Bunker Full of Bling and Classroom Heart Signals
"Your arms are the best, honeyyy…."
A storm had swept through the dining hall, leaving utter chaos in its wake. Shattered plates scattered across the floor. Mashed food and splattered whipped cream everywhere. We'd moved to the sofa. Thud. "Haa… haa…." I leaned my back deep into it. My whole body felt utterly drained. Like all the energy from days and nights had been wrung out of me. The enhancement magic on the omurice had finally worn off. The backlash hit me like a freight train. Every breath made my lungs tingle sharply.
"Ughhhh…."
A groan like an old man's escaped me involuntarily. And in my arms.
"Ugh… uuugh…."
A lifeform melting away like slime, all limp and wobbly. Elma. Her barley-colored skin smeared with fluids and whipped cream. Her light brown twintails undone. Her small, plump little body heaved up and down in my embrace, shuddering with colorful aftershocks.
"Ugh…."
Her flushed-red face buried deep into my bare chest. A plaintive whine laced with reproach. "You beast…." Her tiny lips panted ragged breaths. "Haa… I, I really… went way too hard… thought I was gonna dieee…."
"……."
Who was to blame here?
"Who's the one who provided the cause, huh?"
I lifted my weary hand to stroke her floppy head.
"What kind of magic did you put on it to turn a guy into a beast like that?"
It had been explosive stamina that nearly blew away all reason. We'd almost gone all night right there on the table.
"Ughhh…."
A cute little sulk. And yet. Elma's face was beaming wide open. She grumbled complaints, but couldn't hide the grin tugging at her lips. A smile like she owned the world. Bliss. Relief. The gaze of a beast stripped of reason. The rough hands and breaths that had devoured her body. Satisfaction that this small, insecure frame of hers had pleased her husband as a woman. That joy was washing away the deep-seated complex etched into her bones.
"Still thoughhh…."
She nuzzled her crown against my chin. "You were so into me, honey… hehe…."
"Can't win against you, really."
I pulled her spoiled little body tight into my arms. The fatigue melted away like snow. Warm body heat. A nutty, savory scent. We stayed tangled like that for a good while, catching our breaths.
"Feeling sane again now?"
"Uuuun…."
The exhausted Elma feebly wiggled a finger. Whirr-.Clank, clank. Tiny golems in maid outfits approached. Mechanical arms extended from all directions. Swish- swish- Arms holding warm wet towels bustled about diligently. They carefully wiped away the sticky sweat, fluids, and whipped cream traces. They gently stripped off her tattered maid outfit. Swish- And dressed her in her usual see-through negligee. It was like an automatic car wash.
"I'm good."
[Yes. Husband.]
I was too embarrassed and did it myself.
"Might as well check out the cafe since we're here."
"Yeah!"
I stood up. Scooped Elma up princess-style. Her little legs dangled beyond my wrapped arms.
"Hehe."
A pleased hum. Her short, sturdy arms wrapped obediently around my neck.
"This place is seriously huge."
I marveled as I walked the hallway. Marble floors. Walls lined with antique paintings. Countless golems bustling about, dusting and polishing.
Not a cafe—a mansion. How the hell did they build this overnight?
"Four PhDs really make a difference, huh?"
Elma looked up at me proudly. She could read my mind now, too?
"Yeah. You're amazing."
Even her bragging was cute, so I kissed her forehead.
"Hehe."
Elma tightened her arms around my neck.
As we walked the hall.
"Huh?"
One door stood out, totally out of place. A design clashing hard with the sweet cafe vibe. A crude steel door like a bank vault.
"What's this?"
"Oh, that?"
Elma tilted her head from my arms. "Nothing special. This cafe was built onto an old bunker that was here. That's the storeroom from way back."
A storeroom, huh. Curiosity piqued. Our greedy genius professor. What treasures had she hoarded?
"Can I open it?"
"Sure! It's probably unlocked."
I cautiously turned the handle. Creeeak-. The heavy door swung open with a rusty screech.
"……."
I almost wished I'd passed out. The sight before me. Iron shelves lining the walls. A shimmering, subtle golden glow.
"What the hell is this doing here?"
Not a gun nut, but even I could tell. AK rifles. Gold-plated ones, gleaming shiny. Neatly stacked metal tubes beside them. RPGs. Ammo crates piled like mountains. Even heaps of familiar sand-colored military uniforms.
"…."
Not replicas or toys. The real deal, reeking of iron and gunpowder—a proper armory.
"Elma…."
I pinched my forehead. My temples throbbed.
"Just to be sure."
"Yeah?"
"That… uncle you traded with before."
I swallowed dryly. "Saddam Hussein… right?"
"Ah! Yep!"
Way too chipper a reply.
"You really traded with that Hussein…?"
I let out a disbelieving chuckle. My wife, contractor for a dictator.
"Don't worry though! Got paid properly! Real dollars! Not supernotes!"
"It's not about the money!"
Elma kicked her little legs in my arms. Casual tone, like it was no big deal.
"While building the bunker, I poked around nearby and found some fun toys. They were gold-plated and sparkly."
"So?"
"Borrowed a few!"
Borrowed? She says raiding a dictator's armory so brightly.
"Was gonna return 'em someday, but the guy up and died on me. So I just kept 'em!"
"……."
Died on his own? The guy got caught by the US and hanged.
