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Toji entered his Advanced Biology class, the door creaking softly behind him. Inside, students were already seated, their attention drawn to a floating head in a jar at the front of the room, bobbing slightly as if observing the room itself. The faint green glow from the jar cast eerie shadows on the walls, giving the classroom a faintly macabre air.
He walked deliberately to the center of the room, drawing the eyes of a few curious students, though he ignored them entirely. Professor Olaf's gaze fell on him, sharp and penetrating. "Why are you late, young man?" he asked, voice calm but edged with authority.
Toji inclined his head slightly, expression neutral, tone polite. "I was just admiring the beautiful view of Nevermore and… I lost track of time," he said smoothly.
Professor Olaf stared at him for a long moment, trying to detect any trace of falsehood. But Toji's face remained perfectly unreadable — no hesitation, no flinch, no micro-expression to betray him. Finally, Olaf sighed and shook his head. "Alright. Sit down, and make sure it doesn't happen again."
Toji returned a sharp yet polite smirk, the kind that suggested confidence without arrogance, then scanned the room for a seat. He spotted an empty chair next to a girl wearing shades, her skin pale, almost corpse-like. By the slow, measured rhythm of her breathing — one every two minutes — he could tell she was a fang.
Unfazed, he moved to the seat and set down his notebook, opening it with deliberate care. He observed the classroom subtly as Professor Olaf began the lesson, noting how students interacted, the floating head in its jar, and even the faint creak of the old wooden floors.
When the professor asked questions, Toji answered them with precision — perfectly accurate, calm, and concise. Not a word wasted, not a hint of emotion in his tone. Each answer drew quiet glances from the students around him, some impressed, others wary. He gave nothing away, revealing only competence and focus, while the faint smirk never left his face.
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Toji entered his Advanced Biology class, the door creaking softly behind him. Inside, students were already seated, their attention drawn to a floating head in a jar at the front of the room, bobbing slightly as if observing the room itself. The faint green glow from the jar cast eerie shadows on the walls, giving the classroom a faintly macabre air.
He walked deliberately to the center of the room, drawing the eyes of a few curious students, though he ignored them entirely. Professor Olaf's gaze fell on him, sharp and penetrating. "Why are you late, young man?" he asked, voice calm but edged with authority.
Toji inclined his head slightly, expression neutral, tone polite. "I was just admiring the beautiful view of Nevermore and… I lost track of time," he said smoothly.
Professor Olaf stared at him for a long moment, trying to detect any trace of falsehood. But Toji's face remained perfectly unreadable — no hesitation, no flinch, no micro-expression to betray him. Finally, Olaf sighed and shook his head. "Alright. Sit down, and make sure it doesn't happen again."
Toji returned a sharp yet polite smirk, the kind that suggested confidence without arrogance, then scanned the room for a seat. He spotted an empty chair next to a girl wearing shades, her skin pale, almost corpse-like. By the slow, measured rhythm of her breathing — one every two minutes — he could tell she was a fang.
Unfazed, he moved to the seat and set down his notebook, opening it with deliberate care. He observed the classroom subtly as Professor Olaf began the lesson, noting how students interacted, the floating head in its jar, and even the faint creak of the old wooden floors.
After a few minutes, Professor Olaf looked directly at him. "Tell me," he began, his tone even but expectant, "what can you deduce about this specimen's cellular structure from the way it reacts to stimuli?"
Toji's eyes flicked briefly to the floating head, then back to Olaf. "The specimen's neurons display delayed synaptic responses due to partial preservation in the fluid. Its cellular density remains stable, though energy consumption is minimal." His voice was calm, precise, polite.
The professor nodded slightly, then asked, "And if the preservation fluid begins to evaporate, how would you stabilize it without causing decay?"
"To maintain structural integrity," Toji said evenly, "I would replenish with a neutral, chilled preservation solution at regular intervals, ensuring temperature and pH remain constant."
Olaf raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. "Very well. One last question — compare this specimen to the ethereal variant we observed last semester. What differences do you notice?"
"To the naked eye, the ethereal variant lacks defined cellular boundaries and exhibits higher metabolic activity. This specimen, in contrast, maintains rigid structure but slower neural responses, likely due to long-term preservation."
He paused, expression unreadable, eyes flicking briefly to the fang girl next to him as if acknowledging her presence. Then, with nothing more to say, he opened his notebook and began taking notes.
The classroom murmured quietly. Students exchanged glances, impressed and slightly uneasy. Toji's precision, calmness, and perfect answers left them with a strange sense of both admiration and caution. Professor Olaf, after a long moment, simply said, "Good. Sit and follow along."
Toji returned a faint, sharp, polite smirk, the kind that made it clear he had done well without needing validation, and settled into his seat, observing quietly as the lesson continued.
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Drop some power stone so that l know your interested
If you have any questions ask away