Fifty-nine. The Weeping Angel.

"Why don't you go find the professors and adults,"

Anna sniffed, wiping away the tears that never formed at the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

But she was truly very sad.

"Because it's useless,"

Lu Li answered for Mishelia.

Coming from a more modern world, he understood better than those here the class and generational divides between students and teachers.

His head hung slightly, a pair of eyes hidden in the shadow beneath his black hair and eyelashes, betraying no thoughts.

"Her pleas perished amidst verbal condemnations and written attacks,"

Mishelia whispered softly.

A restless, ice-cold aura emanated from her body. Above her head, a halo formed of pure darkness was silently coming into existence.

She was transforming into a vengeful spirit.

It might have been a good idea to stop the young girl at this time, but Lu Li did not do so.

He always sat in the boss chair, listening quietly.