Hands-On Discipline
"If you're going to step in and handle the cleanup yourself, I won't stop you."
Professor Nipella couldn't hide the worry in his eyes.
"But... if you do something like that again, I'll have to step in as your professor. I know you're a special enrollee and all, and you're not the type, but still—I've been your teacher before."
"Of course."
"Then, before you go, fill out this quick questionnaire."
Professor Nipella pulled a single sheet of paper from the file he was working on.
"Do you have any grudge against the student?"
"No."
"We'll put 'yes'."
"?"
"Have you met him before?"
"Ah..."
"We'll put 'yes'."
"???"
Hey, Professor?
After a few more loaded questions (with predetermined answers), Professor Nipella slipped the paper back into the file.
I shot him a look that said, What the hell are you doing? He cleared his throat awkwardly and pulled out a fresh sheet.
"You'll understand when you see it."
What the hell is this...?
Fix my son. You can mess with everything except his life and his future children.
"......"
Short, but intense. I was speechless.
It's good for me, but...
Is this even allowed?!
"He was such a little shithead back in the day... that's the polite version, anyway. He caused a ton of trouble. So, if you do have some past grudge... feel free to beat the crap out of him. That's why I filled it out that way. Even if you hit him again, there won't be any issues."
"So it's already decided that I'm the one doing the hitting?"
"As long as you don't kill him, go ahead and beat him."
No, wait—the assumption here is that I'm definitely going to hit him, right?
"Just don't kill him, okay?"
"Obviously not. 'Cleanup' meant I'd actually handle the mess if I caused it..."
"I took it as 'keep your mouth shut'..."
"......"
What the hell does he think of me?
Realizing his misunderstanding, the professor cleared his throat again.
Changing the subject, perhaps, he brought up something else.
"...But why'd you get so worked up all of a sudden? You said you had no connection to him."
"Uh, well..."
What excuse do I give?
Obviously, I can't spill my secrets.
If I suddenly go on about being a reincarnator with some past-life grudge... he'd look at me like I'm pitiful or weird, right?
No thanks to that kind of pity.
"Ah. I remember who he is now."
"Suddenly?"
"The goddess..."
I pretended to receive a revelation and subtly drew out my Divine Power.
Sorry, Arcana!
Hummmm!
Perfectly timed, the sword hilt poked out from under my priest robes.
A voice came through the sword, crackling with static noise only I could hear.
"Yeah. This mess is my fault, so I'll let it slide this once. Do it again, and it's a week of temple cleaning."
One day?
"You think that'll fly?"
Snap.
"A revelation... even back then?"
"......Yeah. Remember when I told you I got bullied in school?"
"Yes."
"I met him then. Didn't recognize his face, but the goddess did. That's why I..."
I trailed off deliberately, acting like it was too awkward to say everything.
It wouldn't fly normally, but...
This incident was tied to a 'god' now. From this moment, the professor had no room to interfere.
As expected, he nodded slowly.
"That makes sense. Everything clicks now."
Gods really are the ultimate wildcard!
"Wildcard for excuses, you mean."
Hey! It's a universal card! Different holes, different pegs!
"I don't know how it happened to you, but... you wouldn't lie invoking a god's name."
Gulp!
"You'd deserve divine punishment for this one."
Nah, between us, this much is fine!
"I'm only letting it slide because it's you."
Thank you! Love you!
"Yeah, me too. Say that to your mom more often."
Mom? What?
"Anyway, I'm out. Call if something comes up."
Okay.
"The goddess you serve has every right to be pissed. Even if she wants divine punishment, it has to go through you... but still, killing him would be a problem."
"It's fine. She said she's satisfied as long as I vent for her."
"Good to hear."
Buildup is key with people.
"Then come on in."
He opened the door, and inside sat a student with his face wrapped head to toe in bandages.
The bandages hid his face completely.
With it covered, none of the similarities stood out. I approached him calmly.
"W-Who the hell are you?!"
Hmm, yeah, I might've gone a bit hard. Just some guy who looked similar...
"A-Are you family of that maid I beat? Or her lover?"
"?"
"N-No! Dad said he handled it properly! And scum like that commoner couldn't even get into this academy!!! Th-Then are you that retard I met at the academy experience program ten years ago?!"
"......?"
"......?"
We stared at each other.
Why dig your own grave?
To begin with, I don't even remember seeing this kid in my past life. I never left the forest.
Hummmm!
Gift.
As if in compensation, the sword trembled.
Letters appeared on the blade—in Korean, visible only to me.
Sheesh, you didn't have to... but if you insist, I'll gladly accept!
"You know him too, huh."
"H-How'd you survive this long...!"
