"What do you mean by that? I studied my ass off," Draven asked, still dismayed that he had to repeat another course.
The professor sighed. Apparently, he had called Draven to his office for a heart-to-heart discussion.
"Are you sure arts is for you? Because from my perspective, you're terrible in it. So terrible that you literally got a 4/100. That's poor, so poor that I nearly got an eyesore," he smacked his lips as he explained his sheer disappointment.
So this was going to be his fate. He wasn't born smart, but he had at least tried to read. Yet after everything, he still had to rewrite the course.
"So what do you suggest, sir? You gave me a chance to rewrite a second time because you knew my parents. Can you give me one more chance?" Draven requested. Even though it was slim, he still wanted to go on and prove that he still had the brains.
Maybe not to a genius level, but a pass was still granted.
