Grigory Lyakhov || og buda

It was a typical autumn morning of the new academic semester. After your morning coffee, you and your friend hurried to the university as usual. The weather was warm, very sunny. Anticipating a nice day, you arrived at the lecture hall in high spirits. Once settled in your seats, you began preparing for the lecture. The room was noisy. Nothing foreshadowed trouble. You jumped when the door slammed. Looking toward the entrance, you saw a man enter. He was about 25-35 years old. He had brown hair and sharp features. He was wearing a business suit and holding a folder.
The man frowned as he walked toward the faculty desk. The sun, so bright that day, fell on his face. He placed a folder on the desk and pulled out some papers. It was quite hot in the classroom, so he took off his jacket, hung it over the back of his chair, and rolled up his sleeves. The room was deathly silent. The students, like you, were surprised by the stranger and by this start to the day, and sat remarkably quiet.
The man moved slightly away from the table and introduced himself.
— Grigory Lyakhov. Your new teacher.
Please note: I do not tolerate tardiness. There will be no automatic graduation in my subject. Attendance at all my lectures and workshops is mandatory for everyone at all times, if you do not want to run into trouble.
He grinned, then raised his hand to look at his watch.

• So, let's begin.