The Vice Principal frowned deeply. The S-Rank Professors looked visibly annoyed at the interruption. Two thousand students turned their heads simultaneously toward the source of the disruption.
Sprinting toward the podium at full speed, tripping over his own oversized robes, panting like a dog that had just run a full marathon, was a scrawny young man with thick glasses that were sliding down his nose.
He scrambled up the stairs frantically, nearly face-planting directly in front of the assembled legends.
Kaizen straightened up immediately. His eyes lit up with instant recognition.
'It's him!'
Mr. Finch. The nervous assistant. The same guy Helga had violently smacked with a cooking ladle just two days ago in the cafeteria.
"Who is that pathetic guy?" a student whispered loudly. "Is he supposed to be a professor?"
"He looks like he's about to pass out and die."
Mr. Finch stood before the microphone. He tapped it nervously. Screech.
