Kieran was furious, obvious by the way his face constantly beaded with sweat from frustration, his teeth grinding as he glared at the so-called principal of Wisteria High.
Of course, the authorities were by all means—active. Watching and ignoring the violent façade that was going on in the school. The principal was a middle-aged man with brown silk hair and a bushy beard. The disconcern in his lemon-green eyes expressed how unmoved he was by the domineering presence of the hero.
"Come again, old man," Kieran growled. "What's your major function in this school?"
The principal—Mr. Bradford—had arms calmly rested on his table. His fingers drummed with boredom as he stared coldly into the hero's eyes.
"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Kieran. But I must assure you, Wisteria High is highly esteemed among others," Bradford explained. "Here, we go by different beliefs."
Kieran clenched his jaw. "The belief to let students beat the crap out of one another?!"
