With the arrival of tomorrow, the man devised an elaborate plan to lure his students to the classroom. Before the academy's bell tower could even toll the crack of dawn, Thomas was already up and in motion. He entered the school building while the sky was still shrouded in darkness and stepped into his classroom, directing his sights on the cobwebs and dust-coated furniture cluttering the already claustrophobic space.

"If I'm going to persuade those kids into attending classes, I'll have to start by turning this place into a room they actually want to learn in," the man thought aloud, hands on his hips. And he proceeded to stack the spare desks and chairs and lift them all at once, making use of his bulky arms. Outside the room, he ran into another teacher, who gawked at the sheer amount of stuff he was bearing.

"Um, excuse me," he said to his fellow educator, seemingly unencumbered by the weight.

"Y-yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where the storage room is, would you?"

"It's down the hall and to the right..."

"Thanks!"

Mouth agape, the teacher goggled at Thomas as he went on his way. After setting the furniture down in storage without breaking a sweat, the man chanced upon a broom and dustpan in the corner. Thrilled with the lucky find, he brought them to his classroom and swept the floor. His next task was to wipe the dirty, smudged windowpanes clean. It was then to swap out the threadbare curtains with fresh new ones.

Slowly but surely, the room was restored to its former glory, and the lengths Thomas went to renovate the area did not go unnoticed. Word spread through the campus of a muscle-bound stranger running to and fro between buildings carrying an assortment of items. These rumours reached Mirabelle, who had already deduced the identity of the culprit behind these sightings. And she sidled up to the classroom door, which was left ajar, to see what he was up to.

"Ah, Mirabelle!" Thomas caught the woman peeking in as he returned and approached her from behind. "Did you need something?"

She whipped around and espied the sack slung over the man's shoulder. "Just checking up on you. You've been quite busy, haven't you? Your spadework has been the talk of the academy."

"Oh, really? Well, I am trying to grab the attention of my students..."

"Your antics certainly have been attention-grabbing..."

Thomas clutched the door handle and turned to her. "Setting that aside, you're here just in time to see me add the finishing touches. You can hardly recognise the class now, believe it or not."

"It's only been a day, I don't see how—"

And the woman swallowed her comment once the man pushed the door open. To her shock, the room before her had downright transformed overnight—the surface of every chair and table was spotless, not a speck of dust to be seen. Waxed flooring, polished windows, refurbished walls plastered with rows of handmade educational posters, and a blackboard chalked with a large decorated welcome sign had replaced all vestiges of the dreary space.

Knowing that Thomas didn't even have the Gift made the accomplishment especially remarkable to her. "You really went all out for these kids..." Mirabelle admired his handiwork.

"Every student deserves a proper classroom; mine are no exception."

"I mean, this is impressive and all, but is it enough to get them to join their classes?"

"I knew you'd say that, which is why I brought along a secret weapon."

"A secret weapon?"

Promptly, the man dropped his bag on the table and fished out a copper bowl. "This!"

"A bowl?"

"Not just a bowl." He set the basin down and hoisted his sack over it, letting a cascade of wrapped candy pour out and fill the bowl to the brim. "A bowl of Linxuean sweets!"

At a loss for words, Mirabelle stared at him.

"Um... you do know your students are in their late teens, right?"

"Yeah? What's wrong with that?"

"I just don't think kids their age would be swayed by candy."

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"What? That can't be true—who doesn't love candy?" Thomas grabbed a piece from the bowl, unwrapped it, and tossed it in his mouth. "See? I can't even resist it myself!"

"How will they even know it's here?"

"Glad you asked!" Reaching over to the lectern behind him, the man swiped a sheet of paper and held it up. "This was among the posters I created for the classroom this morning."

Pushing her spectacles up her nose, the woman narrowed her eyes to read the announcement written in crayon: "Free Linxuean candy inside. The first student to arrive gets a handful..."

"Clever plan, isn't it? I can just picture them racing each other to be first. Who knew Grandmaster Baoshi's trick would eventually come in handy? It definitely got me when I was younger."

Overwhelmed by his naiveté, Mirabelle could only muster up a sigh. "Hope it works out for you."

"You don't seem convinced." Thomas offered her a piece of candy. "Here, try one."

