Chapter 757: Miss Goth's Unpleasant Surprise (Part 1) (Patreon)

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It was another somewhat gloomy morning, with a chilly wind sweeping across the soft hem of Tracey Goth's skirt, making her stand out even more in the school's incoming student team because she was the only one wearing a dress.

Although there were quite a few girls registering, most of them were clad in thick pants and windbreakers, with many also wearing scarves and hats to combat the cold breeze.

Tracey Goth was different from them. She wore a lace-patterned white blouse and a woolen long skirt. Despite wearing thick woolen socks, her shoes still exposed her ankles.

It could be said that, in the biting chill of Gotham's spring, stepping out in such an outfit required considerable courage. Not only did one have to endure the cold, but also face the peculiar eye contact from onlookers as if they were fools.

Gotham's citizens wouldn't restrain their disdainful glances just because you looked wealthy. In the eyes of Gotham citizens, fools were equal beings.

Tracey glared fiercely at a girl beside her just because the girl had glanced at her skirt for a moment. Tracey thought the girl must be envious; envious that her skirt was made from the latest fabric of the year, carefully selected with its contrasting colors and delicate floral patterns.

This was Tracey's proudest skirt, so much so that even Mrs. Goth remarked that after wearing this skirt, Tracey could play the leading lady in Hollywood.

Tracey lifted her face high, revealing a round chin, one of her proud facial features that softened her facial contours and brought her closer to the traditional image of a virtuous wife and mother.

Narrowing her eyes, Tracey surveyed the girls around her. She noticed that they either had pointed chins or wide chins suitable for plowing fields. Only she possessed such perfect jawbones. This was because she had undergone expensive teeth correction from a young age, something the denizens of the slums wouldn't understand.

Hugging her arms tightly, trying to gather warmth from her own skin, Tracey felt the biting cold wind at the school gate. It was too cold.

"Damn it, how much longer do I have to wait here? Why isn't someone here to escort me to the VIP room? Why do I have to stay with these stinking beggars?" Tracey gritted her teeth and stomped her foot, expressing her discontent.

Suddenly, she saw a car pulling up at the school's main entrance. Judging by the license plate, it seemed to be a car from the Wayne Family.

Tracey's eyes widened immediately. She pushed aside the people beside her, wanting to run over. However, at that moment, a person came out of the side door's guard post, shouting, "Everyone stand still! Stand in line according to the registration form, then go in one by one!"

Tracey turned back, glaring fiercely at that person. Grinding her teeth, she stood in place, stomping her foot. Right now, she wanted to find a warm place rather than chase after Bruce Wayne.

At the entrance, more than 150 new students lined up in three columns. Class 1 learned electrical and plumbing maintenance, Class 2 studied the operation and management of refrigeration rooms, and Class 3 learned car repair. Tracey was assigned to Class 3.

Initially, when Schiller gathered all the gang leaders together, he explicitly told them what each class was going to study. However, Mrs. Goth wasn't invited, and the enrollment form didn't specify what each class taught. Mrs. Goth thought the preparatory class was just about reading books and drawing, like those art salons. Therefore, she didn't pay attention to which class Tracey was assigned to.

When Tracey found out that there were very few girls in her class, she felt something was wrong. In an art salon, shouldn't there be more girls?

Most of the girls were in the queue for Class 2 on her right. Most female members chose to study refrigeration-related knowledge because the physical labor in this class was relatively light, with a higher emphasis on knowledge and technology. There was more to memorize, making it more suitable for girls to study.

There were also a few scattered girls who chose electrical and plumbing specialties, but they had already gained some experience in practice. Those studying car repair were the same—either they had family members working in car repair shops, influenced by their surroundings, or they were truck drivers themselves and had a good understanding of vehicles.

As for Tracey, she didn't know anything. Let alone identifying truck parts and assembling them, she had never had close contact with any truck in her life.

After enduring the cold wind for a dozen minutes, Tracey finally reached the indoors. As she walked in, she saw a professor in a black suit sitting behind a desk with a black umbrella beside him.

Tracey breathed a sigh of relief, straightened the wrinkles on her blouse, and, in a very refined manner, sat in the chair opposite Schiller. She spoke in a soft and delicate voice, "Hello, Professor. My name is Tracey Goth, a new student at Gotham University's preparatory class. The weather isn't very good today, is it?"

"Yes, Miss Goth." Schiller didn't look up but continued registering her information. He then said, "Miss Goth, your dormitory is on the fourth floor, room 4012. You have a roommate named... let me see, Sharon, Sharon Veil."

"Oh no! I don't stay in the dormitory. I don't like living with others!" Tracey shook her head and said, "Our family car will come to pick me up tonight..."

It was only at this point that Schiller looked up at her and said, "Wasn't it written in the enrollment brochure? The school does not allow commuting. You must stay in the dormitory."

Tracy widened her eyes and said, "How can this be? How can I live in a drafty building? That would make me catch a cold! Besides, I have a roommate. I won't live in a room with smelly people!"

