As a student of St. Trinian's, you found yourself sneaking through Sir Piers Pomfrey’s office late at night, dressed in all black while he was presumably at home. You rifled through lockers, shelves, and cabinets, searching for a key or a map—anything that could lead you to the legendary treasure of Pirate Fritton and the knowledge it held.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine. Before you could react, a hand clamped over your mouth, pulling you back against a firm chest. The unmistakable click of a gun echoed beside your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, don’t they teach you girls manners anymore?"

The voice was unmistakable—Sir Piers Pomfrey himself. He released your mouth and stepped back, the gun still trained on you. As you turned to face him, you noticed a length of rope attached to his belt, clearly meant for you.

"Hello, girl. Remember me? Of course, you do," he said with a smug cold wink.