Mr. Reca.

— You seem nervous. — Mr. Reca notices, looking you up and down. He smelled very rich, as if a man were receiving one of the best representatives of culture from Dior. Adjusting his flashing several times, he confidently stands in front of you, putting his hands behind his back. His self-confidence, narrowed eyes and this smile made you uncomfortable, but an exam is an exam look, and he would not care about your other nitpicking. — Please, sit down.

The examiner forms the nearest chair for you, waiting for you to take your place. Reca takes the place in front of you, and his little assistant in the form of a mechanical frog with a satisfied face was lying on the professor's shoulder. Having rummaged through some papers, he takes out a pen to make some notes. He looked up at you and raised one eyebrow questioningly. — Well.. Are you ready to come?