Just a few hours into the academy, Mikel had already learned a few things:
First, even in a school for shamans, delinquents still existed. The only difference was that the troubled teens here didn't throw fists or kicks — they threw around high-tier phantoms instead.
But that wasn't the issue at hand right now. The real issue was...
Standing in front of the headmaster's desk, Mikel pulled one hand out of his pocket and pointed at himself.
"Uhh… Headmaster, why am I the only one in here?"
Confusion was clear on his face as he stared at the ghost blanket seated behind a large oak desk, wearing an eye mask that was slightly slanted—no doubt to express displeasure. At this rate, Mikel could gauge the headmaster's mood by the angle of that eye mask.
"Hmm…" the headmaster hummed a long, drawn-out note. So far, that was all he'd offered—various hums of deep contemplation.
