Good Student, Bad Student

In the room above the amphitheater classroom’s glass dome, one could see the entire classroom by glancing down.

The administrator pushed the door open and gazed around. Seeing the man sitting in the center, he finally understood. "I was wondering who it could be to make them all so anxious that even I was scared."

Accompanied by many teachers, the middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair sat on the sofa. Holding onto a cane, he studied the classroom.

Sensing the administrator, he raised his head and chuckled. "That’s a bit of an exaggeration, Mr. Administrator." He shook his head. "I am just Her Majesty’s messenger. If there is anything to bow before, it should be her prestige."

"Haha, you saying this makes me feel ashamed." The administrator pulled over a chair and sat down carelessly, ignoring the furrowed brows of the elite musicians nearby.