Tristan’s face had paled. A shiver ran down his spine the moment when he saw the blank emotion coming from the chopped head of Professor Josefina. The chopped head was in the hands of a man—a man that possessed a mischievous smile, and a dark dead star that seemed like it could melt anyone’s courage.
Principal Copper was holding Professor Josefina’s dead head. He was throwing it into the air as if it was a ball, and Principal Copper was the player. He was throwing it as if he was not bothered by the fact that it was a human head, and not any inanimate object. Well, on the second thought, why would a Principal Copper be bothered by playing the professor’s head? First, Professor Josefina was his creation. That Professor was made alive inside his laboratory. And, the fact that he could crea
