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"Just the fact that you managed to get into a more-or-less exclusive presentation at a prestigious medical university. Only a jutsu could accomplish making you look four years older. While I don't approve of this sneaking around, I'm very glad you all came."

"Faust?" the reporter asked. Faust turned politely to face him, but the reporter's audacity at just calling him by his last name obviously left its impression on him.

"I wanted to know if you'd answer a few questions."

"No time," Faust said airily, slipping away through the crowd. The reporter cursed and started to follow him.

"Go do your homework or go to a party, or whatever it is you college students do!" the reporter snapped, pursuing Faust. "Faust! Come back here! Is it true that you escaped an assylum?"

Faust met Netsubo's eyes. He looked frantic and afraid. Not here! We're in a crowded place!

"Just because you don't want to believe things doesn't make them lies," the reporter said haughtily, straightening his jacket pompously. "You kids today... so arrogant..." he turned to the jock kid. "How did you like Faust's speech? Do you believe that he was in an assylum for the mentally unsound, and that he murdered his wife seven years ago?"

"I thought the presentation sucked," the jock kid said. "He talked too fast, and he acted crazy... what he said made no sense whatsoever. I wouldn't be surprised if he did kill his wife, and I think that he should go back to the insane assylum."

Faust put his hand on Netsubo's shoulder. "Sir, I will answer your questions... I'll ask you not to put my friends on the spot like you have been. Please, as a professional, I'll ask you to be one."

"Faust." the reporter said. "How long did it take you to find the cure for this strain of sleeping sickness?"

"About seven hours," Faust said truthfully. "I had been thinking about it for awhile, though, so..."

"So you're very intelligent, or think you are," the reporter concluded, scribbling on his notepad. "And how did you escape from the insane assylum?"

"If you'd like to know," Faust said calmly, "Good behaviour and taking one's medications are highly beneficial when it comes to escaping such situations."

"And what about the late Eliza Faust?" the reporter asked, leaning forward eagerly. The jock smirked.

"No comment," Faust replied, retaining his composure beautifully. "I was devastated, needless to say... I miss her every day."

"But, did you murder her?"

"Sir, I apologize in advance for the impoliteness of my answer. Go to hell," Faust said.

"I'll leave, but not because you told me to," the reporter snapped. "Look forward to the headlines in tomorrow's paper, "Doctor" Faust."

"Have a good evening, sir," Faust answered politely.