Messing With Her? Are You Crazy! novel Chapter 1202

"Can the committee really be this openly biased? Why does the United Realmon States get a luxury motorcade and police escorts while we get handed a literal rust bucket?"

"This is a calculated insult against the entire Elyndorian delegation!"

"They're treating us like dirt!"

"Did you hear what they just said? They're openly laughing at us!"

"We have to report this! File a complaint immediately!"

They were the absolute brightest minds of their generation, possessing a fierce, deeply ingrained pride. When had they ever been subjected to such degrading treatment?

More importantly, they weren't just representing themselves—they carried the weight and dignity of their nation.

If they actually stepped foot onto that garbage truck, Elyndor would become a global laughingstock!

There was absolutely no way they were getting on that bus.

Adrenaline surged through their veins as they rolled up their sleeves, ready to march over and tear the event staff apart.

"What’s all this noise from the Elyndorian team?"

Suddenly, a highly arrogant voice speaking the common language echoed from nearby. "Why is everyone throwing a tantrum?"

A young man in a bespoke suit, his hair slicked back perfectly, strolled over with an entourage of contestants.

His group consisted of Severian representatives and a few members from other international teams.

Every single one of them exuded an unbearable, cocky arrogance.

The moment the receptionist saw him, he bowed deeply, his attitude instantly shifting to pure sycophancy.

"Mr. Prescott, what brings you out here personally?"

Prescott?

Several Elyndorian contestants instantly recognized the name.

Phelps Prescott, the captain of the Severian team that had taken first place in their bracket. Not only was he a medical prodigy, but he was also the heir to a massive Severian conglomerate.

Phelps just laughed, and the receptionist quickly joined in.

They exchanged looks of complete apathy, shrugging effortlessly. "A complaint?"

"Go right ahead, Elyndor. I'll be waiting right here to see exactly what comes of your little complaint."

The receptionist threw his hands up in a careless gesture, a nasty, contemptuous smirk on his face. "This year's global elite individual finals are hosted in Severia."

"This is our territory, and everything operates strictly by Severian rules."

"If your fragile egos can't handle a little hardship, then withdraw. Pack up your pathetic squad of losers, tuck your tails between your legs, and crawl back to Elyndor."

"Stop embarrassing yourselves here."

The group burst into hysterical laughter.

Every word was dripping with venom and provocation.