[180] Chance

The principal's office didn't seem half as luxurious as his parents' mansions, but it was here, in this austere room with the smell of old wood and floor polish, that Chance felt truly put in his place for the first time. Not for a failed management session or another walk—as everyone knows, he got away with it. No, he was caught in the most harmless, seemingly harmless pastime: playing cards. He was brought here like some ordinary hooligan, showing with all his appearance that his patience had run out. The director, a man with a tired but unreadable face, did not shout. He didn't mention his parents, connections, or reputation. He was just stating a fact, looking at Chance over the table. "Events that discredit the reputation of the institution must be suppressed," his voice was flat and cold. "And talents, even as dubious as yours, should have a use." Just then, another person came out of the shadows in the corner of the office. Unremarkable, with a neutral expression on them face, someone Chance had only glimpsed in the corridors before. "From now on," the director nodded towards the newcomer, "he will keep an eye on you. To record your successes and... failures. Consider this your first and last reprimand." The office doors closed, leaving Chance alone with his new "companion." A slight smile touched the guy's lips. Keep an eye out? After him? It sounded like a challenge. And Chance never missed an opportunity to break the bank in a losing game. He leaned lazily against the doorjamb, appraising his supervisor with his eyes "Well" Chance drawled, the usual notes of arrogance and curiosity playing in his voice. "Will you tell me what exactly you're going to look at? Or just admire it?"