Aisha bared a mouthful of sharp teeth in an innocent smile, and through the gaps between them, Schiller could vaguely see scraps of paper.
Schiller took a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh. It seemed karma had simply been waiting for its time.
After Bruce sent Aisha away, he sat down in front of Schiller's desk again. Schiller held a report card in his hand and said with a grave expression:
"Mr. Bruce Wayne, I must inform you that your academic performance has reached a very dangerous level. Skipping classes, failing to turn in assignments, and not participating in any school activities have resulted in you failing to earn enough credits for two out of your three years in university."
"This year, you will enter your fourth year. If your performance remains at this level, then I regret to inform you that you will... have your graduation delayed."
The words "graduation delayed" struck Bruce like a bolt from the blue.
Yes, Bruce Wayne did not need a university diploma. He was wealthier than nations; what he earned in a minute might equal a college graduate's annual salary. He did not need the degree to find work, and no one would look down on him for lacking one.
But what other people saw was Bruce's carefully constructed facade: an idle playboy. Bruce himself knew that was not who he was. Going to university should have been absurdly easy for him, which made the prospect of delayed graduation especially unacceptable.
If he had never taken the entrance exams or attended university, that could have been called his own choice. But he had already reached his third year, with only one year left before graduation, only to receive notice that he might be delayed. The actual harm was limited, but