Ethan faltered, his tone losing its earlier confidence. "We already had someone from the Faculty of Computer Science and Technology to check it. There are signs that someone accessed the faculty office computers. And as far as I know… Henry from Class Seven has some… special technical skills, doesn't he?"
The accusation landed hard.
Henry's expression darkened instantly.
Riley let out a soft laugh. "So just because Henry is in Class Seven and knows a bit about computers, you've decided to pin the entire exam leak on them?"
No one answered.
Because that was exactly what they had done.
They had asked the Faculty of Computer Science and Technology to trace the intrusion—but found nothing. So they made an assumption: Class Seven was the most likely culprit.
And more importantly—
If someone had to take the blame, Class Seven was the most convenient choice.
Their reputation was already poor. What was one more accusation?
Better that than risking another scandal like years ago, when an entire faculty had been dismissed.
Weighing the consequences, everyone had silently gone along with the decision led by Vice President York and the faculty office.
Now that it was being called out directly—
They had no justification.
Riley smiled faintly, shaking her head.
Sometimes, people's choices are enough to break trust completely.
If the university had already accepted Class Seven and allowed them to exist within Imperial University—
Why treat them with such prejudice?
At that point, it would've been better not to admit them at all.
Beneath her mask, her lips curved slightly.
"What if I can prove that the Class Seven students are innocent?"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "And how do you plan to do that?"
Riley didn't answer him. Instead, she turned to the group of lecturers behind her. "Is there a computer science lecturer here?"
A middle-aged man, Professor Graham Whitlock, in a plaid shirt stepped forward. "I am."
Riley nodded. "If I can trace the IP address of whoever hacked into the faculty office computers and identify the person behind it—would that prove the Class Seven students' innocence?"
"Of course," Professor Whitlock replied.
But Ethan hesitated. "The other lecturers couldn't find anything…"
"I said I can," Riley cut him off.
Vice President York frowned. "And if your investigation still leads back to the Class Seven students?"
"Then I'll accept whatever punishment you decide," Riley said calmly. "But if I clear their name, Vice President York, shouldn't you give the Class Seven students a proper explanation?"
Vice President York paused, clearly not expecting her to push back so firmly.
He glanced at Ethan.
After seeing the subtle nod, he finally agreed. "Fine. If you really uncover the truth, you'll have done a great service to our university. I'll personally write a formal apology to the Class Seven students—and it will remain posted on the university's official website for all four years."
"But," he added, "you must clearly identify both the IP address and the person responsible. Otherwise, you lose."
"Deal."
Riley didn't hesitate.
She asked Professor Whitlock to observe, then walked to the front-left corner of the lecture hall.
Her slender fingers flew across the keyboard.
On the projector screen, lines upon lines of code cascaded rapidly—dense, complex, almost hypnotic.
Professor Whitlock sucked in a sharp breath.
Impossible…
Since when did this university have someone this skilled?
Meanwhile, the students of Class Seven were practically buzzing with excitement.
Wow—this looks insane!
The scrolling code danced across the screen like a symphony of moving notes, igniting a surge of adrenaline in everyone watching.