75. All Grad Students Are Slaves
Only after I soothed Alphapago did I finally manage to step out of the library. That pathetic calculator was bawling its eyes out like crazy. A mesugaki like her crying her heart out? Total disgrace for a mesugaki♥ "Wasting sweat over just one document? Complete disaster♥ I wanna wash up and crash already♥ Tyranno's totally wiped out♥"
I stretch my arms high above my head, yawning wide. My joints pop and crack, stretching out like they're growing. I've heard that yawning stretches the gaps between your joints and makes you taller—is that for real? Should I ask the pathetic Doctor to build a robot that grabs my cute little limbs and yanks them long? I picture myself gripped by robot arms, stretched up and down like taffy. 'Guaaaah! It huuuurts! Stoooop!' Hmm... sounds like it'd hurt a ton. And since the spine has the most joints, if it goes wrong, I might end up with a freakishly long waist like a cat dangling by its paws. No need to mess with this Tyranno-sama's perfect proportions.
It's getting late anyway—time to head back, wash up, and hit the sack before the fatigue really kicks in. Just as I'm about to tell the pathetic cat I'm sleepy and crashing, someone approaches from the shadowy corner of the hallway.
"Ah, hello... You two must be Tyranno-sama and Lion-sama, right?"
"Eh... what's this, a zombie?"
She totally deserved the zombie nickname. For real. Her eyes are sunken deep with massive dark circles, making her look hollowed out. She shuffles along like seaweed drifting in the ocean, her limp limbs drooping like they belong to a newborn lamb with zero strength. She'd fit right in as a zombie extra on a low-budget set. Her clothes look like they were swiped straight from a donation bin—baggy, frayed, and ragged enough that a homeless lady might toss her a scarf with a pitying "Kid, you'll freeze to death like that..." The white lab coat she's barely wearing looks clean-ish, but it's splattered with all sorts of chemicals and reagents, so it's filthy just the same. One look and you know this is what "alive but dead inside" looks like.
She's been living off instant noodles with zero exercise—hell, she probably built the pathetic Great Wall single-handedly—because her tits, ass, and thighs are plump as hell. No, seriously—her boobs are bigger than my head! Tits the size of my face! Carrying around those useless massive fat sacks... No way a pathetic loser like her has a boyfriend, let alone held a guy's hand. If she did snag one, hugging him would smother his face in her flab and suffocate him on the spot. Who the hell wants tits bigger than their head that can kill a man? A fashion f like her wouldn't know the first thing about clothes that fit—she probably just throws on oversized hoodies. Then a gust of wind hits, flapping the fabric and exposing those monster jugs for the world to see. Total embarrassment!
"Heh♥ What's this♥ A new zombie model from Darkness R&D♥"
"I-I'm not a zombie... though I did have that nickname... but I'm still human..."
I poke the zombie loser's belly. Decent jiggle, but not as flabby as I thought. Fat's all piled up top, but her stomach's surprisingly flat?
"Ooh♥ Check out this pork belly♥ More like five-layer pork♥ Just harvest that and humanity's food crisis is solved♥ Not just any zombie—you're a pig zombie♥" Poke poke poke♥
"Th-this isn't fat, it's thicc... Lots of guys like thicc girls..."
"Fat girls always say they're not fat, just thicc♥ Then what's all this♥ Scrape off that blubber and you could fuel a trip to Mars♥"
Elon Muskme(lon) was looking for a way to Mars? It's right here!
"Pathetic zombie♥ Pig zombie♥ Bet your veins pump cooking oil instead of blood♥ You'll never even talk to a guy your whole life♥ And this Tyranno-sama's words are your last chance with one♥ So tragic♥"
"N-no, that's not true... I'm super popular..."
"Popular? You mean you've got a mountain of leftover delivery containers at home♥ VVVIP pig zombie delivery app addict♥"
Bet the delivery app HQ rolls out a red carpet made of jjampong broth and ramen wrappers just for her.
"Ugh... no... I'm thicc... and super popular..."
The pathetic zombie doesn't outright deny it, just fidgets with her loser fingers.
"Enough teasing, Tyranno. We'll be seeing her around, so don't overdo it or it'll backfire."
"Seeing her around? Me and this pathetic zombie? Why?"
No way this mood-ruining, greasy beta female loner and this alpha male Tyranno-sama have overlapping worlds. We're from different planets. Insiders can't grasp outcast life, and outcasts can't fathom insiders. Obviously, this Tyranno-sama's a total outcast. The ultimate 100% outcast cheering "Fight on, azza azza outcast!" type. Good for her?
Lion adds an explanation about the pathetic zombie.
