Prologue

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Tak. Tak. Tak.

Life is a never-ending process in which mistakes serve as terrifying teachers.

Tak. Tak. Tak.

Alver Crossman, the senior high school heartthrob who was held back for a year, frowned.

Tak. Tak. Tak.

Clopeh Sekka, busy singing praises of an unknown god, looked at the door.

Tak. Tak.

Everyone looked and stopped.

The silence was overwhelming.

Even the damn Tunka, stopped, feeling that aura just outside the door.

Click. Click.

*Slide.*

A man with long red hair walked into the room. He's dressed in regular clothes. He appeared skinny and normal, in contrast to his students, who were bastards, lunatics, craps, and literal trash.

"I am Cale Henituse," the man says, prodding them with his reddish-brown eyes, "your new homeroom teacher."

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.

It's the art of scamming these students to work hard for him.

Let's straighten these wusses out and send them to college.

Cale smiles as he prepares to present them with shittrash education.

Then I'll be free from the headmaster's seat.

He grins and looks at these handsome and pretty bastards he has to take care for a year.

"Let's begin our class."

TBC

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