Business is business.
Even if Sam's "Malik" surname truly turned out to be related to Gideon Malick, it wouldn't interfere with this cooperation.
...
In the Grand Auditorium, Kahn and Matt visibly breathed a sigh of relief when Locke finally appeared. Better safe than sorry. They knew Sam Malik had called him out, and they had been worried Sam might pull an underhanded move—like knocking Locke out to force a forfeit.
While unlikely, given that the entire Trinity team had collapsed from food poisoning the night before their match, reality had already proven itself to be stranger than fiction. If it happened to Trinity, it could happen here.
"He's back," Kahn and Matt looked at Locke as if he were a returning war hero.
Locke gave them a suspicious glance before walking over to Gwen. "What's wrong with those two? Did the stress break their brains?"
Locke was fully prepared to carry this team 1v4 to a god-tier victory, but he planned to be subtle about it. Showing off wasn't his style when he was trying to quietly grind missions. *Be low-profile as a person, but high-profile in your results.* That was Locke's motto. As long as the outcome was good, the process didn't matter.
Gwen brushed them off and whispered, "Did Malik say he's dropping out to support you?"
Locke looked at her. "You truly are a world-class campaign manager."
Gwen smiled, but her expression quickly turned serious. "Did you agree?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Locke didn't like losing. Trading a promise to do something he already intended to do for an opponent's withdrawal was a win-win in his book.
Gwen rubbed her forehead and lowered her voice. "What were you thinking?"
"What's the problem?"
"With Sam Malik out, it's just you and Nina Bell."
"And?" Locke thought about it and looked at Gwen, puzzled. "With one less opponent, aren't my odds higher?"
Gwen looked him in the eye and shook her head. "No. Your win rate just dropped."
"What the hell?"
"You don't believe me?"
"A little."
Usually, going from a three-way race to a head-to-head with the support of the third party means an expanded advantage, not a decrease in probability.
Gwen sighed. Cindy poked her head over. "What are you two whispering about? The match is about to start."
"Locke just made a campaign deal with Malik," Gwen said.
"What?" Cindy's volume spiked before she quickly hissed, "God, Locke, did you actually do that?"
Locke blinked. Gwen explained, "Do you know why Malik wanted to drop out, aside from your lead in the polls?"
Locke frowned, a realization dawning on him.
"There was an article on the school forum yesterday," Cindy said, pulling up her phone and showing it to Locke. "It accused Sam Malik of racial bias."
Locke took the phone. The article was long and expertly written to stir emotions. It didn't state things outright but used the football team as a case study. It pointed out that since Sam Malik became captain, the team only reached the Super Bowl finals in his first year; last year, they didn't even make the top sixteen.
The evidence? Photos of the team roster from year one versus now. The author's implication was clear. There was even a verified comment from Nina Bell.
She stated that if elected President, she would immediately push for a "reform" of the football team, claiming Midtown High was a temple of education where "inharmonious elements" should not exist.
Locke looked up. Gwen continued, "Now that Sam is out, you're the only target left. Do you think Nina won't use the same tactics against you, especially knowing you just met with Sam?"
It was obvious the article hadn't appeared by accident. Even though the official campaign period hadn't started, the mudslinging had. It was just being masked by the hype of the Knowledge Competition.
Finding dirt material on an opponent was a standard political maneuver. Locke had expected it.
He handed the phone back to Cindy. "Gwen, if I hadn't made the deal, wouldn't our strategy have been to just watch Sam and Nina tear each other apart?"
"Our support rate was leading," Gwen argued. "They were the ones who should have been desperate, not us."
Locke nodded. "True. But Gwen, you're overlooking a key issue."
"What?"
"I live in the Star Tower."
Gwen's eyes widened slightly. Locke smiled. "Even without the deal, Sam was destined to lose. Nina would have used this narrative to sink him. Once he was gone, why wouldn't she come for me? Compared to her excuses for attacking Sam—which were just some photos that could be explained by a lack of talent among certain demographics—living in the Star Tower is a direct hit."
The Star Tower had a perfect legal record, but everyone knew its "special" reputation.
"Don't worry," Locke said, mirroring her earlier words. "The advantage is ours."
Gwen gave a weak laugh. "Once she makes it a racial issue, it gets complicated."
Race was a sensitive topic, especially with the current trend of "social justice" sweeping the country. These days, even treating people with equality was seen as discrimination by some; if you weren't actively groveling, you were a bigot.
Locke shook his head. "Trust me, we will win."
Besides, Locke smiled at Gwen. "She better not go there. My legal team isn't exactly made of vegans."
Gwen blinked. Locke gestured vaguely. "If she wants to use 'magic,' I have some of my own."
Let her accuse him. Mr. Laun would be more than happy to take that case. Free speech? Heh. Even when Locke was forming his competition team, there were voices on the forum.
'This society is already sick, and it's only going to get worse,' Locke thought. He saw the worry still etched on Gwen's face and gave her a firm hug. "Relax. I've always believed that in the face of overwhelming strength, any conspiracy is just a mantis trying to stop a carriage. It will be crushed into dust."
Just then, Mrs. Codd pushed the door open. "Guys, the audience is entering. We should..." She paused, seeing Locke and Gwen embracing. After a moment of silence, she laughed. "Locke, Gwen, I'd prefer to see you kiss on stage after a victory rather than just hugging back here."
They pulled apart. Locke looked at Mrs. Codd with a serious expression. "I promise you, you'll see exactly that."
Gwen coughed into her hand, blushing.
The five of them stacked their hands together. "Crush Brooklyn, complete the Grand Slam!"
Locke took the lead, and the team followed Mrs. Codd out of the lounge.
...
In the Grand Auditorium:
"Wow!" Helen sat down next to George, fanning herself with a program. The hall was nearly at capacity. "Why didn't we come here last year?"
George thought about it. "Probably because Gwen was just a freshman?"
Sophomores could vote for the Student Council, but freshmen couldn't run. This competition was specifically designed to build momentum for the presidential candidates.
On stage, a large scoreboard had been set up. The desks for Midtown High and Brooklyn were ready, and a massive screen loomed behind them.
Soon, Locke, representing Midtown High, stood up to shake hands with Helen Cho, representing Brooklyn.
"Locke Broughton."
"Helen Cho."
***
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