I flipped through the comic front to back, making sure I didn’t miss any details from this morning to my fight with Water Assailant. I wanted to ensure I wasn’t missing vital context for my actions, but also to make sure I wasn’t sharing excessive information.

  As for the fight, I included a flashback of me seeing my summoner getting bullied by Water Assailant and his entourage, so that I wouldn’t depict myself as some bad guy looking for fights, and I’m sure Mr. Blonde would explain whatever happened between the two for him end up getting those well-deserved cuts and bruises.

  Before I could react, golden orbs appeared and snatched the comic I had produced from my hands, with the golden cage dispersing into motes of golden light shortly after.

  Mr. Blonde motioned for the old man to come over and stand beside him, to which he did with some reluctant grunts.

  Although I felt satisfied with what I had created, it was difficult to convey the concept of apologies without using words, so I made extra effort to express my regret for throwing those dodgeballs at the girls by depicting my comic avatar with expressions of regret and sorrow.

  I stood there nervously as I waited for both Mr. Blonde and the old man to read through my comic.

  Their various hums and expressions shifting made waiting all the more nerve-racking. All I could do was hope for the most ideal reactions.

  It felt a little weird conveying my thoughts and intentions this way. A part of me felt like I was being insincere for communicating this way. It felt like I was viewing life from an outsider’s perspective without really understanding what it’s like to live within the world.

  After waiting with bated breath, I breathed out, just realizing that I was holding my breath in.

  There were some exchanges between the two, all of them ending with Mr. Blonde getting the last words.

  And then, the comic book was finally put down.

  What’s their verdict?

  The old man merely walked up to my side, then glared at me, before walking out of the room with a huff.

  I looked to Mr. Blonde, wanting him to confirm if that was a good thing.

  He only gave that same plastered smile he uses to appear professional.

  What is that supposed mean?

  Am I looking too much into it? Is he expecting something from me? I can only interpret so much before things can no longer make sense!

  “Akoa.”

  That was the word that came out of Mr. Blonde’s mouth, succinct and clear.

  Akoa? Is that the name of one of the girls I threw a dodgeball at?

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  It was the second term that stuck out to me ever since I transmigrated into this world, with the first one being “Gioni,” or “Keori.” I still wasn’t certain about the pronunciation, but I had an inkling that it was my summoner’s name.

  But what am I supposed to do with a name? I’d like to say, “I’m sorry, Akoa,” and try to proceed from there. One-word apologies don’t mean anything.

  I should start practicing both the utilization and trigger-discipline of my power so that I don’t find myself in these predicaments in the future.

  Mr. Blonde waved his hand in dismissal, and I took that as my cue to leave the office.

  Actually…

  I stopped at the door, realizing something.

  Although I couldn’t understand anything that came out of anyone’s mouth, it didn’t mean I was incapable of swaying anyone’s thoughts.

  I produced a voodoo doll with the likeness of Water assailant, school uniform, and all. I made sure that the uniform shirt could be taken off.

  Next, I produced a simplified model of the school building, represented as a simple cubic building with the school’s emblem on the model gable. The simplified model only had one entrance and exit that was big enough for the doll to ‘walk’ through.

  Then I made a voodoo doll of Mr. Blonde’s likeness, making no effort to ensure this doll’s clothes were removable.

  I turned to Mr. Blonde, and he had a brow raised in intrigue.

  I placed the miniature building on Mr. Blonde’s desk and held up the dolls, just realizing I wouldn’t be able to hold both dolls the way I walked to portray the thought I’d like to express.

  I wanted to portray Mr. Blonde expelling Water Assailant by having his doll counterpart literally kicking the dangerous student out of the school. The problem was that I needed to hold the Mr. Blonde doll within the school.

  Thankfully, solutions come easily with my power. My first thought was to animate them moving, as if they had come to life, but decided against it, opting to simply make the roof model building removable.

  Then, I added a simple pocket for my finger on the back of Mr. Blonde’s legs. This leg would be used to convey the kicking motion.

  Finally, I held both dolls. Water assailant by the chest, and Mr. Blonde attached to my opposite hand like a glove. He deserved the honor of being more animated.

  Then, after a simple play-argument later, the Mr. Blonde doll kicked the Water Assailant doll away from the school entrance. I then tossed that doll toward the door to further emphasize my point.

  This was my inquiry for Water Assailant to be expelled, something I had no doubt Mr. Blonde could accomplish.

  When the Water assailant doll landed, he laughed for a bit before quickly composing himself under his veil of professionalism and authority.

  After removing the Mr. Blonde doll from my hand, I moved to dissipate the toys, but was stopped when Mr. Blonde lunged and grabbed my wrist.

  Huh?

  He spoke some words, picking up the comic I produced, before taking the doll and house and putting them in his office’s closet.

  So, he wants to keep them? Alright.

  I put the thought of dissipating them in the back of my mind and moved to grab the Water assailant, then offered it to him.

  He gave it a wave of dismissal, so I dissipated the doll in front of him. He made no reaction to the doll’s dissipation, a stark contrast to nearly dissipating the doll of him.

  It feels like he’s keeping things I make to boost his ego. I need to move past this language barrier.

  Afterward, he waved his hand, and I heard the door open behind me. When I turned, I saw a few golden orbs surrounding it.

  I moved toward it, but stopped when I saw someone entering.

  It was three people: Ms. Grey, the teacher with black hair from my second class, and Water assailant, who was being restrained by the former two.

  The moment he saw me, he shouted something I didn’t care to remember.

  Mr. Blonde’s voice resounded through the room, and the Water assailant shut up. The two women then dragged the student past me, and I saw Mr. Blonde motioning for me to leave, with the two women looking at me expectantly to comply.

  I complied, speeding walking out of the room and moving to close the door behind me, but Mr. Blonde’s golden orbs did that for me, slamming it shut in my face. Looks like he wanted me out of the room as soon as possible.