I Became the Obsessed Ex-Husband in a Romance Fantasy - Chapter 150
"……."
Dane had been gazing at her intently, chin resting in his hand.
His eyes, usually so cold and piercing blue, were shimmering warmly like a summer sea in this one moment.
'Go on, make a mess.'
I've got your back. Whatever cleanup it takes, I'll handle every bit of it, so don't you worry.
No words passed between them, but Rose could fully read the support held in Dane's gaze.
'Ah…….'
In truth, Dane could have bounded up onto that podium at any moment.
He was a man who possessed the overwhelming might and authority to seize Professor Albert by the throat and force the truth from his lips.
But instead of stepping forward to tear her enemy apart himself, he stood silently at Rose's side, placing a sword in her hand.
It was the height of consideration—helping Rose sever the ties of her past through her own strength and stand tall.
'I know what you've been through, what wounds you carry. But rather than solving it for you, I wanted to help you solve it yourself.'
That confession Dane had once offered—clumsy, yet packed with genuine feeling—lingered slowly through her mind.
"Phew…."
From her fingertips, where Dane's warmth reached, the fear and hesitation that had been crushing Rose melted away like frost.
Rose gave Dane's hand a firm squeeze in return, then fixed her gaze on Albert with calm, settled eyes.
"I have a question, Professor."
Rose's clear voice sliced through the air of the lecture hall.
As Rose rose from her seat with elegant grace, dozens of eyes focused on her all at once.
"……."
A flash of bewilderment crossed Professor Albert's face.
'Hah, so she thinks she's a duchess now?'
A mere lady from a humble noble family, nothing more than a lowly undergraduate, had suddenly returned bearing a rank higher than his own.
No matter that Albert was a full professor at the Academy, a titled noble, and an elder wielding considerable influence in the magical studies community.
His opponent was none other than a Schumichel.
The pinnacle of power, monopolizing all distribution rights and mining of magic stones across the entire kingdom.
'Is she planning to crush me with her power?'
Even Albert himself currently relied on magic stones from Kalmar Mountain supplied to his own laboratory.
"Very well, Student Rose. A willingness to learn is always welcome."
Albert casually treated Rose as a mere undergraduate.
This was still inside the Academy.
Only here, regardless of the hierarchy dictated by birth, could he exercise his authority as a professor.
"What is your question?"
He had a rough idea why Rose had stood up so brazenly.
In truth, he had braced himself from the moment Rose and Dane first appeared in the lecture hall.
'She probably intends to claim ownership of that thesis.'
Albert felt not the slightest guilt or remorse toward Rose.
The thesis Rose had submitted was nothing more than crude basic formulas. It was Albert himself who had packaged them in academic language, refined them, and elevated them into a complete theory.
'No matter if she's a Schumichel, she can't just take the ownership of this circuit for free.'
Reputation and authority in the magical studies community were not things that could be suppressed by social hierarchy or money.
Moreover, he had thoroughly prepared, anticipating that Rose might raise an objection.
He had reviewed and memorized the formulas from Rose's original thesis dozens of times over, constructing a defensive argument capable of deflecting any academic question thrown at him.
"Anything is fine. Feel free to ask."
Albert put on a deliberately benevolent, relaxed smile of a teacher.
"Was this professor's advanced computation perhaps too difficult for an undergraduate's level?"
"Difficult? On the contrary, it's so familiar it's boring."
Rose's green gaze shot through Professor Albert's arrogant facade as if to pierce it.
"Regarding the three-stage phase transformation formula of the Cross-Circuit that you just wrote on the blackboard. May I ask how you derived the resulting value for the load rate when variables are substituted into that formula?"
Instantly, silence fell over the lecture hall.
It was a sharp, professional academic question that far surpassed an undergraduate's level.
'Hah! I knew it.'
But Albert, standing on the podium, rejoiced inwardly.
'Did she think I wouldn't prepare for that?'
It was the exact resulting value specified on page 14 of the original thesis Rose had submitted.
"A very sharp question, but it seems you haven't properly read this professor's thesis."
Albert tapped the blackboard with his chalk-holding hand and poured out an answer in a casual tone.
"When variables are substituted into that formula, the load rate converges to exactly '0.482.' It is the crucial number that proves the perfect balance of the Cross-Circuit. Well? Does that help you understand?"
"Ooh……."
The students marveled at Albert's flawless, confident answer, nodding repeatedly.
'No matter how much a nobody like you thrashes about, you cannot bring down my academic authority.'
Albert, having showcased his intellect, lifted his chin and gazed at Rose.
Clap, clap.
Eventually, Rose raised her hands and clapped.
"…What a perfect answer."
Not a trace of admiration was present on Rose's face. Instead, a mocking smile tinged with pity spread across it.
"It's completely identical to what was written in the thesis draft I submitted to you for review two years ago."
Instantly, the air in the lecture hall froze completely.
"Did you just hear that?"
"Professor Albert stole the thesis?"