"Just thinking about that time makes my teeth grind. Wonder how much you remember. Wanna crack open that skull and check?"
"H-Hiiiik! P-Professor! S-Save me! D-Dad took care of you..."
"Ah. That's why I'm here."
Nipella showed him the letter he'd received.
"D-Dad...!"
"Since it's from the father you respect and adore so much, shatter that thick skull of yours quietly."
"N-No...!"
Won't kill him, won't kill him.
His face was bandaged now anyway, and knowing he was just a regular piece of trash dulled the rage from before.
If he backed down, I'd let it go too...
But if they've set the stage for me to beat him...
Time to reform one bad apple! For the greater good!
"S-Save..."
"Didn't the kids you beat say the same? Karma's a bitch—take it."
"A-Agh! S-Save...!"
"Shh, kitty cat. Can't be noisy."
"A-Aaaaaagh!"
Thwack! Thudthud! Thwack!
The satisfying sounds of a beatdown echoed through the clubroom.
* * *
"Ughhh..."
"Hey."
"Y-Yes?!"
"Don't you dare unwrap those bandages in front of me. Seeing your face pisses me off."
"Y-Yes..."
This guy's really the infamous trash?
His mental just shattered over that, constantly wailing his dad's name like a total mama's boy—er, daddy's boy.
Makes you wonder if his dad raised him wrong.
But why only call for dad?
Who's the mom?
I thought about asking but dropped it.
Not worth my deep interest anyway.
"All done?"
"Yeah."
"My turn then."
Mosik entered, something slung over his shoulder.
Gym equipment?
Right—Mosik was here to reform these punks too.
"Y-You're... Mosik Karma..."
"Hello."
The guy's eyes widened at Mosik. Thinking he'd come to save him, he scrambled over and clung to his legs.
"Y-You were my drinking buddy...!"
"Buddy, huh. Well, sorry, but I only learned your name recently."
Drinking buddy. Past Mosik... yeah, maybe.
Mosik had been cursed, barely surviving without booze, but this guy was different.
No trace of the curse. His body had grown fine, and his oversized ego wasn't from that.
This creep's over 180cm too.
Makes me wanna grow faster just out of spite!
"And my past self? Pretty embarrassing, if you ask me. So don't think our 'connection' means we'll get along or anything. You think I don't know you sweet-talked me to trash my dad and my family's reputation?"
"Hiiik..."
"I have a lot of questions. And a lot to fix. From now on, during club time, you'll train with me consistently."
"T-Train?"
"Yes."
Thud!
Mosik dropped the gear all at once.
Magic compression?
Once it hit the floor, the crumpled equipment unfolded into sturdy shapes.
"Alright. Squats—1,000 to start."
"H-How many?"
"1,200. Begin."
"No way..."
"Can't do it?"
Mosik looked down like, Second-year and you can't even?
His pride stung, he couldn't flat-out refuse.
"N-No, I can, but..."
"1,300. Begin!"
"It went up again...!"
"Can go higher. 1,304..."
As it climbed more, he hurriedly got into squat position.
"Down. One."
"O-One..."
"Deeper. Wrong form—no count."
I'd healed all his wounds anyway. Bandages? Just to hide his ugly mug from me.
No excuses about his body—Mosik was pro-level at this stuff.
"Oh. Your friends... know any second-year seniors?"
"Uh, y-yeah."
"Keep going without stopping. Come to club time from now on. Bring your friends. If not... think about it."
"H-Hic..."
"Form's slipping! Low weight and you're slacking? Straighten up! Arch that back!"
Karma, plain and simple.
For all the shit he pulled, he deserves this. Real victims would probably throw a party if they saw.
Mosik, now wearing a red cap he'd pulled out, said,
"Eugene."
"?"
"You made me human."
"Uh... ting?"
All I said was 'buck up a bit'...
"So I'll make one too. Body and mind! With these muscles!"
Flex!
Mosik's arm bulged like it might burst.
Damn, those muscles are mesmerizing every time... but a bit gross.
I stepped back awkwardly and nodded.
"Uh, yeah... sure... fighting!"
"Thanks. I'll do my best."
Guess I'm out now?
Grab.
Ashy placed a hand on my retreating shoulder.
Grinning excitedly, she said,
"Eugene. Wanna work out too? Watching that makes my body itch."
......Am I karma too?
As Ashy dragged me off, I caught sight of the student getting royally tormented(?).
For some reason, Arcana's earlier words echoed.
"That guy's up to something weird."
"Don't worry about it. That's my mess to clean. Just hold on a bit—your friend's coming soon. I'll handle mine. You do yours. You can."
......What the hell does that mean?
Something involving me that I don't know about...
For some reason, it made me uneasy.
Really uneasy.
Hummmm.