Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
James's anger burst forth like a flood, almost uncontrollable. He was completely engulfed in his emotions, all reason consumed by rage. His face turned crimson, his tone sharp, and his words came out faster and faster, as if each one was a weapon meant to tear apart the student before him. He no longer cared about his image as a professor and had completely forgotten his social standing in this situation.
"You have no idea what a true historical figure is!" James's voice grew louder, almost roaring. "Caesar's every move was calculated; he wasn't just some barbarian swinging a sword! He didn't establish a fleeting empire but a civilization that lasted a millennium! His reforms changed the entire political structure of Rome, laying a solid foundation for future generations. And Alexander? Just a young brat who conquered the world with his father's army, utterly incomparable to Caesar!"
His words struck the student like bombs, filled with disdain and fury. In his mind, there was only one goal—to use all his knowledge and historical insight to utterly crush this insufferable nerd. Each sentence was like a sharp dagger, leaving no room for rebuttal. His eyes blazed with the fire of anger, fingers gesturing wildly in the air as if he could force compliance through sheer motion.
"What does it matter that Alexander conquered half the world? His empire quickly fell apart! What achievements did he leave behind? Cultural fusion? That was brought by the Greeks themselves; Alexander was merely an ambitious fool charging ahead!" James was nearly out of control now, his words growing harsher, like an invisible knife slicing through the air. He had completely forgotten he was speaking to a student and lost all sense of decorum expected of a professor. The only thought in his mind was to obliterate this dimwit before him with his knowledge.
And what of the student? He showed none of the frustration, panic, or embarrassment that James had anticipated. Instead, he stood there quietly, expressionless as he listened to James's tirade. His gaze reflected an unusual calmness, even tinged with curiosity, as if he were enjoying a performance—the star of which was James's gradually unraveling madness.
James's words flowed faster and faster, seemingly unstoppable. His voice echoed in the empty room, rising and falling in pitch, filled with anger and contempt. At that moment, he had completely lost the poise and politeness expected of a professor, forgetting entirely that he was facing a student rather than an academic rival. His face twisted in rage, movements became increasingly frantic as he descended into near madness.
The student's gaze remained fixed on him as if every outburst from James was anticipated. He stood there silently absorbing all of James's fury without uttering a word or offering any rebuttal. His expression appeared calm, yet there was an odd satisfaction glimmering in his eyes as if he were relishing James's loss of control.
When James finally realized he had lost composure, his hands froze mid-air. His mouth hung open as if wanting to say something more, but the words caught in his throat. His thoughts were forcibly yanked back to reality; echoes of his earlier furious remarks reverberated in his mind, replaced by deep confusion—what had he just done?
His hands slowly fell to his sides as if they had suddenly lost strength; it felt as though those intense emotions had evaporated in an instant. He stood there dazed, mind swirling in chaos. James couldn't understand why he had lost control or why he had become so agitated when facing an ordinary student. He should have remained calm and rational, maintaining the demeanor of a scholar; yet that surge of anger had burst forth like a beast unleashed from its cage, causing him to forget entirely who he was and where he stood.
Clearing his throat to mask his earlier panic and embarrassment, his expression quickly shifted back to calmness despite the turmoil within him. He struggled to steady his tone and adopted a softer voice as if that explosive outburst had merely been an illusion. "I... got a bit carried away," James began, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to appear rational and composed. "I was simply... stating historical facts; these debates are quite normal."
He fought against feelings of shame and unease while attempting to regain some semblance of authority as a professor. He knew that his earlier behavior had been nothing short of disgraceful—completely at odds with the image he had cultivated over time: that of a calm, wise scholar who controlled everything. But all he could do now was strive to salvage some dignity.
James looked up at the student before him, hoping for some reaction—perhaps surprise or even embarrassment from him. However, what unsettled him further was that the student continued to stand there expressionless, gazing at him with an unchanging calmness reminiscent of their earlier confrontation. There was no mockery or reproach in those eyes; only an unusual tranquility as if James's earlier explosion and madness were utterly inconsequential to him.
This made James even more uneasy, as he felt as if he were being scrutinized and judged by invisible eyes. He swallowed hard, forcing out an apologetic smile, hoping to end the awkward situation. "I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away earlier," he said softly, trying to make his tone sound sincere. "I just have a deep understanding of history, and sometimes I get a little too invested. I hope you can understand."
The doubts and unease swirling within James continued to churn, but he could only choose to bow his head in apology, attempting to rationalize his earlier outburst. He struggled to maintain his composure, yet deep down, the feeling of losing control lingered.
Just as James finished his apology and tried to ease the atmosphere, he suddenly heard a cold laugh from the student. The laughter was chilling and jarring, causing James's heart to skip a beat. He looked up to see the student's lips curling into a slight smirk, exuding an inexplicable coldness, with eyes filled with a peculiar insight as if he could see through everything.
"Professor, that was the real James, wasn't it?" the student spoke coldly, his tone sharp with mockery yet laced with an underlying respect. This sent a jolt through James, causing him to instinctively furrow his brow, sensing something was amiss.
"Do you think you can hide your true self and pretend to be that charming, composed professor?" The student's voice was slow and calm, but each word struck like a sharp knife, piercing into some dark corner of James's soul. "No, that anger, that shouting, that near madness you displayed earlier—that is the real you, isn't it?"
James felt a weight in his chest as panic flickered in his mind. He didn't know what this student was talking about, but those words seemed to hit upon something buried deep within him. He wanted to argue back but found himself at a loss for words.
The student continued without pause: "James Quinn was once a renowned archaeologist in academia, right? You opened door after door of history with your intellect and methods, revealing countless secrets. Your achievements are innumerable—you uncovered the remnants of ancient civilizations and unraveled the mysteries of lost temples; each accomplishment placed you at the pinnacle of academia."
James's heart began to race as he sensed the student unveiling his past—those times he himself was reluctant to mention. The student's voice was low yet filled with an all-knowing power as if he had intimate knowledge of James's history.
"But what lies behind these great achievements?" The student chuckled softly, his gaze sharpening as if dissecting James's soul. "You are not merely someone who seeks knowledge for its own sake, Professor. You are someone who would stop at nothing to achieve your goals. In your quest for success, you are incredibly selfish and ruthless—you don't care who gets hurt along the way or about those so-called moral boundaries. Your goal is to stand at the peak of academia and look down upon everything—and you have done it."
James's throat suddenly felt dry; he wanted to refute the claims but found those words cutting mercilessly into the most concealed corners of his heart. He could not deny that deep inside him lay an unquenchable thirst for success and obsession that had never faded away. He truly was someone who would go to any lengths to achieve his objectives—whether in academia or life itself; he would fight fiercely for his own interests without hesitation.
"Do you think you can disguise all of this?" The student's voice grew sharper as if every word echoed in James's ears. "You are not one of those rule-abiding professors; you are a man filled with obsession—a person who cares little for others' feelings in pursuit of your own success. And it is this very obsession and selfishness that form the foundation of greatness. You should feel proud because these are qualities that great individuals must possess."
James stood there, filled with confusion and fear, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn't comprehend how this student knew so much about his past or why he could pinpoint the darkest corners of his soul so accurately. Those words acted like a mirror reflecting back all that he was unwilling to face. He had once believed he could hide behind the facade of being a professor while maintaining poise and reason; however, at this moment, those hidden obsessions and desires were laid bare under the sunlight without any cover.
Comment 0 Comment Count