Everyone in the industry knew that many of the techniques used in Miss Null's work were her own original creations, protected by intellectual property rights. Using them without her permission was a severe case of plagiarism-a cardinal sin in the programming world.

Did Tucker really think that just because Miss Null had retired from the scene and was largely forgotten, he could use her work freely?

"Mr. Tucker, please explain these similarities," the head judge demanded.

Tucker glanced at the comparison on the screen and answered bluntly, “Miss Null was my master. She taught me some of her techniques before we parted ways."

His words were met with a wave of derisive laughter from the audience. His master? Everyone knew Miss Null was a self-made genius who had burst onto the scene, competed as an individual, and then vanished. After winning, she hadn't even shown up to accept her trophy, leaving only a note telling the committee to wire her the prize money. She had never been seen in public. Despite numerous invitations from the committee over the years, she had never reappeared.

How could a professor from Orient Country possibly know such a legendary figure, let alone call her his master? He was clearly just making up excuses for his plagiarism!

"Mr. Tucker, that excuse is laughable," a judge said, his lips twisting into a cold smile. “If we all plagiarized something and then simply claimed the original creator was our teacher, could we get away with it too?"

"I'm not lying," Tucker retorted, his temper flaring. He hated being misunderstood more than anything. "Miss Null really was my teacher, and she gave me study materials. The techniques I used in 'Glimmer' are the result of my own research and development, not a direct copy."

Besides, Miss Null had never taught him step-by-step, nor had she ever given him a USB drive with her work. Even if he had wanted to copy it, he wouldn't have known where to start.

“Hah.” The judges didn't believe a word of it. At this point, they had one goal: to disqualify this insufferable professor from Orient Country That way, the championship would naturally go to the contestant from Froskia Country, and the long-held trádition of Orient Country's inferiority in programming would remain unchanged.

"Mr. Tucker, you claim Miss Null gave you study materials..." the judge began, a mocking expression on his face. "Let's not even get into how difficult it would be to master her techniques, the sheer amount of time and energy it would require. Even if you did manage to fearn itell yourself... what proof do you have? Can you prove that she was your master and gave you those materials?"

"Let's do this, the judge continued.

"We'll give you five minutes to contact Miss Null. Since you were her student, you must have a close relationship. As long as she personally confirms that she gave you her materials to study t accusation of plagiarism will be dropped, and the championship will still be yours."

"Contact my master?" Tucker froze, his mind going blank. “Miss Null passed away years ago,” he stammered. “What am I supposed to do, hold a séance and summon her from the grave?"

"She passed away?" The judge sneered, feeling increasingly certain that this man from Orient Country was mocking them and the rules of the competition. "How convenient that she's dead!"

Sitting in the audience, the supposedly dead and now resurrected Miss Null blinked. This was a bit awkward. It looked like she might have to perform a little resurrection, right here and now.