your next move?"
A forty-year-old man—Arisu's esteemed father—now looked to a child for direction.
Ever since Ryo topped the leaderboard, Arisu's view of him had shifted. But watching her father speak with Ryo like an equal adult? That still threw her.
He wasn't the sickly boy she once nursed back to health. He stood now as someone worthy of standing beside her father.
As Narimori asked his question, Ryo—already prepared—flashed a smile.
He looked toward Arisu, ready to speak.
But the image of another girl suddenly surfaced in his mind.
He recalled a bright afternoon.
"Have you ever heard of the mystery novelist Ellery Queen?"
-------------------------------------
"Ellery Queen?"
Kitagawa Ryo took a light sip of black tea as he casually flipped through the book the girl handed him.
"Of course I've read his work—he's a legendary mystery writer. Whether it's the 'Nationality Series' or the 'Tragedy Series,' I've read them all."
"Ugh..."
Shiina Hiyori, the silver-haired girl, tilted her head in frustration before slumping over the table like a deflated balloon. She mumbled softly:
"Exactly how many mystery novels has Ryo read? And he still claims not to be a mystery geek..."
"What if I told you I read them just to have more things to talk about with you, Hiyori?"
Ryo spoke with a grin, setting his teacup down and leaning forward so their gazes met across the table, clearly enjoying her reaction.
"Ryo, you're just way too—d-e-d-i-c-a-t-e-d."
Deliberately elongating her words to cover her embarrassment, Hiyori lightly tapped the spine of the book against Ryo's head in protest.
"You know, Ellery Queen's real-life story is pretty exciting too—almost like a mystery novel in itself."
"There you go showing off again."
"I only show off this kind of stuff when I'm with you."
"Hmph..."
Seeing Hiyori so easily flustered, her cheeks slightly puffed in that adorable way, Ryo decided to stop teasing her and shifted to storytelling mode.
He knew full well that a mystery lover like Hiyori was no stranger to Ellery Queen's background. But sometimes, the point wasn't the story itself.
With his chin propped up and the golden afternoon sunlight filtering in, Ryo's voice was just as warm and gentle:
"Ellery Queen was actually a shared pseudonym used by two cousins. That is, Ellery Queen wasn't one person—but two."
"In 1932, they published The Greek Coffin Mystery under the name Ellery Queen, which quickly made them famous. Then, they used another pen name, Barnaby Ross, to release The Tragedy of X—and even had this new persona openly provoke the former."
"Both novels were extraordinarily well-written. The feud between the two names stirred up massive controversy and drew intense public interest. The entire American mystery community was in an uproar."
"They even wore masks and held public debates as these two separate personas—while continuing to release new works from both names. Every new title became a bestseller thanks to the hype."
"This clever charade lasted for four years before it was finally exposed."
"Sure, their books during that time were genuinely excellent—but the four-year ruse brought them even more fame and profit."
"That's what I call: I out-grind myself."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
To Read Advanced Chapters, and support this novel, please join me on [email protected]/geats2000