High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1181 - 243 Constructive Discussion

Chapter 1181: Chapter 243 Constructive Discussion

After attending the "Seven Sins" meeting last time, Sir Friedman had been fretting over the mission issued by the Sin Bearer.

The second task wasn’t too bad, Lord Kannai gave him half a year to prepare, so at least for this academic term, he didn’t need to worry too much about it.

But the first task was quite the headache.

Ending the Fishman Tribe’s farce and maintaining the stability and unity of the school—tasking a student from a secret society with such a mission was already a farcical matter to begin with. Moreover, the longstanding disputes between the two academies went beyond just ideological differences in educational philosophy and academic systems.

The deeper conflict lay in Jiuyou Academy’s attempt to reclaim the millennium of glory and challenge the new order that Alpha Academy had established over hundreds of years.

Had Sir Friedman been asked to stir up trouble between the two academies, he could have come up with a hundred different schemes.

But to mediate the discord between them, he suspected that the moment he opened his mouth, he would be incinerated by the towering flames of fury from within Alpha Fortress.

Considering the sensitivity and difficulty of this matter, after much contemplation, he eventually chose to start from an inconspicuous corner. He pushed his cousin, who possessed characteristics of both Alpha and Jiuyou Academies and was closely connected to him, to the forefront as a representative and a test.

If the task succeeded, all would be merry; if not, with Matthew Karen’s status as a first-year student, he wouldn’t likely be deliberately targeted.

Hearing his cousin ask if he had a concrete plan, Sir Friedman’s lips turned downward in a troubled expression, "Almost none."

As he spoke, he raised the glass of blood-red wine in his hand and made a comparison, "Now when students from the two academies meet in the Hunting Ground, they’re like the bulls in Pamplona in July, simply charging red-eyed without any regard for tactics or skill, the more brutal the fight, the louder the cheers and applause they win."

Pamplona was a small city in Spain, famous for its annual Running of the Bulls.

"It’s as if someone shoved a red-hot iron skewer up their backsides, sir!" the cheval mirror interjected excitedly. It had, at some point, shaken off the blanket hanging on it, revealing half of its mirrored face.

Sir Friedman’s face paled, and his lips were tightly pressed.

Matthew twitched his mouth, "That’s a really terrible analogy."

He silently mourned for the mirror for a few seconds. If he guessed right, after he left the resting room, his cousin would surely smash that impertinent mirror to pieces.

"... But there’s nothing impossible with a little human effort." Sir Friedman stiffly turned around, picking up the blanket again and firmly covering the mirror—this time he wrapped it with a slender ribbon several times—while grinding his teeth, he said, "Proper appeasement and methods can always calm them down... from being bulls of Pamplona to domesticated Sacred Cows of India."

The Sacred Cow of India was known around the world for its pacifist spirit of ’suffering insults without retaliation.’

"Proper appeasement and methods?" Matthew echoed softly.

"Make the students from both academies believe they have won." Sir Friedman added.

This was difficult, nearly impossible; nobody was a fool. Matthew Karen muttered to himself, yet he lacked the courage to shatter his cousin’s unrealistic notion.

"How can we make both sides believe they have won?" Matthew tried his best to make his question seem sincere.

"Propaganda," Sir Friedman tapped the rim of his wine glass, listening to the ’ding ding’ sound it made, and said softly, "The same glass will emit different tones when you tap it in different places. What we must do is choose the sounds that students from both academies love to hear and play them for their ears."

You need to own majority stakes in both the Campus Newspaper and Beta Town Post, Matthew Karen muttered to himself.

"Of course, this is just an idea... which is why I just said ’almost impossible,’" Sir Friedman quickly shifted his gaze from the glass back to Matthew, "but I hope you can play your part in this."

"You are a student of Jiuyou Academy, but your spirit also belongs to Alpha Academy, and that’s your strength. You can completely unite classmates like yourself to become the glue between the two academies."

"Sir Alfred Tennyson once said, ’Kindness is greater than a crown, belief is mightier than bloodline,’"

A touch of compassion for humanity gleamed on Sir Friedman:

"As true Alpha People, we hope that our stance gains the support of more classmates, but we do not wish for this support to be built on chaos, bloodshed, or even sacrifice."

"Belief is mightier than bloodline." Matthew chewed on these words, his thoughts suddenly veering off course.

He realized how he should solve the dilemma that had troubled him for so long. Since he was already a part of Jiuyou Academy, he should fight for the beliefs of Jiuyou.

The discussion between the two young members of the Blood Race did not last long.

After understanding his cousin’s thoughts, Matthew Karen quickly chose an appropriate moment to take his leave, not wanting to disturb his cousin for too long.

Before leaving, he remembered the busy figures in the corridors of Alpha Fortress and he asked casually:

"When I passed by the third floor corridor of Alpha Fortress on my way here, I saw some people hanging silver curtains... What are they doing?"

"There’s a small gathering of the Blood Comrades happening on Wednesday; they are setting up the stage for the speaker," Sir Friedman took the hot towel handed to him by a Sprite, wiped his hands, and then shook his head, complaining, "They had more elegant options available."

Matthew had no idea what his cousin meant by more elegant options—he tended to think it was just his cousin’s habit of criticism—and he was not at all interested in the small gathering, but he certainly did not let it show:

"It seems quite promising."

He pretended to be somewhat interested in the event.

"It’s a complete waste of time and money," Sir Friedman criticized bluntly, "Every one of these gatherings only strengthens the hatred between the academies, widening the rift between them... It’s beyond me why the academy would permit such behavior. And to top it off, Sepulano, that prejudiced fellow, is in charge of these matters."

Matthew raised an eyebrow inwardly.

He was unsure whether his cousin’s anger was because the Blood Comrades put Sepulano in charge of the aforementioned matters, or because his cousin was truly worried about the growing hatred between the academies. He felt it was more likely the former.

"Isn’t that how societies function?" Matthew said softly in consolation, "By constructing a tangible, not imaginary enemy, they aim to unite friends and partners; adorning the academy’s emblem with their language, slogans, and visions."

Sir Friedman looked at his cousin in surprise.

"It seems you have already learned how to converse in the adult world." His expression was not without admiration, "Using those grandiloquent and hollow words to construct your viewpoint, making clichés appear more elegant."