Dictator. Mass murderer. Those labels meant nothing to this dwarf PhD. Just a 'mustached uncle who paid in real dollars.'
Her scale was on another level.
Yeah….
I quietly shut the steel door.
So what if she raided a dictator's stash.
I gave up thinking. As long as she was healthy and happy. This tiny, lovable wife in my arms.
"Good job, Elma."
"Right? I'm super thrifty!"
Her Majesty shrugged her shoulders, nose in the air. Adorable in my eyes.
End of the hall. We boarded the elevator to the top floor.
"What's the top level?"
"A room I made to clean Master's ears!"
Ear cleaning room. Made sense—Japanese maid cafes had that service.
Ding-. Doors opened.
"……."
I let my guard down. Fooled again. I'd imagined a simple tatami room for ear picks. Instead, floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond them, an artificial waterfall the size of a house pouring fiercely. Must've been behind the mansion, out of sight. Floor covered in a Middle Eastern carpet that looked ready to fly. 'No way she stole that too…?' I swallowed the thought.
And in the center, the furniture.
"Why is the bed that huge?"
At least ten meters wide and long. Insane size. Ten grown men could lie head-to-toe with room to spare. I laughed helplessly and approached the bed. Gently set down the Elma in my arms.
"Hehe."
Fluffy mattress. Elma hummed happily and rolled around on the sheets. I stripped off my outer clothes and lay beside her.
Flop. No sooner had I lain down than the little body scurried over. Burrowed into my chest and plastered herself tight. Curled up round. Like a hamster in hibernation.
"Your arms are the best, honeyyy…."
Her voice dripped with sleepiness.
"Said you'd clean my ears. Just gonna sleep?"
"Uun… too tired todayyy…. Tomorrow, okayyy…."
Her eyelids drooped heavily. She'd built a cafe all night. Maid cosplay. Even a defensive battle of duty. Even a sturdy dwarf would be wiped out.
I slowly patted her little back. Pat- pat-. Soon, steady breathing filled the room.
"Zzz… grrr… zzz… grrr… nom…."
She smacked her lips. Started snoring and teeth-grinding. Like some uncle.
"Pfft…."
Even that was kill-me-cute. How long did I watch her, lulled by the snores?
"Nom…."
Mumbling. Sleep-talking now.
"Moe moe… kyun…."
"Pfft!"
Tiny maid chief. Running her cafe in dreams too, huh. A dopey grin spread on her face. Must be one happy dream for sleep-talk like that. I reached to gently stroke the back of her head.
"Daring to flirt with my husband…?"
Her tone dropped low and cold.
"You vixen bitches… gonna napalm you allll…."
Chilling. Goosebumps prickled my spine. The cute creature was plotting murder.
"The rest… Agent Orange 'em all… hyaa…."
"……."
"Hehe…."
But her face. Pure and innocent as a child. Utterly lovable.
"Husband's… mine…."
Her tiny hands clutched my shirt tight. Then a relieved hum.
"Forever… only look at meee…."
Fierce words. But beneath them, deep love and possessiveness. She caused huge messes sometimes, but right now it just seemed like petulant whining.
"Of course."
Her soft breaths evened out. I kissed her sweaty forehead gently. Mwah.
"Gonna look only at Elma forever."
I tightened my embracing arm softly. Closed my eyes too. Had to help her tiny queen with maid-chief duties in her dreams.
The fun weekend passed. Two full days underground, just us in maid roleplay.
And the next day. Monday morning. Korea University Magitech Building, Room 301.
"……."
The lecture hall was dead silent, not a breath out of place. Up on the podium. Click. Click. Irritated high-heel taps. A chilling glare and haughty expression. Lips pursed tight. Dignity befitting a genius grand mage and youngest tenured professor. Elma Bronzebeer.
Dozens of students stared ahead nervously. Shock. Anxiety. Sweating bullets. And for good reason. Sure, she'd been mocked after her true form was exposed. But once her spirit returned, Elma retaliated twice as viciously. She unleashed the pent-up fiery temper. Etched anew in their minds: 'Looks changed, but the personality's the same.' Even those ridiculous '15cm heels' looked scary now.
Snap. Elma flicked her finger lightly.
Shwoop-! Her light brown twintails floated into the air. Hair strands coiled around chalk, dancing across the blackboard. Tap. Tap. Rat-a-tat! Speed no human wrist could match. Printer-perfect handwriting. Gasps erupted as always.
"How is that even possible…."
"No human could… well, she's a dwarf anyway…."
Elma swept the room with a disgusted glare.
"Got time to chat? Roll that brain of yours again. Or is it just decoration?"
Icy venom. Students jolted and pretended to take notes. But. The one who knew the professor's true nature.
Me. Propped chin at the back row, enjoying the fearsome act.
Swish. Elma's head, which had frozen the room, turned slightly. Over the bowed heads of terrified students. Our eyes met in midair.
"……."
Silence.
Her frost-queen face melted away softly. The forced stern lips twitched upward.
"Ahem."
Her Majesty coughed, trying to hold the strict facade. But behind her.
Wiggle. Wiggle.
"……?"
Far right edge of the blackboard. Two hair strands secretly intertwined. Forming a shape. A tiny, cute heart. Her special flirt, every time our eyes met.
'She's driving me insane with cuteness…!'
My chest ached sweetly. This is why I go to college. Who called her a heartless psychopath? Our tiny, lovable professor like this.