206 Impartial, Fair, and Open

At the same time, the locker room’s door was closed. Several team leaders sat on the chairs, looking at each other with gloomy and dark faces.

"What are we going to do now?" Glenn began. "Having been classmates so many years, we’re all familiar with each other. There’s no need to pretend. Our school has made the final order that we can’t keep the music history department in the next round. Don't you feel a little bit of pressure?"

Hearing this, everyone was speechless. He felt the pressure, she felt the pressure, and so did everyone else. But what else could they do? Forcefully?

No one thought that the music history department would survive until now. Who would have imagined that the publicly accepted rubbish team would happen to have no opponent twice? Staying until now had gone beyond the school board’s tolerance.

The four branches alone could not tolerate such a department, as obscure and at the edge of abolition as it was, to stand above them. Otherwise they would be the laughing stock wherever they went. Look! Those guys were completely destroyed by a team in the graduation trial…Thinking of this scene, everyone here felt a hit to their dignity and face.

"Even if we have the determination, we can’t do anything if we don’t win." Someone sighed. "It’s not that we don’t work hard, it’s just the music history department is too cunning."

"Hasn’t the student council come up with some regulations?"

Glenn looked to Cullen, who attended in the place Banner. He was the henchman of Gavin, the student president. Gavin had mostly resigned by now, but his influence on the student council was still huge. What's more, since the next president had not yet been elected, most decisions still depended mainly on Gavin.

From another perspective, the reason why the music history department could survive until now was mainly because of the student council. Unlike student councils in other schools, the student council of the Royal Academy of Music was part of the school management. In some cases, their control was even larger than some professors.

Including now, if the student council wanted to, they could even directly affect the arrangement of the game. They had so many ways to do that. The student council had been silent and low-key this entire time, as if they were transparent. Even the notorious executive office had more of a sense of existence than they did, which confused other concertmasters. What was Gavin’s plan?

Cullen was very clear about this. After being silent for a moment, he said quietly, "You do not have to feel stressful, just let them be. Even if they don’t follow the rules, they won’t keep at it for long."

"Are those Gavin’s own words?"

"It's just my guess." Cullen said, "The president has his own plan for the music history department."

In an instant, Glenn and others widened their eyes. When they exchanged glances, their expressions became somewhat complicated. Did that guy Gavin do all of this just to hand the history department over to his brother? It seemed like he was determined to make Banner his successor. He not only sent his most competent men to assistant Banner, but also gave him a shortcut. By that time, after having accumulated enough experience, Banner would naturally become the next president of the student council and have a stable status.

"What a good brother." Another bad-tempered leader sneered, and took the lead in leaving the locker room. "The Royal Academy of Music is just the background for these two brothers!"

When everyone left and the locker room became empty, the smile on Cullen's face faded away. His look became confused. What did the president mean? Even he himself could not figure out it.

-

"Is my brother going to give this department to me?" Below the drawing podium, Banner looked at Cullen. When he gazed at the guy snoring in the distance, his expression gradually changed from disgust at the beginning to cold. That was the coldness of completely neglecting and overlooking him. "Why didn't he come and talk to me in person?"

Cullen paused, squeezing out a smile. "Perhaps the president has more important expectations for you."

"Really?" Banner glanced at him and said lightly, "Well, since that group of failures is just there for the number, you can’t expect too much of them. Let me teach him what the world is like."

But beside him, Cullen saw the hostility flash in Banner green eyes and sighed. Why were these brothers so different?

"What are you looking at?" Banner seemed to be sense his gaze and suddenly turned back.

Cullen hesitated, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Then let’s go. Since it’s arranged already, we shouldn’t waste time." Banner took the lead to step on the platform. Cullen followed behind, but under his sleeves, his fists were clenched fists until his knuckles turned white. Like an illusion, he seemed to hear Banner scoff softly. In a place he could not see, Banner’s eyes grew cold. This time, Banner would not let that Eastern b*stard, who usurped his reputation, remain arrogant for too long.

-

"Is everybody here?" After two days of complicated matters, Sydney seemed numb. He looked at everyone here and that proud, disdainful dog, waving his hand feebly. "Then let’s begin to draw." It was the last round before the semi-finals and hopefully there will not be any problems."

"Wait!" An unsatisfied student looked at Old Phil and said, "The history department has sent a dog to draw for them several times. Are they unsatisfied with the school arrangements? Or do they look down on us? I think the music history department should give us an explanation, or else I refuse to continue to be insulted so..."

"If you don’t like it, you can go," the dog suddenly said lazily.

Everyone was stunned and they looked at each other. What the h*ll is this? A talking dog? And it sounded like a little girl? Soon they found that it was a music note on the dog's collar. Bai Xi stood in the stands, remotely controlling the collar. Her words were sharp as always.

"What do you mean?" The student’s face turned red. "Wanna fight?"

"I just don't like people saying nonsense in public." Bai Xi hummed. "The school approves, the principal approves, but you don’t? Who are you? Why don't you just kick us out?"

