Jax stood at the front of the classroom, basking in the silence like a king surveying his conquered territory.
Draven sat in his seat, fists clenched, jaw tight, hissing under his breath like a deflating balloon.
'Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.'
Jax glanced at the clock mounted on his podium.
'Still thirty minutes left? This is a two-hour class? Who the fuck designed this torture?'
He needed to kill time. Fast.
"Alright," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Everyone take out a piece of paper."
The students exchanged confused glances.
Jax's expression turned serious. Almost frighteningly so.
"I want each of you to write down your strengths and weaknesses. Be honest. Be thorough. I'll be reviewing each one personally and developing training plans tailored to your needs."
A few students perked up at this. Others looked skeptical.
