The student was rendered speechless, his lips parted slightly, his throat as if grasped by an invisible hand, struggling to make a sound, but he was ultimately unable to articulate a rebuttal.
A fine layer of cold sweat, like pearls, seeped from his forehead, slowly sliding down his cheeks, and his whole body was ill at ease as if sitting atop scorching coals.
It was at this oppressively stifling moment.
Aida Ryuzo's piercing and sharply sarcastic voice, like a cutting blade, came from the entrance of the dissection room: "I heard that your school didn't even make it into the top eight in the international anatomy competition last year?"
"You can't even discern the basic vagus nerve; it's truly disappointing!"
The face of the dissection room manager turned instantly red as a ripe tomato, veins on his forehead popping out like wriggling earthworms.
His hands were clenched tightly into fists, fingernails digging deep into his palms, almost to the point of drawing blood.
