I Became an Elite University Professor in an Instant

"Wh-what…?"

Too stunned to process it, I stared blankly at the monitor for a long moment. I read it again, then read it a third time, but the text on the homepage refused to change. To be fair, it was all dressed up in the grand language of an official introduction — but scratch the surface even slightly, and it was nothing more than a training academy for sex workers. They even used the word fucktoy outright; apparently it was even more explicit than I'd imagined.

"Wow, holy shit. This is actually unreal."

I was so flabbergasted that all I could produce was a hollow laugh. So the department that arrogant, nose-in-the-air Baek Nahee had enrolled in was that kind of department? The prestigious university she'd bragged about with such swagger, crowing that she was Korea's finest elite — its true identity was an elite whore-training facility that raised top-class sex slaves and fucktoys?

"PWAHAHAHAHA!"

Clutching my belly, I burst into insane laughter. Baek Nahee, who had fought her way through three rounds of the college entrance exam just to get into a prestigious university — all of her own will, to become the state's fine and faithful slave. Now that this mind-boggling truth was laid bare, the memory of her smug face from yesterday kept floating up before my eyes, and there was no stopping the laughter.

Ah, seriously, this altered-common-sense world is out of its mind. A world that hails THIS as elite!

After snickering for a good long while, I opened the Anomaly app right away and reported the massive scoop.

A wide-area composite anomaly?

Compared to the 10 points I'd received at the bathhouse yesterday, the reward felt a bit stingy. When I tilted my head, the AI chatbot promptly pulled up more text.

Added up, all the quest rewards come to almost 50 points. This one's a must-do.

The thought of earning points had me fired up, but soon a wall of reality rose to block my path. How on earth was I supposed to rummage through the inner workings of that closed-off department at an elite university, snapping photos and extracting testimony? It wasn't as if Baek Nahee would sweetly invite me in. As I fumbled this way and that through the Saul University homepage, at a complete loss, a small popup window caught my eye.

"A Practical Training Assistant Professor?"

Digging a little deeper, it looked to be a position much like a professor's, only one rung lower on the ladder. According to the listed duties, the job involved taking personal charge of students and providing support for classes and practical training. Considering what this department really was, wasn't that just a license to fuck women legally, left and right? That alone would have been a jackpot, but it was also the perfect identity for investigating the department's interior legitimately. Yes — perfect. The problem was how I was supposed to land the job.

"I'm a student on leave from some third-rate no-name college. Common sense can be altered all it wants — how the hell do I become a Saul University professor? I don't even have a resume to my name."

I was muttering to myself in sheer disbelief when—

— Riiing

With a chime, a new message appeared in the app's message window.

"What…?"

What is this thing? Did it just hear me and respond? I was floored by the sheer absurdity of it — and yet, at the same time, what the app was offering genuinely whetted my appetite. So if I put my points to good use, I could become that assistant professor or whatever? Honestly, I only half believed it, but I decided to give it a try anyway, chalking it up as money spent. If it failed, no harm done; if it worked, it was a colossal win.

And so I set about doing whatever the app told me to do.

Time slipped by, and a few days later.

"Wow, holy shit. I really did become a Saul University professor."

Leaning back in a top-of-the-line leather chair, I stroked the crystal nameplate sitting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the wide mahogany desk and let out a bemused laugh.

This miracle — my vertical climb from convenience store clerk to professor at the nation's most prestigious university in a matter of days — was entirely thanks to the outright fraudulent powers of shop items. A few days earlier, following the AI's guidance, I had shaken out every last one of my 15 accumulated points and purchased two single-use items.

The moment I activated those abilities, something unbelievable happened. My pathetically thin resume was automatically forged into credentials worthy of the Special Devotion Talent Department — a legendary practitioner of practical training and an internationally trained master of instruction — and transmitted straight to the department head. Then, stirring in just a whisper of the individual-control ability to rattle the man's psyche, I sailed clean past the notoriously strict document screening and interview. In the end, a mere three hours after submitting my paperwork, an email arrived from the department head asking me to start work the very next day.

Anomaly or not, forcibly manufacturing connections like this is straight-up cheating. Was this app itself perhaps an anomaly, then? It did strike me as a little fishy, but whatever — as long as I got the result I wanted, that was all that mattered. I was sunk deep into the wide professor's chair, marinating in sweet victory, when—

— Knock, knock

"Professor, may I come in?"

"Ah, yes. Come in."

