Professor Jonathan Brightfield slammed the door of his office with such force that the framed certificates on the wall trembled, threatening to crash to the floor. The meticulously organized space—normally a testament to his obsession with order and hierarchy—was about to witness the unraveling of its master's composure.
With a feral growl that would have shocked his students, Jonathan swept his arm across his mahogany desk. Inkwells crashed to the floor, splattering their contents across the expensive Xianhua carpet. Stacks of graded assignments scattered like autumn leaves, and his prized crystal paperweight—a gift from a grateful noble family—shattered against the far wall.
"How dare they?" he seethed, his refined accent slipping as rage consumed him. "How dare they?"
