Chapter 676: Do You Think We're Poor?
Chapter 676: Do You Think We’re Poor?
(Planet Caorn- Jasimin Island)
(Mariena Hotel- Banquet Hall)
Sophie picked up the small microphone that was on the table and brought it to her lips with slow purposeful movements.
She did expect these kinds of questions.
It was impossible for these reporters to ignore the elephant that was in the room…
The fact that she was a hybrid.
“I am honoured to be chosen as the representative captain for Zrudread University. I am doing my best to follow in the footsteps of my father,” Sophie said calmly.
“As for your other two questions… I believe that all citizens of the Federation whether they be Humans, Mendolesa, Quafes, Servies, Hybrids or other races should have equal rights.”
Sophie paused for a moment as she thought about how to answer the final question.
She knew that everything that she said in this press conference would spread across the Virtual Net.
It was a tremendous amount of responsibility since she needed to represent hybrids in a positive way.
“And to answer your last question… I do not see myself as a figurehead for the hybrid rights movement or a rallying cry,” Sophie spoke with a serious expression on her face.
“The reality is that I have been blessed to be born into one of the wealthiest families in the Federation, so I have not suffered in the same way those like me have.”
“But if a hybrid boy or girl watching this tournament is inspired by my performance and begins to dream of a better life… that would make me happy.”
She placed the microphone back down on the table and the reporter sat back down on the chair.
Cameras at the back of the room flashed brightly and multiple recording devices pointed in Sophie’s direction.
“Okay! Thank you, Miss Peterlor for answering those questions! Let us move on to the next reporter,” the host cheerfully spoke.
He stretched out his finger and pointed at a woman in the back of the room. The process may seem random, but it was all for show.
The order of the journalists and the questions that they would ask had already been reviewed and approved by an independent committee.
This was to prevent any incidents from occurring that would tarnish the reputation of the tournament.
A slender woman wearing a light brown jacket stood up with a gentle smile on her face.
“Good day, my name is Alisha Jones, and I am from Newport Central Media Group. These questions are for Mr. Baileyleaf,” the journalist loudly spoke.
“Your specialty is dark magic. Can you tell me why you chose that major? Dark magic has an unpleasant reputation and very few mages in Mer University teach the subject.”
“Was there a reason why you decided to put your talents into…”
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Inya groaned as he raised up his head from the table and stared at the reporter with bloodshot eyes.
“Fuck. I got a fucking headache…”
There was an immediate awkward silence as everyone did not know how to react to the Servie boy’s shocking words.
Even the journalist froze in place with her mouth hanging wide open. The only sound that could be heard was a soft fit of giggles.
Sophie glanced in the direction of the noise and saw the blind girl holding a hand over her mouth and trying unsuccessfully to hold back the laughter leaking out.
Inya let out a heavy sigh and then tilted his head slightly upwards towards the microphone.
There were dark circles under his amber eyes, and he looked as though he was about to fall asleep.
“Alright to answer your question… it’s none of your business,” Inya growled darkly and then placed his head back down on the table.
“Um… okay! Let’s err… move… on…” the host sputtered as he tried his best to bring the mood back under control as murmurs filled the banquet hall.
Sophie was honestly a little bit impressed.
It took a special kind of person to completely not care about their reputation and fall asleep during a press conference.
The Servie boy’s chest gently rose and fell as he drifted away into dreamland. He didn’t even notice the reaction of the crowd to his unpleasant remarks.
“He’s a funny one!” Jessie leaned over to Sophie and whispered in a soft tone.
“I guess so,” Sophie whispered back as she tried her best to maintain a cold expression on her face.
Jessie giggled and then turned to Ryan and muttered something in his ears. She didn’t receive a reply from the arrogant young noble since he pretended not to hear what she said.
If Jessie was bothered by his cold attitude, then she did not show it since the small smile on her face never disappeared.
Danger!
Sophie froze as her instincts cried out for a brief second before immediately falling silent. The direction of the warning came from the blind girl sitting next to her.
It was only for a split second, but Sophie felt as though the shadow of death had briefly fell upon her body.
The small smile on Jessie’s face seemed to grow even wider as her muddy unfocused eyes turned to the host.
“Let us… move on…” the host stammered nervously as he pointed to a large muscular man sitting in the back row.
The reporter chosen wore a large white jacket that was still a little bit too tight for his bulky frame.
He stood up and reached into his pocket for a metalloid tablet. Despite his ferocious appearance there was a warm softness in his eyes that made him seem quite approachable.
“Hello everyone. My name is Darius Ross, and I am a reporter from the high-class magazine ‘The Federation Society’,” the reporter softly spoke.
“These questions are for Mr. Wilhelm.”
“Ahh… I am happy to answer them,” Ryan grabbed the microphone and spoke with a confident smile lingering on his lips.
The reporter appeared to be relieved by Ryan’s easygoing nature especially after what had just happened with the representative from Mer University.
He opened his mouth and began to ask the young noble a series of questions,
“Multiple Atlas University professors say that you have the greatest talent in swordsmanship since Duke Peterlor. What school of swordsmanship is your favourite?”
“Rumors have it that your father has promised to gift you three planets if you manage to win the Inter- University tournament. Is that correct?”
“And finally, what are your predictions for the tournament. In your mind who is your greatest competitor?”
“Those are some excellent questions!” Ryan responded with a grin as he puffed out his chest.
A contemplative look flashed across his face as he pondered about how to answer.
Finally, after several long seconds his fingers gripped around the microphone, and he raised the device up to his lips.
“I have no favourite school of swordsmanship. I’m naturally talented at all so they are really all the same to me,” Ryan boasted pridefully.
“As for that rumor… it is incorrect. My father offered to gift me five planets not three. Honestly just three would be an insult.”
“Do you think we’re poor?”