"No, thank you, I'm not a fan of sweets—"

"This one's strawberry, my favourite."

One look at the glistening red confectionery, and the woman gave in. "Fine, give it here."

And the man beamed as he watched her partake of the sugary treat. "So? How is it?"

"It's... good," she responded in a low tone, her cheeks glowing with a faint blush.

"Right? I knew it was a smart idea to load my suitcase with them."

"Still don't know if it's enough to reel them in, though."

"It's worked before. I'm positive it'll work again!"

Their conversation was cut short by the distant sound of bells signalling the start of classes. "I should get going now. Best of luck to you then." Mirabelle bobbed her head and made her exit.

"Mm, see you later!" Thomas waved goodbye to her and hung his poster up on the door outside. He then eagerly waited for the arrival of his students, confident they would show up.

And he waited.

Seconds turned to minutes; minutes turned to hours.

Another day flew by, and the man's pupils still hadn't made an appearance. Although his scheme bore no fruit, he refused to lose hope and picked himself up. "They probably didn't see the message yet. Yeah, that has to be it," he reasoned to himself while holding his head up high. Again, Mirabelle came by to cheer him up with her leftover home cooking. And they whiled the evening away, gazing at the sunset with greasy sandwiches in hand.

When the next morning arrived, Thomas decided to head to the classroom later than usual. Wrapped in his arms was a box of colourful paper cutouts he'd spent the night making, meant to spice up the place. With a bounce in his step, he ambled through the halls, happily whistling as he neared the partially open door. Never could the man have predicted what awaited him inside. And his heart sank as the cruel reality set in; with a resounding thud, his box landed by his feet.

Vandalised posters, upturned desks, shattered windows, profane scribbles on the chalkboard—the classroom had been thoroughly ransacked; the bowl of candy was nowhere to be found. Mirabelle, having noticed Thomas frozen by the doorway from afar, sauntered over to investigate. And standing beside him, she took a gander at the wanton devastation, well aware of who was responsible. "Well, this is about what I expected."

For a moment, the man appeared inconsolable, only to snap himself out of it by slapping his cheeks with both hands and straining out a chuckle. "Man, they got me good, huh?"

Clueless as to what she could say to cheer him up, the woman folded her arms and tilted her head. "So, what will you do now? Those three evidently have no intention of cooperating."

"We don't know if my students were behind this."

"They're the only ones that come to mind."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Realising only the perpetrators would be in possession of his copper bowl, Thomas parted ways with Mirabelle and set out to prove his students' innocence. He scoured the campus, questioning every person he stumbled across, from prefects to professors, for any leads on their whereabouts. Hours in, the man still came up empty. Those he'd asked either claimed not to know where the notorious trio resided or refused to cooperate out of fear for their own safety.

But just as he was about to give up for the day, he bumped into a shiny green head he knew well while traversing an isolated corridor. "Good afternoon, milord!" Oscar bowed politely, notably without the tophat he usually sported. "It's been a hot minute since we last spoke, hasn't it? How has the job been treating you so far?"

"Oscar!" Recognising the goblin, Thomas brightened up. "I'm actually in the middle of tracking my students down. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?"

"Had a hunch the problem magi would play hooky..."

"Yeah... and no one seems to have any idea where they've gone. I'm totally stumped."

Oscar crossed his arm, trying his hardest to recall if he had any relevant information. Then, it hit him. "Come to think of it, I did hear tell of something rather interesting the other day..."

"Oh?"

"A couple of days ago, a colleague of mine, a seasoned groundskeeper, told me he'd seen an apparition while raking the leaves outside the abandoned schoolhouse up north."

"Like... an actual ghost?"

"Indeed, milord. The poor soul went on to frantically describe how it resembled a floating head and swore he'd never step foot near that accursed building ever again. I simply waved it off, thinking he must have been tired that day or that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but..."

"Hm... that sounds like it might be worth investigating. Thanks for the info, Oscar."

"Glad to be of service to you, milord."

"By the way, what happened to your hat?"

"Ah... I'm embarrassed to say, but I seem to have misplaced it somewhere."

"Misplaced it, huh? Well, if I happen to find it, I'll be sure to let you know."

"That'd be the utmost of help, milord! I'm forever indebted to you."