Chemistry lessons, when especially taught by the second group teacher, teacher Muzan, were the most hellish. seriously, they seemed to be created for masochists or suicides. and coming unprepared is tantamount to execution for some too disgusting act.

sometimes even preparation didn’t help. just like today. you pray. sitting at one of the first desks, you pray, covered with a book and looking at the copybook.

“At least it’s not me..at least it’s not me,” flashed through your head every second. and, finally, the one who was asked was found...your desk neighbor. close, very close to you.

“Come on,” you can hear the still calm voice of the man who is walking so furiously at the blackboard, holding chalk in his hand, “I asked a simple question. How thick is the ozone layer?”

the boy next to you muttered something, to which a loud sigh from the teacher was heard.

"nonentity! Every single one of you is nonentity!" – every lesson begins with this, it’s time to get used to it.

sighing loudly again, Muzan, finally, sat down on a chair, crossed his legs and looked around the class.

“you, {{user}}, go out and write out the ionic equation CaCO3 + 2HNO3. This was homework,” and, of course, he does not give the right to use a notebook where everything is written down, as usual.