Old Phil was abnormally cooperative. It looked at the student disdainfully, doubling the mockery. Excellent! The student visibly began to breathe heavier. He almost shot fire with his glare.

"Enough!" Sydney huffed coldly. He slapped the table heavily and glanced at all present with his gloomy eyes. Finally he looked at Old Phil. "This time, the board will supervise the whole drawing process with a fair and impartial attitude. I hope you do not try to pass with a fluke but go all out." The words ‘go all out’ were squeezed out between his teeth. Anyone could tell how angry he was.

In the first two rounds, one simply reached his hand into the box and took out number. But this time, the three coaches from Modifications, Summoning and Revelations gathered around. The three people and six eyes stared at every hand that reached into the box. A dim light even shone in Egor’s eyes. He saw through the box with a modification formula and observed the whole process.

Surrounding by such onlookers, all the students who were going to draw felt very nervous. Under this situation, it seemed that once they made a subtle mistake, they would be killed.

Why were they so dramatic? It was just a soccer game, not a vote on the Parliament, which needed six musicians present to isolate all the aetheric influence for fairness…

The team leaders came forward to draw the lot under all the eyes. Every person who came to draw would be searched by the three coaches. Even the fat on the belly was not spared.

Finally, it was Old Phil’s turn. Facing three pairs of sharp eyes, Old Phil took it naturally and stepped forward as if nothing around him existed. Seeming to have sensed their scrutiny, Old Phil produced a disdainful snort from its nostrils. It raised its palm to flip over the box and bit the last board, then turned away. It did not even look at the three in the eye.

Both Egor and Ingmar’s faces darkened, but Ludwig, who was accustomed to animals, did not mind. Instead, he followed and began to look up and down at Old Phil with great interest. He mumbled Summoning terms as if he was analyzing Old Phil’s characteristics and body shape.

The more he looked, the more interested he became. He could not resist the urge to pet it. Old Phil looked back at him and opened its big mouth, revealing two rows of sharp teeth, as if saying, "Do you dare?"

Ludwig immediately withdrew his hand. Sensing the eyes of his colleagues, Ludwig felt a little embarrassed and smiled stiffly. "This dog is strange. It has a really bad temper."

Sydney coughed twice, motioned Ludwig to pay attention to his actions and then grew emotionless. "The draw is finished. Now, please check your opponents according to the list. If you have questions, ask now. No more questions will be allowed after the fact."

He lowered his head and coughed again. He hid his sneer at his mouth corner. Questions? What question could they have? With the three supervisors watching, all processes were fair and open. Even if he had secretly mobilized his authority as vice principal and influenced the result of the drawing through the Requiem enchantment...No matter what, the legendary luck of drawing empty two days in a row was ending for the history department. He had prepared the best enemies for them—the School of Royalty.

Soon the team leaders put their signs on the tree diagram. In the commotion, some people rejoiced, others wailed.

"No objections?" Sydney asked three times with a smile. Hearing no response, he slowly nodded. "Then the discussion is over. Everyone put your sign on the list and write it."

Under his anticipating eyes, Banner looked coldly up. Soon the crowd fell silent and slowly parted. In the silence, Banner stepped forward and hung the sign of the School of Royalty onto the first position. Besides the sign, a place was prepared for its enemy. That’s right, the place for the enemy.

He slowly turned back and looked coldly at that evil dog that was sunbathing. The dog sensed his eyes and glanced back at him. It seemed to sense everyone’s anticipation and the gleeful gazes. Old Phil looked back disdainfully, picked up the sign in its mouth and came forward.

It passed through the crowd and went straight past Banner. Before the tree-shaped diagram, it stood like a human being and gazed at the empty spot next to the School of Royalty. Then, according to the number on the sign, it hung the sign at...the outermost place of the list. For a moment, everyone was stunned.

"Wait a minute!" Sydney's complexion changed and shouted at Old Phil, who was about to turn away. "I’ve said before that you shouldn’t let a dog, which can’t even figure out what the number means, to draw. It doesn't even know where it is, does it?"

He turned, abruptly picked the sign of the music history department down, and hung it to the side of the Royal School. "It should…should…should… " He froze and his voice changed too. He looked down incredulously at the sign in his hand.

Should what? It should be hung beside the Royal School. But, how...how the h*ll did they come up empty again?!

"Empty."

"Empty?"

"Empty…"

Everyone looked at each other with a strange and ugly look. Finally, Sydney stopped stiffly and opened his mouth but he did not know what to say. What could he say?

He had dug the hole for himself and jumped in...The time for objections were long overdue! He said that afterward, no matter who had an objection, no one was allowed to dwell on it any more. Should he go back on his words in front of the whole school?

With a livid face, he put the sign back to the most outer place with difficulty. He turned back and announced hoarsely, "The history department drew empty again." For the fourth round, they had no opponent again…

The spectators were in an uproar. On the stands, Charles cheered while Bai Xi screamed. The Bench Guy was stunned. Ye Qingxuan…was still snoring.