Chapter 135
Zatariel POV — Student Council War Room 📑
What a life.
The stack of folders on my desk was…
Impressive.
Not the admirable kind.
The complaints about my “snobbish personality” were currently thicker than the report regarding this week’s actual crisis—
The janitor forgetting to place air freshener in the third-floor restroom.
Priorities.
Let me summarize today’s emergencies:
• The cafeteria soup is “emotionally underseasoned.”
• The art museum wing remains unfinished.
• Someone believes the roses in the east garden are “not conveying academic excellence.”
• The Debate Club is offended that the Chess Club has better lighting.
• And apparently—
I am “intimidating.”
Good.
Fear encourages punctual submissions.
And looming above all of this nonsense—
Foundation Month.
Only one month away.
Four weeks before Wayne Academy presents its polished perfection to parents, alumni, sponsors, and board members who fund half this institution’s dignity.
Failure is…
Aesthetically unpleasant.
Naturally, I called a full council assembly.
Not just officers.
Not just committee heads.
Every club representative was required to attend.
Because last year—during a pageant attended by ambassadors and CEOs—the contestants walked the stage in complete silence.
Why?
Because no one informed the Music Club they were responsible for the soundtrack.
Nothing says elite institution like high heels echoing in dead silence.
We do not repeat historical humiliation.
The council chamber doors closed behind the last representative.
The room settled.
Long table. Crystal glasses. Ambient lighting.
Subtle psychological pressure.
They sat carefully. Straight backs. Controlled breathing.
Good.
They understood where they were.
I rested my fingers lightly against the stack of proposals and allowed a brief silence to stretch across the room.
Long enough to make them uncomfortable.
Not long enough to be unprofessional.
Timing is everything.
Everyone here knew my reputation.
The Angelic Monster President.
Polite voice. Saintly appearance. Zero tolerance for incompetence.
“I trust everyone understands why we are here,” I began.
No one spoke.
Excellent.
“Foundation Month is in four weeks,” I continued.
“Which means preparation should have been finalized two weeks ago.”
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Golden Melody (Editing)
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