He shakes his head, and rolls his eyes, not bothering to hide his expression from the professor. His first day at the Britannian private school Ashford Academy, and credit where credit is due, it was certainly more interesting than school had been when he was Japanese.
"So why bring in philosophy in the first place, if your argument is based on being unable to prove it's existence with rhetoric? More to the point, did you even check for conventional listening devices? Because advanced is not the point, what you should be checking for is what would do the job." A clever person would note something about Lelouch. He's stopped lecturing, and started instructing how to actually effectively run such an information war with confidence and surety. He's not all that worried on being called up on it, everyone knows he's an aristocrat (though they'd be shocked at how right they are) and chances are none of them would still be listening anyway. If they had heard beyond 'evil librarians' he'd be surprised.
He, on the other hand, was despairing. Over the course of the conversation he'd become convinced that the man did know something, and that the trouble was he himself didn't know what he knew. If any such organization did exist, they would be highly competent, and the first thing such a group would do is invent enemies simply as insurance. It was something he'd do in their position, and if you ever found yourself squared off against an unfamiliar player is assume they are just as capable as yourself. Few people died from being too careful. You'd invent an agency to keep your followers united by using it as a threat, while controlling the perceptions of your enemy by letting them make the occasional discovery or small victory to further influence them. Mostly, because by doing that you've effectively ensured that anyone who did discover you also discovered them. That way anyone who did try to stop you would wind up as part of a largely incompetent opposition so full of incorrect information that they were utterly impotent. His insistence of having swept the area certainly suggested so.
"First up, if you did find anything, then I'd be less alarmed. Any such global organization has influence, and that allows them to access independent contractors. Why would they confront you directly, when it's far easier to put operatives who do it for a living on the job? That way they don't expose themselves, and can maintain surveillance in a way you won't even look for. Their are cameras in all the hallways, what's to stop them surreptitiously upgrading them and checking the feeds? And you didn't even check, because you think it's inferior technology." He stops here, letting him feel the contempt, then continues.
"Have you considered that their entire existence depends on secrecy? If you can prove it to us, and I doubt you'll ever find anyone as skeptical as me, what's to stop you from simply marching up to Emperor Charles zi Britannia and letting him put his resources on the job? Even if he didn't act directly, by outing them you'd have forced them to expend considerable resources relocating, purging their organization and rebuilding. Or if you don't trust authority then just upload it on a webcam, link it to the Kira web-page, and wait for to execute them all?"
He rests his elbows on the desk and looks at you. "So you see, that is why I reject your reality. Not because I find it ridiculous, though it is, simply because this world is run by dangerous, highly competent and ruthless people, all of who would not dangle on the string of anyone unless that man were even more so then they are."
After all, he may be Kira, a name often found to be synonymous with Justice, but that meant more then passing judgment. Light himself had been forced to become an Honorable Britannian to be sure of his own survival. He shuddered for a moment realizing that his fate could have been far different had he been forced to live in the Shinjuku Ghetto.
No, it was important to leave Japan. For one thing Kira had become associated with the nation, for another the post occupation laws made freedom of information harder, for another... for another, this was Brittania, the Empire that would one day rule the world. And Kira would one day rule Brittania.
He pauses a moment as he comes up the corridor, and his eyes narrow, as he stares at the closed door. Someone had opened it. He didn't keep it locked, that would be suspicious, and he wanted the encourage the perception he had nothing to hide.
The defense he used was so basic most would not even look for it, a single hair stretched over it, now broken. He paused a second, then placed his ear against, listening carefully, then closed his eyes as he heard Misa's voice. She knew he as at class, why was she visiting him now?
His hand closes around the knob, and he turns it, stepping into his room. He has a disturbingly quiet tread.
She smiles mysteriously, and maybe a little smugly. Misa may look like a vapid, glamor obsessed air-head, but when she smiles she looks remarkably like a Black Widow. "That would be telling, wouldn't it? But we only just met, I'm not sure I want to concede the advantage just yet." Of course, the trouble is, she cant ask C.C what she is without revealing that she doesn't already know, and lose her advantage.
She wants to find out. She wants to know everything, so she can make an informed decision, and Light will be proud of her. Then the Butler intervenes. For a moment she looks like she's going to ignore him, then she steps back a step. It's then that the door opens, and Light steps in, and Misa stares over as the object of her unhealthy obsession enters the room, and her eyes are filled with simple adoration. It's clear she loves him, utterly, selflessly and completely, she would do anything for him. There was no ocean of blood she would not wade through, no act to heinous to contemplate, nothing.
He's a lot to look at, tall, athletic, features chiseled to perfection. His face is bland, carefully empty, but something dark slivers in the back of them for a moment before he smiles at her., slight smile so it didn't seem quite like a confrontation—it was important to at least seem friendly."I think you might have the wrong room." He says to C.C politely. "Unless you were looking for me for something?"