Chapter 5: Just Do It? What a Load of Bullshit
Do I just have to do it? What the hell. What kind of full-time professor bullshit is this? Just a month ago, I was a clear-headed, good-natured guy rocking on a porch swing in some rural backwater.
Forget how grueling it'll be. This doesn't make any goddamn sense logically.
That's why I just asked. Without a shred of suspicion. Just wondering what the fuck was going on.
"...If I may be so bold, I have zero expertise in education. Can I really take on a full-time professor position just like that?"
"Ah, yeah... that."
Pfft—
But the moment I asked if this made any sense, one of the other professors in the office—who'd been half-listening—couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.
......
What the sudden fuck? What's so funny about me becoming a full-time professor?
"Hah...?"
I shot the guy a glare, and he whistled innocently, looking away like nothing happened. Sweat beading on his forehead and all.
But that just made him look even more suspicious. The atmosphere wasn't fooling anyone. Hell, thinking that crap would cover it up makes him the idiot.
Instinct kicked in. These assholes have some scheme going...>
"Ahem, Sir Joseph. If you'd hear me out first."
Seeming to catch my wary look, the glasses-wearing professor who'd been explaining everything shrugged and tried to redirect my gaze.
"Well... you're right, actually. Full-time would be a stretch. Sir Laval requested that we appoint you as a special swordsmanship professor."
"Obviously. Who the hell is that guy?"
"But your reputation is just too grand for something like 'special,' isn't it? Who are you? The strongest swordsman who slew the Demon King. Humanity's guardian!"
Are you serious? Why the bootlicking hero speech right now?>
"So the principal saw you arrive and thought it was a waste to limit you to special duty. He changed it to full-time himself."
..........
......
....
Bullshit.
Like hell that's how it works. If the Hero says jump, you jump. Who the fuck dares spit in the face of a duke's request?
"Ignoring Sir Laval's word?"
"...Even with his feats leading the Demon King subjugation, inside these walls, the principal's word is law."
"Hah?"
Snicker...
"Practical circumstances don't always align, so we can't always grant requests. The countryside where you were, Sir Joseph, and the imperial capital? Fundamentally different. And here, that's just how it is."
"........."
"Well, can't say I blame you for not getting it. You were dragged out by that Orlan Count mess against your will, so you're still adjusting."
As he adjusted his glasses, the praise from earlier vanished from his eyes. I knew that look all too well from years in society.
Contempt. Dismissal.
I got the message loud and clear. 'Parachute hire with a big mouth...'>
Hah... Fucking romance fantasy novel, alright. These pricks are ganging up to put me in my place.
Always whining about being drained, retired for it—and they think that's the real deal?
That's when it hit me. What Sion said last night in the carriage. This academy's full of wolves pretending to be sheep.
My niece. She saw right through the mess her pathetic uncle was walking into.
"Ahem. We figured a warrior like you, who felled the Demon King, would accept gladly. Didn't expect so much hesitation."
Yeah, tons. Right now, I'm worried about what happens if I rip all your heads off here.
But that'd get me branded a criminal, and I'd be next on the subjugation list after the Demon King. Not ideal.
So I swallowed my rage a hundred times over and said,
"Anyway, 'practical circumstances' not ideal? What was the problem?"
"Oh, there was one. The previous full-time prof for your class couldn't handle the students."
"That's it?"
"Hate to say it, but... your class is full of kids with strong personalities."
And he handed me a chart listing eight student names.
"Care to take a look?"
Whoa, holy shit.
While fuming at the obvious setup, honestly... I could see why you'd wanna bolt. The chart was packed with total lunatics.
How the fuck does a class get assigned like this? Even the top few names screamed 'academy's all-stars of trouble.'
"But they're all good kids at heart. Put your heart into it, and you'll manage!"
"...Ah, haha."
"Pardon?"
"So that's it. Crystal clear now."
And that's when I figured out their exact game.
Simple as hell. These names on the chart? Infamous hellraisers from the capital's nobility.
They knew my scruffy ass well enough—raging about the countryside and Orlan Count proved it.