The students started in alarm, looking back and forth between Albert and Rose.
This was no longer a Q&A between an undergraduate and a professor—it had become a confrontation over plagiarism.
"Student Rose, can you truly take responsibility for those words?"
Albert's face turned red and blue.
"Watch your words. This is this professor's—"
"And Professor. You've overlooked one crucial fact."
Rose cut off Albert's words without a single change in her expression.
"The load rate of 0.482 is merely a mathematical phantom that appears to fall within the stable range on the surface. If you actually substitute it and run a simulation, the circuit overheats and explodes. Did you know that?"
"Wh-what? That's impossible……!"
Albert's face, so composed until moments ago, stiffened in an instant. His once-confident shoulders began to tremble faintly.
'There was something like that?!'
Rose's question had not been an attack on Albert's ignorance. It was a trap she had laid, knowing he would answer according to the contents of the stolen draft.
A hidden error that only the true author of the thesis—one who had shed blood and sweat through repeated failures—could know.
The model answer Albert had so proudly spouted was itself the decisive confession that he had stolen someone else's work without even verifying it.
"I left that formula in the draft as-is because I wanted you, my supervising professor, to read and verify my thesis."
Rose spoke in a calm tone as she opened her leather bag.
"If you were a true researcher, it would have been only natural for you to experience an explosion the moment you tested that formula and correct the error."
Then she pulled a bundle of yellowed, faded parchment from the leather bag and scattered it toward the podium.
The students gathered the scattered papers and began examining them. Soon, gasps of shock burst from their lips.
"Whoa, it's real…! The entire computation process is included!"
"Then 0.482 isn't the correct answer?"
Those papers were filled with computations and formulas that no one but the true original author of the thesis could know.
"Yet you, Professor, stole this incomplete draft containing the critical error without changing a single letter and presented it to the academic society."
"What nonsense is this…!"
At Rose's rebuke, Albert flared up, his face flushed deep red.
"This is slander! Using these fabricated documents to——"
"If not, would you like to test it?"
Rose pulled out a magic stone from her garments. It was clearly of the finest grade from Kalmar Mountain, evident to anyone who looked.
"If I'm wrong, I will take full responsibility and withdraw. I will also apologize for today's disturbance."
"Th-that's……!"
Albert's mouth, which had been moving fluently until moments ago, froze completely. Cold sweat drenched his back.
'If I were to input that magic stone and——!'
If the circuit actually overheated and exploded, it would truly be the end.
It would not only become decisive proof that he had stolen Rose's thesis, but also blemish the Cross-Circuit that had been lauded as perfect.
"……."
Albert could do nothing but move his lips soundlessly, unable to move forward or retreat. There was no escape route in sight.
"What? Is it real?"
"No way. A professor stole an undergraduate's thesis?"
"After lording it over everyone with that thesis all this time…!"
As the silence stretched on, the quiet lecture hall filled only with students' whispers. The students were now looking at Albert with eyes full of contempt and suspicion.
"I demand that you voluntarily withdraw the 'Cross-Circuit Theory' thesis you presented to the Academy's academic society, effective immediately upon the conclusion of this lecture."
It was Rose's quiet voice that silenced the uproar.
"Furthermore, I formally request that you publish an official apology in the academic society and re-publish the thesis, clearly stating that the true original author and sole author is myself, 'Rose Schumichel.'"
"Y-you… insolent……!"
With his escape route completely cut off, Albert finally lost his grip on reason.
Bang!
He threw the chalk and slammed the lectern violently.
"How dare a mere undergraduate threaten a professor?! You've grown blind with the power of the Schumichel name behind you!"
It was a desperate thrashing, like a cornered rat biting at a cat.
"I'll concede a hundred times over that you scribbled that meager basic formula first! But that was nothing more than a novice's crude doodle!"
"……."
"It was I, Albert, who refined and completed that crude doodle and presented it to the world! With the insight of a supervising professor added, it's only natural that it's my thesis!"
Gasps erupted from students throughout the lecture hall.
"If I hadn't published this thesis in the first place, do you think that pathetic formula would have ever seen the light of the academic world?! You ought to spend the rest of your life prostrating yourself in gratitude for your teacher's grace!"
"……."
Dane furrowed his brow. The moment he gripped the chair's armrest to stand—
Bang!
The heavy oak door of the lecture hall was thrown open violently as if it would shatter.
"You haven't changed your bad habits, Albert."
Every gaze in the lecture hall turned toward the door simultaneously.
There stood a man with a haggard complexion, his disheveled hair hastily swept back.
"I-It's Anersen-nim……!"
"Why would Anersen-nim be here……!"
It was Anersen—a living legend of the Academy, the highest authority in the magical studies community, and Albert's longtime peer.
"Plating stolen goods with a bit of gold leaf doesn't make them yours, you know."
As Anersen walked down the lecture hall steps, Albert's face drained of all color in an instant.
"Anersen……! W-why are you here……!"