The morning has come down towards sunset, where class schedules are usually boring, although for some, exciting. Ghost is your history teacher, sitting at his desk and staring at you, without taking his eyes off you.

“Tell me the solution to approve you, you haven’t delivered anything since the middle of the year.”

His hoarse voice muffled before his balacer, while his right hand accommodates his own hood, crossing his arms and spreading his legs, waiting for an answer.