The Salary Fairy Loves Debt Collection
Sion's talk of a "transformation" meant exactly what it sounded like. The place she dragged me to was a ritzy suit shop smack in the center of the capital. Right on the boulevard linking the academy and the imperial palace—land values here looked obscenely high at a glance. The interior dripped with gold leaf and crystals, every conceivable luxury slathered on like it was going out of style. And that was my kryptonite.
Shops like this made my wallet feel thinner the moment I stepped inside. I didn't fit in, didn't want to...
But Sion just said,
"Uncle. Try on everything from here to here, one by one."
"Huh?"
"I'd love to get you custom-made, but you need them starting tomorrow, so off-the-rack it is. I'll pick out three that suit you best. Go on."
No matter that she was a nouveau duke's daughter. This was the dignity of a duke's lady. A single tie here could wipe out my monthly salary, but she acted like it was nothing, dressing me up without a care.
Why? Why me...?
"Wait, hold on... You're buying these?"
"Of course."
"I don't need this stuff! It doesn't suit my station, doesn't fit me! What I'm wearing now is fine!"
"Doesn't suit your station? Then what should the uncle of Lagrange's duke's lady—the hero of the world—wear?"
Truth be told, I was flat broke. If that's the case, hell, a single pair of underwear oughta do it...
"Aargh, anyway, no! No matter what, I hate owing anyone!"
"It's a favor, not a debt. Take it while you can."
Of course, refusing wouldn't change her mind. Instead of arguing, I caught the sharp gaze peeking from under her falling fan and resigned myself to trying on every damn thing in the store, swallowing my pride.
"Haaah..."
Swish.
In the end, just as she intended, I woke up the next morning and donned the high-end suit. Staring at my ridiculously oversized frame in that getup, a sigh escaped me on reflex.
I knew teaching was tough, but did working at this damn Imperial Academy really mean fussing over appearances like this...?
If that's the game, wouldn't it be way easier to join a guild and hunt down demon remnants?
Squeeze.
But no turning back now. I shoved those useless thoughts aside, tightening my tie around my neck like a noose.
"No complaints. Don't wanna fight anymore, Joseph."
Probably never shake that mindset, but for now, best to memorize my students' faces like I planned yesterday. Do my duty, give it my all.
Haa—
All I could hope was they wouldn't cause any more trouble.
* * *
So I'd even prepped my first-day intro. The class was management-focused, so not much to say to the students, but:
"Hey. I'm Joseph, the salary fairy crashing in the dorm lounge. Circumstances forced me into being your full-time prof. Write-ups are fine, but if my pay gets docked, I'll carve your bodies into star shapes and..."
That nailed the core of how I'd handle teaching, right?
Plus, even if I didn't ask for it, now I had nice clothes. Feeling sharp and refreshed for once, I strode into the Mist Flower Class.
Slide.
"What the hell? Why are there only this many?"
Just two students in their seats.
Of course, after yesterday's brawl with Irina and Zigrinde—one in the hospital, one in isolation—I knew that much. But even so, weren't four more missing? The class quota was eight, after all.
"Professor. Good morning."
One of the two was, naturally, Sion. For a problem-child class reject, she never caused her own trouble—a model student. She greeted me in place of our bedridden class rep, her face bright as sunshine.
But even that didn't ease the nagging doubt. How dare they. I was about to introduce myself, and the rest ditched?
Did they all have a death wish?
"...Should I take roll? No need for Miss Sion since she's here."
So, channeling the professor's ultimate move from my college days: "No headcount? Call roll mercilessly and dock points." I was the mid-semester replacement, so details were fuzzy, but if they thought no prof meant skip day...
They'd pay for treating me like shit—with demerits.
Flip.
My roll book page turned crisply with those thoughts.
"Tiel Kelga. Thirteenth son of Count Kelga?"
"Y-yes... Yes!"
Well... with Sion, that made one. Anticlimactic.
"Hello?"
"A-ah... H-hello— G-good morning!"
This kid looked timid at a glance, gutsier than a cockroach in my house? Definitely from yesterday's chaos.
Strong guys like me don't bother memorizing weaklings, especially ones hiding behind Sion like him...
But he stuck out. Pale skin, arms wrapped in bandages like he'd been hurt, shockingly bouncy golden blond hair and blue eyes—a pretty boy hard to forget.
The Mist Flower Class's sole male...? That's wrong. Gotta fix it.
Scribble.
This one. In the original story, she's a girl, right? How could I forget that?
Crossdressing now, registered male, but my cousin sis wrote her as female.
"Student, our eyes met yesterday."
"Uh... Y-you remember...?"
"Of course. You bolted like I'd seen something I shouldn't—hurt my feelings, honestly."
"S-sorryyy...!"
"No need to apologize."
But I had no hobby digging up secrets. I brushed off his cringe casually.
With the others not even showing, sitting there warming the seat made him a fairy already.
"So, where are the other students? ...I mean, you two."
When I asked, Tiel mumbled evasively, but Sion spoke right up.
"You know about the two out from yesterday's incident, so we'll skip them, Professor."
"Thanks."
Oh, she's a gem. If only she always acted this class-rep perfect, unlike that helmet fanatic Irina.
But the truth she spilled? Kinda shocking.
"Of the other four absentees, three just ditched."
"...Huh?"
"Yes, literally. They skipped. One has an excuse, and a few always refused classes... but after the last prof quit, one more joined the no-shows."
........
.......
......
Got it? What kinda insane class is this?
"Besides the three playing hooky, what's the one with the excuse?"
"A student named Yusteria."
"Ah. Oh."
Ah. Her?
That name hit, and I swallowed hard, keeping quiet.
"Yusteria's suspended. First in our year."
One week into the semester. Shortest suspension ever.
...Well.
Checks out. That psycho would.
When I first got the Mist Flower roster, the one I eyed warily wasn't hothead Zigrinde—it was her. Among the original's crazies, Yusteria was peak insanity...
So no surprise there.
Fuck. What now.
But sitting here dumbfounded soured my prof debut. And suddenly, I got why the last guy quit.
If students pull this shit, what's the point of babysitting for a paycheck?
Part of me wanted to plop Sion and Tiel at a table, break out Lumicubes, and slack off.
...But no. Pride, man.
I'd boasted to Duke Laval I'd do great, took a suit from his daughter—what kinda clownery was this?
"Then today's plan is set."
I spoke up. Sion cut past fidgeting Tiel:
"Anything you say, Professor."
"Can't fix suspensions, so table that... Today, we hunt down the skippers."
All of 'em if possible. Time to school them on ignoring their prof—hard.
And the first target? Obvious.
"Starting with Orlan."
"...Oh ho."
Her usual pure smile twisted into sharp mockery, like she'd been waiting.
"──Excellent choice, Professor? She hasn't shown once since term started."
"Then tell me: Where's Count Orlan's daughter, Alun Orlan?"
"Family ruined, nowhere to go, so she's holed up in the dorms, not coming out."
"Good. Let's go. Tiel too."
"Y-yes?!"
This wasn't remotely about grudge-holding over that deposit-stealing landlord.
Just like her deadbeat dad who ripped me off and ran, if she kept skipping...
It was prof duty: show her the brutal punishment awaiting.
Perfectly justified. Charging now. My fists'll sting real good.