I gave a curt bow and backed out of the office.
Right up until the moment I slipped through the door, I felt his gaze lingering like a physical weight on my back.
Stepping out into the hallway, the tension finally drained from my shoulders.
Leaning back against the wall, I let out a long sigh.
“What are you doing, Yoon Seohyun?”
A voice I had grown far too familiar with.
It was Cedric.
He walked over, gave my backpack a casual nudge, and effortlessly hoisted it up with one hand. Jiggling the bag slightly, he asked,
“Why is this rattling so much?”
“……Lunchbox.”
At my reply, the corners of Cedric’s eyes twitched in subtle confusion.
……Are you surprised?
I’m surprised too.
Thanks to Lucian, my lunches lately had become absurdly, extravagantly luxurious.
Cedric looked like he wanted to press further, but seeing that we had reached the classroom door, he shifted his attention.
Standing right outside the entrance was Gongi, whom I’d parted ways with earlier.
She looked deathly pale and exhausted, but the moment she saw us, I could visibly see her regaining a shred of life.
“You’re here! My vitality supplements!”
……Yeah, she was definitely still out of her mind.
Drifting naturally toward the row behind Gongi, I asked,
“Where’s Ian?”
“Said she had some freelance work.”
“Freelance?”
“Ah, yeah. She takes on design gigs from time to time.”
“She’s a student, that’s impressive.”
Gongi nodded quietly, looking worn out.
Right on cue, the classroom door swung open, and Ludger walked in.
Impeccably dressed in a clean suit, his stride steady and unhurried.
Not a single detail out of place.
He walked leisurely to the front of the lecture hall and kicked off the class.
“Did everyone finish reviewing the alternative movie review assignment properly?”
A light murmur rippled through the students before quickly settling into silence.
Ludger scanned the lecture hall for a moment before opening his laptop and picking up the lecture.
From historical case studies of political diplomacy to the complex relationship between law and power—his explanations were just as riveting and easy to follow as always.
As the lecture neared its final stretch, Ludger slowly lifted his gaze and spoke.
“I have read through your reports with great interest.”
The classroom was instantly blanketed in absolute quiet.
Once the ambient noise died away, a voice—sharper and more resolute than during the actual lecture—filled the room.
“The grades for this assignment will be reflected in your midterm evaluations. Detailed evaluation criteria and feedback are noted on your individual score sheets, so please refer to them.”
Moments later, the teaching assistants began handing out the grade sheets one by one.
I looked down at the paper placed on my desk.
[A+]
My breath caught in my throat for a second.
……For real?
An A+?
From Ludger, a professor who handed out mountains of homework while grading with an iron fist?
Right then, a rustling sound came from beside me.
Turning my head, I saw Cedric clutching his grade sheet, frozen stiff.
And the grade printed on his paper—
[B+]
……What?
My eyes widened in sheer disbelief as I stared at Cedric.
……No, is this even making any sense?
This was the Second Prince, built with the literal “Genius” setting in Crown Maker.
The guy destined to claw his way up to the imperial throne entirely on his own merits.
In this reality, he was the secret successor of the Crown family and the top-ranking honor student in the Law Department.
Yet a guy who had completely mastered both political science and jurisprudence had just received a B+?!
Even though the movie specifically focused on ‘the law’?
I dropped my gaze back to my own paper.
[A+]
……Something was seriously, terribly wrong.
Maybe the grade sheets had gotten mixed up.
Flustered, I looked over at Cedric.
The fingertips gripping his grade sheet had turned white.
With a crinkle—the sound of paper crumpling—Cedric’s gaze sank icily.
Soon, feeling my stare, his eyes lingered on me for a moment before dropping back to his grade sheet.
Then, slowly, he lifted his head and stared straight at Ludger.
“I have a question.”
His voice was calm, but the edge hidden within it was razor-sharp.
As the lecture hall plunged into an even deeper silence, I could feel people all around us glancing sideways at Cedric.
Ludger met his gaze with leisurely ease.
A quiet look, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
“Go ahead.”
“I received a B+. I cannot accept the grading criteria.”
At those words, a murmur rippled through the students who had caught a glimpse of Cedric’s grade sheet.
Cedric was already a known entity within the department.
For him to pull a B+ was enough to cause a stir.
Amidst the commotion, Ludger quietly pushed up his glasses.
“Law Department, Cedric, correct?”
“Yes.”
“My grading method might be a bit unconventional.”
Ludger continued in a soft voice, but the meaning behind his words was anything but light.
“If the content written is thoroughly sound, honest, and close to a textbook exemplary answer, I give it a B. However, in Cedric-kun’s case, you submitted a text that was practically indistinguishable from my own thoughts. That is why I awarded you a B+.”
The students muttered and buzzed once again.
The fact that his thoughts matched the professor’s seemed to shock them—and that such an answer only warranted a B+.
Cedric didn’t budge an inch as he stared at Ludger.
“……Is it because my answer was ordinary?”
“Ordinary.”
Ludger gave a low chuckle. That laugh carried an oddly heavy significance.
“It’s hard to say many students share my exact train of thought. However, jurisprudence is never absolute. Political science and diplomacy are no different.”
He lightly tapped his fingertips against the desk as he continued.
“Just as there is no absolute correct answer in politics, the law is also fluid depending on the context. This does not mean the law can be arbitrarily changed. Rather, it means that the way law is applied and interpreted shifts according to the historical context and societal needs. Aren’t there countless instances where the exact same clause yields entirely different rulings depending on who applies it and how? Therefore, the law cannot help but be absolute and flexible at the same time.”
Cedric drew in a quiet breath.
“Is it because my report lacked flexibility?”
Ludger wore a gentle smile, yet that smile possessed a hidden sharpness.
“Do not misunderstand, Cedric-kun. Your report was brilliant. It is not because you did anything ‘wrong,’ but solely because you did ‘too well.’”
At those words, Cedric’s brow narrowed slightly.
