"Even resorting to thought detection methods?" Karl sneered. "What's next, should we also make donations, give gifts, grease some palms, and then someone can be exempt from the Council's lectures? It seems like it's all just a scheme to make money."
"That's it? That's the very nature of politics."
Baizhu Interstellar University's Principal—Slavinikov Durgen—harrumphed:
"You young people are always critiquing this and that. If aspirations could be achieved through sarcasm and insults, then the chairperson of the Council should be a cawing crow."
When the Principal spoke, the others naturally didn't dare retort. Nastisha, for her part, didn't care about this place at all; she occasionally looked out at the planets outside the window, her gaze drifting, lost in thought.
Principal Durgen glanced at his absent-minded subordinate and spoke out:
"Nastisha, are you worried about the school?"
Nastisha was startled and then nodded:
"Yes, Teacher."