So they'd think: Joseph's back from retirement unwillingly. He won't know these little demons from their names alone.
Hand him the chart, he'll assume hormonal teens, take the full-time gig. Then these uncontrollable monsters break him, and he cracks and runs.
I could see it plain as day. My disheveled look was begging for it. That's what they wanted to see.
As that sank in—beyond annoyance and bullshit—a buried fury started bubbling up.
Even imperial snobs have limits to their disdain. I'm a reincarnator, a veteran. The guy who ended the Demon King.
And I look that fucking funny to you?
Part of me wanted to yell "I'm out, you fucks" and storm off. Best case.
"Oh."
But then, scanning the last page of the chart, I spotted the most familiar name.
Sion Lagrange
And it all clicked.
...Aigoo, my niece! No wonder she didn't mention school life in the carriage. Her class assignment was fucked.
How rough must that have been? Raised right, stuck schooling with these maniacs.
Plus, even scratched out, the previous prof's note lingered.
"A young lady ignorant of her place. Overvalues herself despite not being central nobility. Subject to academic disciplinary action."
...Look at that cute little write-up.
Dealt that shit and still coming to school? No wonder she kept quiet about it.
Sion yesterday brimmed with duke's daughter confidence. Admitting rejection at school? Pride wouldn't allow it.
Even Laval's safety net got brushed off as 'principal's word.' No exceptions for a duke's daughter.
Lagrange might be a duke house, but why this treatment? Beats me.
But what I knew now? Seeing their smug faces pissed me off enough.
And that was plenty.
If she'd told her uncle sooner, I'd have killed them all.
Crunch—
"Pen."
"...Pardon?"
"No pen, so gimme one. That one tucked in your pocket."
"...Ah, y-yes."
Glasses dude fumbled hesitantly, handing it over like he was dazed.
"Ow, fuck. Why's this thing jammed... Better buy a new one."
Scritch, screeech—
Half-curious, half-pissed, I underlined every name on the chart. Signed above them.
Shoved it in his face.
"Here."
"Wait. You're taking it?"
"Can't you tell? Full-time professor, right?"
"Ah... Yes."
It was acceptance of the post.
"Nice play, though."
"Pardon?"
"Dumping full-time on a rookie prof is funny enough. Then handing him a basket of hellraisers."
His face drained of color, like I'd called their bluff.
"...What do you mean?"
"Those students? Impressive resumes. 'Good kids' my ass... Made me wonder. You think I'm some spineless sea cucumber drifting along?"
"Misunderstanding, perhaps."
Misunderstanding my ass. Shut your trap.
"Whatever. My job's turning these into people. That it?"
"...Yes."
"Then as you wish."
But I had words left.
"Just one piece of advice."
Haaa... I sighed deep.
Steady voice, I intoned,
"You said countryside and capital are different worlds? Spot on. Here, you can talk shit without consequences... Not in the sticks."
"Eek..."
"So if you value your neck, drop the arrogance next time. I'll show you country ways then."
BAM—
With that, I slammed the door on my way out.
Unfuckable scum. No help from them now.
But didn't matter.
Me, who bagged the Demon King? Controlling eight brats? Piece of cake, idiots.
For now, just looking forward to Sion's face when she sees me. She'd been moping nonstop.
Uncle here's fired up—thanks to you getting shit on. Was gonna half-ass it.
Can't start work today, though. Review academy rules, meet the kids tomorrow.
"Uh, full-time prof for Mist Flower Class. Is Sir Joseph in?!"
"What. Haven't even changed yet."
"S-Sorry! But you have to hear this!"
Before I could even change—let alone shake the venom from the office guide—a knock at my new office door.
Whoever it was, pointless talk and I'd blow up. Cannon time, maybe.
"Mist Flower Class's h-h-h... st-student..."
"Gonna pass out. Breathe. Speak slow."
"Zigrinde... Lady Zigrinde..."
"Zigrinde...? Oh, that battle maniac kid."
But her next words made my mind reel.
"She charged the class rep, the 'Northern Grand Duchess'—and inflicted serious injury!"
"Oh, fuck."
"You need to hurry!"
......
For real? Hope Sion's okay.