Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Upon hearing this, the two blond designers laughed even more brazenly.

One of them crossed his arms and looked Emily up and down with a sweeping glance.

Then he turned to Beatrice with contempt, speaking in a mocking tone, "Talent? An unknown newcomer whose name no one in the industry has even heard of, making it to the finals of a competition at this level—if it's not through men or sugar daddies, could it possibly be through these empty words of yours?"

The mocking laughter around them grew louder. Many onlookers nodded along, their eyes full of disdain as they looked at Beatrice, as if they all believed she'd slept her way to the top.

Emily trembled with rage and was about to step forward again, but Beatrice pressed a hand on her shoulder.

Beatrice took half a step forward, positioning herself in front of both Emily and John.

Without a trace of panic on her face, she looked calmly at the two disrespectful Eldorian designers, "You keep saying I got into the finals through men. May I ask, what evidence do you have?"

The blond designer clearly hadn't expected her to confront them so directly. He froze for a moment, then sneered.

He looked down at Beatrice condescendingly, his eyes full of contempt, "What evidence do we need?"

"The fact that you have no background, no credentials, no awards, yet you're standing here—what other explanation could there be besides being kept by some rich old man, having a sugar daddy pave your way with resources?"

As soon as he said this, gasps echoed all around. His words weren't mere mockery anymore—they were blatant insults.

John's expression darkened instantly, and he was about to step forward.

But Beatrice stopped him with a single glance.

Beatrice looked at the man before her, a cold smile curving her lips.

"First, you use appearance and age to dismiss my professional abilities, defaulting to the assumption that women can only achieve success by depending on men, completely binding women's professional worth to men. That is outright gender discrimination."

"Second, you use my background to preemptively label me as someone who got ahead through underhanded means, using narrow-minded stereotypes to deny the hard work and talent of all Novarian designers. That is blatant racial discrimination."

She swept her gaze across all the onlookers, her voice rising sharply, "This international design competition is supposed to be a fair stage for talented designers from around the world to compete."

"But in your eyes, female designers' achievements can only come from men, and Novarian designers' qualifications can only come through crooked means."

"You're not just insulting me personally—you're insulting the fairness of this competition, insulting all the female designers present, insulting all Novarian professionals!"

Her words rang out powerfully, and the surroundings fell instantly silent.

Many female designers who'd been watching the spectacle now looked at the two blond men with anger in their eyes.

Several Novarian contestants also frowned, clearly siding with Beatrice.

The blond man's face turned the color of liver, and he shouted furiously, "What nonsense are you spouting! When did I discriminate based on race or gender? Stop slandering me!"

"Whether it's slander or not, everyone present heard you loud and clear."

Beatrice raised an eyebrow and calmly pulled out her phone, swiped to activate the recording function, and pointed the camera directly at the man.

A faint smile played on her lips, "Since you dared to say it, don't be afraid of people hearing it! I'll post what you just said, along with your face, on Instagram, Twitter, and all the major design forums."

"Let designers around the world see what kind of values you, a well-known Eldorian designer, actually hold. I'll make you famous. How does that sound?"

These words were like a sharp blade, instantly hitting the man's Achilles' heel.

In today's Eldorian design circles, racial and gender discrimination were absolute red lines that could never be crossed.

Once tainted by such accusations, one's career would be completely destroyed.

Forget awards or commercial projects—even brand partnerships would be immediately terminated, resulting in complete blacklisting from the industry.

The man's face turned deathly pale. Looking at the phone Beatrice held up, his eyes reddened.

Without thinking, he lunged forward violently, reaching to grab Beatrice's phone, "Bitch! Give me that phone! Delete it! Delete it now!"

Before his hand could touch the phone, a large hand seized his wrist in a crushing grip.

John had somehow positioned himself in front of Beatrice, the force in his hand nearly enough to shatter the other man's bones.

His tone was icy, "Foul mouth, and now you want to use your hands?"

The man screamed in pain, his face contorting.

The other blond designer wanted to help, but Emily glared at him fiercely.

Surrounded by angry stares, he stopped in his tracks, not daring to advance.

"Let go of me!" The man was sweating from the pain but remained stubborn, shouting at Beatrice, "What right do you have to record me? This is slander! Defamation! I'll sue you!"

"Slander?" Beatrice shrugged, leisurely waving her still-recording phone. "Every word you just said is clearly recorded in here."

"The racially discriminatory remarks were your own words. The gender discrimination was also your own speech. How does that make it slander on my part?"

"This is the age of social media—not an era where you can condemn someone with just a few words from your mouth!"

The man's body froze instantly, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

Only now did he realize that in his moment of loose lips, he'd said the most unspeakable things—and they'd been recorded on the spot.

If this video really got out, his life would be completely ruined.

The murmuring around them started up again, but this time, the target of mockery had become him.

"Oh my God, he actually said those things. That's way too much."

"Exactly. No talent himself, so he just mocks newcomers and engages in racial discrimination. How does someone like that even qualify for the finals?"

"I think he's the one without ability, just looking for a sense of superiority through geography and gender."

Hearing the surrounding discussions, the man panicked completely, his previous arrogance evaporating entirely.

He softened his tone, addressing Beatrice, "I... I misspoke just now! I didn't mean it that way!"

"I'm not racially or gender discriminatory! I take back what I said! Delete the video and I'll apologize to you! I'm sorry!"

"Now you know to apologize?" Beatrice laughed coldly, not a trace of sympathy in her eyes. "You say you're not, so you're not? Words once spoken, water once spilled—let the public judge what really happened here."

With that, she put away her phone without sparing another glance at the two men whose faces had turned ashen, and turned to look at David, who stood to the side at a loss.