Schiller knew Tracey was a wealthy young lady, so he didn't get angry at her remarks. After all, a pampered young lady raised by a convent school couldn't possibly adapt to communal living. Feeling awkward initially was normal. So, Schiller spoke:

"This teaching building was funded by the Luthor family. You wouldn't think the Luthor family would build a drafty building, would you?"

Tracey covered her mouth and said, "Oh, sorry, I didn't know... But why would the Luthor family invest in a teaching building?"

"Because the current head of the Luthor family, Lex Luthor, is a freshman here... Oh, yes, if you enroll now, you might be in the same year as him and could even see him around the school."

Tracey's eyes shifted, and she nodded, saying, "Okay, so who will arrange my bed? Where do I shower? And I certainly don't want any unpleasant smells in the bathroom..."

"You'll have to make your own bed, use the independent bathroom in the dormitory building at Gotham University for showering, and there are public bathrooms in the teaching building," Schiller patiently explained. However, Tracey's expression grew darker.

"Alright, Miss Tracey, if you don't have any other questions, take this paper and go to the dormitory for registration. The first class starts at nine, and I hope you won't be late."

Schiller handed the paper to Tracey. Despite having more questions, the people behind her were growing impatient. When Tracey turned around, she found a burly man with tattoos all over, looking formidable and not someone to mess with, standing behind her.

Knowing she didn't have a bodyguard, Tracey gritted her teeth, stomped her foot, and left, carrying her small suitcase.

Entering the only teaching and dormitory building, Tracey felt even more uncomfortable. Unaware that she had to stay on campus, she only brought the simplest luggage, half of which consisted of books, and the rest were items showcasing her taste.

Later, she would have to use the public telephone to call her mother and have her bring the rest of her belongings. Currently, her biggest problem was how to carry her luggage upstairs.

Her dormitory was on the fourth floor, and there was no steward to help her with the suitcase. Every student coming to school had a lot of luggage, making it impossible for anyone to lend a hand. Tracey could only grit her teeth and carry it herself, floor by floor.

Tracey had never done sports before. The most intense activity she engaged in was playing a bit of polo or taking a stroll in the park. Carrying a suitcase up four floors was nearly taking half of her life away.

Arriving at the dormitory, her despair deepened. The dormitories here were temporary, converted from classrooms. A classroom wasn't large, with two beds placed side by side, no partition in the middle, no independent bathroom, and no shower. Apart from the beds, there was only one desk, two chairs, and not even curtains had been installed.

Tracey finally managed to get her suitcase into the dormitory. Just as she was about to sit on the bed and rest for a moment, she realized the bed was harder than the floor at her home, making her feel sore.

Unable to sit, Tracey had to stand up. After a while, her roommate came in, making the room even more cramped.

Tracey had no intention of talking to this girl who looked like she came from the slums. She glared at her fiercely, crossed her arms, and walked out, planning to use this time to look for Bruce's figure.

With more than an hour left before class, Tracey wandered around Gotham University. She found the university activity room, the canteen, and even the gym. She thought she might run into Bruce in these places, but in reality, Bruce had already spent three hours in the library working on his paper.

With no success in her search, Tracey felt extremely frustrated. Seeing that it was almost time, she walked back slowly, thinking that being a few minutes late wouldn't be a big deal.

It wasn't until 9:16 that she arrived at the classroom, which was already filled with people, and the teacher had started the lecture. Tracey swaggered in, found an empty seat, and sat down. The teacher at the front didn't say anything, but the teacher sitting at the back, listening to the class, tapped the desk with a pen.

Instantly, the classroom quieted down. Tracey glanced around and saw everyone staring at her. She coughed lightly, turned her head away, unwilling to talk to them. However, at this moment, she heard a voice coming from the back seats.

"Miss Tracey, you're late."

Tracey widened her eyes, turned around, and looked at Schiller, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, I was busy praying and lost track of time."

Tracey knew this trick worked well. When she was in the church school, as long as she said she was praying, she could avoid any classes she didn't like, and the teacher wouldn't do anything to her.

Unexpectedly, Schiller stood up, pointing his finger towards the door, and said, "Lying is not a good habit. God did not hear your prayers. Now, go outside and stand. If you're late again, you'll be expelled."

Tracey widened her eyes, staring at Schiller in disbelief. But Schiller wasn't joking. He just pointed to the door, and everyone's attention was on Tracey.

Tracey, who had never experienced such a situation, blushed deeply. Tears welled up in her eyes. She stomped her foot and, like a gust of wind, ran out.

Tracey didn't stand outside the door as a punishment but went straight to the public telephone she had seen earlier. She planned to call her mother and complain about how rude this professor was.

Mrs. Goth comforted her daughter but asked her to endure a bit. After all, her mission was to attract Bruce Wayne's attention. She couldn't give up before finding this billionaire.

After hanging up the phone, Tracey cried in frustration, leaning against the corner wall. However, at this moment, she heard a series of footsteps coming from the nearby staircase.

Turning her head, Tracey saw Bruce Wayne's face.

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 758: Miss Goth's Misfortune (Part 2)