Disciplining the Delinquents
I thought every professor at the academy hated my guts. Some random servant nobody knew suddenly drops in as an honorary punishment instructor? No way I'd accept that—get the hell out! I figured they'd say crap like that. Sure, none treated me outright like that, but plenty shot me similar looks. So yeah, I assumed they all saw me that way. But then I met her, and realized not everyone did.
"Your role... I like it."
Square horn-rimmed glasses—the kind often called hate specs. Intellectual vibe. Black hair swept back into a neat round bun. Porcelain skin, a sexy mole at the corner of her mouth. Piercing eyes, bold red lipstick. Tall for a woman, with that strict, no-nonsense aura. I could already tell what kind of woman she was.
"Getting permission to punish students... I'm a little jealous, actually."
"J-jealous?"
"Oh, don't get the wrong idea. I don't get off on hitting people."
Yeah, right, I thought, smirking inwardly. But I softened my gaze quick—didn't want her catching me and ripping me a new one.
"Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm Viola. I handle first-year combat magic."
"Pleasure. Instructor Lee Hyun."
"I called you here for a favor."
Viola handed me a stack of documents. Student magic scores, laid out in detail.
"Current first-year grades. The principal asked, so I pulled the witches only."
"Whoa, super detailed. Combat strengths here, weaknesses there—even suggestions on what to drill..."
Passion leaped off every line. I skimmed half before closing it—too much for now.
"All your work, Professor Viola?"
Her eyes lit up, face flushing with excitement. She lives for praise, I noted, as she sucked in a big breath.
"Yes! All me."
"Haha... impressive. You really care about your students."
"I handle the whole first-year class. Anyway, the favor: you've got punishment clearance, right?"
"Yep."
"So join my lessons and punish the students."
……
That was the word that flashed through my head. Brain went blank for a sec. This woman was seriously asking me to spank her students?
"Uh... yeah, that's my job. But I participate in class too?"
"Just for punishment. Nothing else."
"You know what kind of punishment?"
"Of course." Viola leaned sideways, miming a smack on her own ass. "Spanking, right?"
"You get it. ...But why? You know it'll piss off the students."
She huffed, crossing her arms with a sharp exhale. Then crossed her legs—her skirt hiking up to reveal thighs way too tempting for a professor. Something about her screamed sadistic queen. Suspicious as hell.
"Lately, their attitudes grind my gears."
Don't say that like you're the prof, I thought.
"A little hard, they bail. Tough, they quit. Annoying, they ignore it. How the hell do they expect to become mages with that mindset?"
"They skipping class?"
"They participate. The problem is, only some do."
Ah, classic problem children.
"So scold the slackers?"
"That's table stakes. The real issue? Kids who can't keep up."
Viola's worry was raw talent gaps—the tragic students who wanted to follow but hit their limits.
"My take: punishment will get even them on track."
"Fine for slackers, but the ones who try but suck? Getting hit anyway—that'll crush 'em."
"I get it. But I won't abandon them."
She cracked her staff against her palm like a whip.
"In my class, every student keeps up—no exceptions. Even the untalented ones. It's my duty to lead them."
"Damn, you're a real teacher. So you want to use punishment to drag them along?"
"Exactly. You get it, Instructor."
From our side, saintly. From the students'? Probably nightmare fuel. Shit, hope no flames come my way.
"Anyway, class time. Follow me."
"Got it."
I trailed Viola to the combat magic classroom.
The combat magic classroom was a wide rectangle. Tiered seats lined the sides, with a stage-like platform smack in the center.
I stood awkwardly by the stage, facing the students, while Viola held court center-stage with fiery passion.
"Use this spell to repel enemies."
First-year basics—simple stuff. Most students focused, but a few stood out for the wrong reasons: half-assing it, chattering away.
"Watch the demo. Instructor?"
"...Huh? Oh! Yeah, me?"
"Sorry, mind helping?"
Isn't my role just punishment? I headed to center-stage, but Viola waved me off, pointing rearward.
"Put that on."
A mannequin sported thick wooden armor. Desk nearby stacked with more. Slipping it on, it was vest-like—leather-stitched wood panels guarding vitals. Decent fit.
"One sec."
"What?"
"We call it 'Foosa'."
Foosa? Pussy? I chuckled to myself. Then—whoosh!—Viola flicked her staff my way.
Thwung!
"Gah—!"
Like getting punched by air. I flew off-stage.
"Pfft—hahaha."
"Puhahaha."
"Didja see him fly?"
"Eek! Lmao."
I ignored the snickers, sprawled on the floor. Endure it. Helping out a bit. Hauled myself up as Viola called out.
"Saw how it flows? Now real practice—but classroom's too cramped. Head outside."
The academy's training grounds: vast blue-grass fields. No outsiders, plenty of space—no collateral from spells.
Students paired up, donned the armor, started casting.
I leaned against the wall, rubbing my chest. Viola approached mid-correction.
"You okay?"
"Chest workouts are out for a bit, but yeah."
"Sorry. Could've used the mannequin."
She reached out, palm on my chest. Stroked a few times—way too sensual.
"...?"
"Must've hurt. My bad."
What signal is this? Genuine apology? Her face seemed sorry. Then she flinched, pulling back.
"A-anyway, remember what I asked?"
"Of course. That's my gig."
"I'll roam and teach. Holler if you need backup."
"Will do."
Time to roll. Circled the casting pairs, eyeing students. Most nailed basics, but I zeroed in on the low scorers.
Found the worst: blonde, petite frame, massive tits. Vacant expression. Awkward grip, sloppy swings—even I could tell it was pitiful.
Fizzzz—just air hissing from her wild swing.
"No, like this."
Bang!—Her partner demoed solid magic.
"Whoa... cool."
"You got it. Again."
"Like so?" Fizzzz—
"Haa..."
Face in hands, defeated. I sidled up.
"Not working?"
"Oh, Instructor."
Her partner griped, "Tell the prof to switch partners. I'm not learning like this."
"Skip the prof. Switch with me. That loner's over there."
She squinted suspiciously. "You can even cast?"
"Just go."
"Fiiiine~."
She bolted—happy for the swap. I grabbed the C-grade training staff. Turned to the dopey witch.
"Name?"
"Clara."
"Show me."
Fizzzz—predictable. Clara deflated further. Wants to do well, poor kid.
"Not like that."
Stepped close, covered her staff hand with mine.
"Swing like this."
Paang!—Magic wave blasted out.
I blinked. It worked? Just mimicked form—no mana from me. And the kickback was fierce.
"L-like that?" Foosh—solo try, still weak.
I'm not the type to smack a trying kid harder, so I backed off: "Focus on casting, not competing."
Then eyed the corner.
"Slackers, as expected."
The chatty crew from class—three of 'em, huddled by the wall out of Viola's sight. One even puffing a cigarette.
What a shitshow. How many brats need fixing here?
Grabbed the rattan bundle from the corner and strode over.