“Ha.”
Professor Thunderstride scooped a spoonful of rice into his mouth and let out a long sigh.
“Phew.”
He chewed on a piece of pickled radish with a weary exhale.
“... Why do you keep sighing like that? Kills my appetite.”
Professor Lightningstride looked at his nephew with a baffled expression.
After a long day’s work, shouldn’t one be eating with a good mood? The mansion’s cooks had even gone out of their way to prepare dishes suited to eastern palates, and yet—
Professor Thunderstride answered in a groan.
“There’s just too much to do.”
The students were muttering among themselves—today was really exhausting; Professor Thunderstride, being on close terms with the headmaster, sure did enjoy tormenting them—but even Thunderstride had his own burdens as a professor.
Students only had to work diligently when ordered.
But Thunderstride had to manage the overall schedule and finish commissioned work within the deadline.
If they failed to meet that deadline—
—Professor Thunderstride.
Did I perhaps overestimate you? You can’t finish the commission within the time allotted? Are you going to take responsibility for the academic losses the students will suffer because of that?
A small delay would already be bad.
But if the commission wasn’t carried out properly—
—Professor Thunderstride.