"You didn't know? This is Master's Student, the new assistant Doctor just hired."
Doctor hired a new assistant? Makes sense, kinda weird she didn't have one sooner. With her lazy ass hating work and half-assing everything, you'd think she'd grab an android or some disposable minions to slack off with. Guess my curiosity's answered—she finally got one.
"But Master's Student? Did she change her name to that, or was it always?"
"Master's is my real name... Mister's the nickname I got after joining here."
Master's Student... Master's... "Master" means quick shooter. In other words, premature ejaculator...! Proved she's a third-rate virgin loser with Confucius's three-logic and this Tyranno-sama's genius fortune-telling.
"Got her master's in magic studies, now under Doctor for her PhD."
"Magic studies? That pathetic magic the Magical Girl Association teaches?"
The knockoff magic the lame Association cooked up imitating our Darkness spells. Something about refining emotional energy into mana, human will blah blah... Doctor explained it once in passing, but it was so lame I forgot. Rumor has it there's some magic academy too. They spread it wide to magical girls, but it's leagues below Darkness magic. My whip alone baffles human tech. The gap? Jet age vs. Stone Age spear fights. Smart move joining Darkness to learn real magic. What good's Association trash♥
"So she's a grad student slave♥"
"...Yeah, you could put it that way."
"Pfft♥ Name's Master's, villain name's Mister♥ Born to be a grad student♥ Destined slave from birth♥ Loser life start♥ Sidewalk gum life♥"
Grad student under pathetic Doctor? Can't even imagine. Worse than death.
"I-it's tough, but... my fault for being inadequate, hehe..."
The pathetic zombie gives a miserable laugh.
"Oh... med time already..."
Meds? Sick from slaving under pathetic Doctor? I figure she'll pull pills from her pocket, but out comes a syringe, vial, and rubber band.
"Eh... what's that?"
Pathetic vaccine jab time?
"This? Caffeine. Hehehe... Been awake 480 hours straight, so without it my brain melts... Gotta have it..."
Zombie loser ties off her wrist like a pro, loads the syringe from the vial.
"Wahhh, baby grad student needs caffeine."
Fills it to the brim with clear caffeine, presses the plunger—droplet hits the floor.
-Sizzle...
Meat-searing sound, smoke rises, floor melts. Eek!
"Hey Lion, is caffeine supposed to be that basic? Melting the floor?"
"Uh... dunno... this is... like... what even?"
-Smack smack!
Zombie loser slaps her arm expertly, injects.
"Ngh, ah, haaah, ohohohohohooo♥"
Eek... P-pathetic loser's making weird noises and...
"Ah, ughik, hit, hehit... hngh!"
That ain't caffeine—is it an aphrodisiac? Did she grab Doctor's "magical girl tentacle training potion" by mistake? Now even a sleeve brush sets off her baby factory floodgates?
"Caffeine... alkaloid... C8H10N4O2... adenosine... CNS stimulant racing through my brain... Ngh, hngggg♥"
Glassy eyes muttering code, drool dripping—total zombie. What the hell. Is she nuts too?
"...She's lost it."
Movies say zombies hunt by sound since no sight. I whisper to the pathetic cat so zombie won't hear.
"Hah... hit...! Ov-over there... here this...♥"
Zombie pulls a yellowish envelope from her pocket. Huge red "SECRET" stamp—y'know, that badass movie stamp.
"This isn't... classified docs?"
"Th-thish... internal shpy... docsh...♥"
"Oh... the bait docs Doctor said she'd send to check Hypnosis Aunt..."
Doctor was gonna toss spy bait docs to test if Hypnosis Aunt's a mole. Why send via caffeine-junkie zombie instead of herself?
"Pathetic cat, this is all slobbery..."
"...We got it, so head out. Thanks."
"G-go? Gooo? Can I gooo? G-go hooome?"
"Huh?"
Huhhh?
"Gonna go gonna go gonna go haa, goooiiiing♥"
"This bitch is full-on crazy!"
"Eeee pervert!"
Unlike my fears of her spraying seed-water in the hall, "go" meant crash in her room. Makes sense—480 hours, two days no sleep, tell her to rest and of course she's thrilled.
But five minutes later, Doctor's page blares for the zombie. We spot her shambling off with a "lost my country five times" face.
"Tsk tsk... Doctor works her too hard, huh?"
"Yeah..."
Too pitiful to even call her pathetic. Has Doctor been solo-handling zombie-level workloads? Good at delegating? Dumping on machines? Or piling extra on zombie? Who knows.
-Caffeine... awakening... hiiihnggg♥
Her voice echoes faintly. Poor pathetic thing...