The office door opened, and a woman walked in hugging a towering stack of document files to her chest. Dressed in a crisp, put-together business suit with a name tag reading Kim Minjeong pinned to her right breast, she was the department TA assigned to me personally. To think they'd attach a personal assistant to every assistant professor, one you could work to the bone however you pleased. Granted, there was a practical justification — it doubled as training for the graduating seniors — but it was still a policy that made the school's benefits feel downright extravagant.

"You were newly appointed this term, correct? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I look forward to working with you going forward."

"No, no — the pleasure is mine. I look forward to it as well."

After our cozy exchange of greetings, I quietly watched as Kim Minjeong set the files down on the table. At first glance her office look seemed perfectly ordinary, but examined closely, its practicality was staggering. The white blouse was unbuttoned to the precarious edge of the third button, putting her ample cleavage on brazen display, while her black pencil skirt was slit deep to mid-thigh — with every step she took, pale skin and a red lace garter belt peeked out, now teasingly visible, now not.

Wow. Even the TA uniform is just dripping with Special Devotion Talent Department energy.

As I marveled inwardly and smacked my lips, the TA handed me a file binder and spoke in a warm voice.

"Professor, you'll be conducting your practical mentoring classes starting this very semester. To begin, simply choose the three students you'll personally oversee from this roster."

"Three students? That's fewer than I expected."

"Oh, come now, Professor, honestly. No matter how capable you are, putting several students through practical training all at once would drain every last ounce of your stamina."

According to the TA's kind explanation, the department ran on a special mentoring system: a one-to-three setup in which a single professor stayed glued to a mere three students for an entire semester, drawing out the very limits of their physical and mental capacity for service. That was the official framing, anyway — in practice, it was nothing short of a fucktoy harem system for putting three students through intensive hands-on sessions in the professor's private office.

Truly insane. Where else on earth do you find a honey pot like this?

Barely suppressing the corners of my mouth as they fought to curl upward, I flipped through the student roster with the most solemn, serious face I could muster. The pages were crammed with the profiles and ID photos of countless female students. That said, who on earth was I supposed to pick? Officially, inside and out, I'd been presented as a seasoned master trainer — but the truth was, I was nothing more than an ordinary convenience store clerk. Naturally, I had no earthly way of knowing who was any good. To start, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I checked off the names of two students near the front who caught my eye — young-faced and pretty. Lee Songi. And Cha Suah. With those two secured, I began flipping through the roster in search of that final name.

And when I turned to the very last page, there she was at last — the ID photo of that familiar, haughty face.

Found you. Baek Nahee.

Without a flicker of hesitation, I scrawled a huge star beside Baek Nahee's profile. The TA took back my list, and the moment her eyes fell on Baek Nahee's name, her brow creased into a troubled look.

"Um… Professor. Lee Songi and Cha Suah are diligent and pliant, so they're fine, but this Baek Nahee student…."

"Oh? Is there some problem with her?"

"Well… her grades are at the very bottom, for one, and her rebellious streak is severe — her head's so full of elite delusions that her attitude is simply dreadful."

"Oh, is that so?"

"She's a live grenade that even the other professors all steer clear of. Are you certain you'll be all right? You can still change your selection now, if you like."

So the self-crowned queen bee who'd swaggered around so arrogantly was, when it came to actual practical training, written off as a delinquent and avoided by everyone. Well, fair enough — a girl so busy living off her own preciousness was hardly going to play someone else's fucktoy. You, my dear, have walked right into the perfect trap. And this time, I'll be the one to make you into a proper one. Putting on a deliberately stern, dependable true-mentor's face, I answered with firm resolve.

"Worry not. Isn't it precisely a professor's calling to take in students like her — the ones who've fallen furthest behind — and never give up on them?"

"Professor…!"

"I will take full responsibility and rebuild that rotten attitude of hers from the ground up."

At my ringing declaration, the TA clasped her hands together, visibly moved, and broke into a radiant smile.

"Understood. I'll finalize the roster with these three, then book your first one-on-one session for this very afternoon and send the students up to your office."

"Yes, please do."

After the TA glided out on soft, quiet steps, I watched the door clunk shut — and finally let loose the smile I'd been holding back. Before long, Baek Nahee would be seeing it with her own eyes: that nobody convenience store clerk from a third-rate college, sitting there as a Saul University professor. Just what kind of face would that bitch make?

Look forward to it, Baek Nahee. As your professor, I'm going to teach you very, very thoroughly.

Anticipating the sweet yet shameless campus life about to unfold, I sank deep into the plush professor's chair.