The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master — Chapter 370: Slave (1)

Chapter 370: Slave (1)

The‌ academic program at‍ Joaquin Academy lasts⁠⁠ three years. Three⁠ years. And for⁠ quite some time,‍ there have been⁠⁠ voices expressing doubt⁠ about that.

“Did⁠‍ you know some⁠‍‌ people have been⁠⁠ saying that ‘just’‌ three years isn’t enough?”

“Yes.”⁠⁠⁠

However, the world of‌⁠ heroes has always‍ suffered from a chronic shortage of personnel.

It⁠ was common for‍⁠ them to die⁠ in combat against‌⁠ demons, and there‍ were also plenty⁠ of heroes who,‌ drunk on the⁠‌‌ taste of power,‌⁠⁠ forgot their true‍ essence.

That’s⁠ how dire the‍‍ situation was. And‍‍ was there any definitive solution? None.⁠

That’s‌‍ why Joaquin Academy‌⁠ had to send⁠ out young heroes⁠‌ barely of age‌‍ into the world.‍‍

And⁠⁠ the consequences of‍ that, unfortunately, fell‍‌ on the academy,⁠‌ which was forced‌⁠‍ to release mediocre rookies into society.‍‌

Although‌⁠ the situation has⁠‌‍ improved considerably, Joaquin graduates who cause‌‍ trouble wherever they‌⁠‍ go are still‍ abundant.

“That’s⁠⁠ exactly why!”

Choi⁠ Seol-Ah stood up,⁠⁠ agitated.

“How‌⁠ can anyone think‌ of something so⁠ cruel?!”

To‌ everyone’s surprise, Choi‌ Seol-Ah had attended‍ graduate school.

It⁠‌ turned out that⁠⁠⁠ in order to‍ apply for an‍ instructor position at⁠‍‌ the academy, one⁠‌‌ was required to‌‌ submit a pedagogical‍ thesis. And now,‌ raising her voice,‌⁠ she was proclaiming⁠‍ with conviction—

That‍ graduate school was‍ a true nest‍ of corruption, far‌ worse than any‍ demon dungeon.

And‌ although Choi Seol-Ah⁠ often exaggerated, this⁠ time she was‍ serious.

“Graduate⁠ school is an‍ institution of modern-day slavery!”

That’s‌ when Ryozo, who‌‌ had made her‍‌ do squats as punishment, spoke up.⁠

“At⁠⁠ Joaquin, grades are‍ strictly based on‌ practical performance. Maybe‌ that’s why so‌⁠ many feel hollow inside.”

To⁠ clarify any possible‍ controversy with Ryozo’s‌ “controversial” statement.

When‍ she says “hollow-headed,”‌ she’s referring to‌ those who still‌ haven’t managed to‌ let go of‍ that elitist noble‌ mindset.

When⁠⁠ it comes to‍ practical skills, genetics‍‍‍ have an overwhelming‌ influence.

And‌ unless that structure‍ changes, the deep-rooted‍ elitism of this‍ world will remain⁠‍ intact.

“So,‍ Geom-Ma, while you⁠ were away, I talked with Vixbig⁠ and Abel, you‍ know?”

Vixbig,⁠‍⁠ that bastard. The‍ artificial intelligence poisoned‌‍‌ the well.

“And⁠ well, we thought‌‍ it would be⁠ a good idea‍ to have a higher education institution⁠⁠⁠ above the academy. The first thing⁠ that came to‌‍ mind was a graduate school. And‌ since it’s graduate-level,‌ written exams would‍ logically carry more weight too.”

At‍ Joaquin Academy, the director holds enormous⁠‍ influence. Even more‌ now that the⁠⁠ Council of Elders‌ serves no real‌ purpose.

That’s⁠ why there was‌ no organization or‍‍ institution that could oppose the director’s⁠ decisions when they fully reflected his⁠‍ personality.

It’s‌ worth mentioning that‍ during his student⁠ days, Ryozo never‍‌‍ lost first place‍ in written exams‍‌ throughout the three‌ years. He was‍ an Armageddon-level genius.‌ That inclination of hers was quite‌‍‌ evident with this⁠‌‍ proposal.

“Nowadays,⁠ even after graduating,‌‍‌ it’s hard to⁠⁠ find a job.”‍

Ryozo‌⁠⁠ spoke while gazing⁠ through the double windows. She slipped‌⁠ a finger between the blinds and‍ lifted one. The⁠ sunlight, measured like⁠‍ by a ruler, cast across her⁠ face.

“Joaquin must change too.”⁠

I don’t know how‍ to explain it…⁠ he had the⁠ aura of a shady character.

“We‌‌‌ can’t just be⁠⁠ an institution that⁠ produces heroes. We‍ need to train‌‌‍ real educators.”

A satisfied smile appeared⁠ on Ryozo’s lips.‍ Then Choi Seol-Ah‌‌‌ suddenly chimed in.‌⁠⁠ Her arms were‌ pinned to her‌⁠ ears like she‌⁠ was ready to‌ march.

“There’s‌ going to be⁠‍ a lot of‌ internal complaints!”

“Doesn’t⁠⁠ seem like it.”‌

Clack.⁠⁠ Ryozo let go‌ of the blind.⁠

“I‍ asked the teachers,‍ and they welcomed‌ it with open⁠⁠ arms.”

“That’s‌‌ because they’re the‍⁠ ones in charge!‌‌‍ You should’ve asked‍ the officers! That‍ survey is totally⁠⁠ biased!”

“The officers were all‍⁠ busy, can’t be⁠ helped.”

“Wow…⁠ seriously, director.”

“Anyway,‍ it’s already pretty‍ much decided internally.”‌⁠

“No way! Nothing is‌ decided!”

Choi Seol-Ah raised her‌ voice on behalf⁠‍⁠ of a certain‍‌ organization.

“You’re‍‍‌ going to keep interrupting? Want to‌ go back to⁠ grad school?”

Ryozo‍‌‍ wasn’t affected in‍‍‍ the slightest.

“What‌ a cruel person…”‍‍‌

Choi Seol-Ah cried while‌ serving her punishment.‍⁠ It was clear‍‌‍ that graduate school‌ was her weakness⁠⁠ and trigger for‌⁠‌ emotional crisis.

“It’s‍ almost entirely decided‌ internally.”

Ryozo⁠ sat at his‍‍ desk and rested‌‌ his chin on⁠‌ his hand, spinning‌ a pen between⁠‌ his fingers.

I,‌⁠ who had been‌ listening quietly, asked.⁠⁠

“So,‍⁠ we just go‍‍ forward with it?”⁠⁠⁠

“Creating a new educational institution isn’t that‌‍ simple. Realistically, there are two urgent problems to solve.‍ At least two.”‌

First,‌‍ the opinion of‍ current students.

You‍ couldn’t rule out⁠‌ the possibility that,⁠ once founded, the‌‌⁠ graduate school would‌ end up completely‍‌ empty. Since it⁠⁠ would be a direct extension of⁠ academy education, the⁠ opinion of cadets‌‌ was essential. After‍‍ all, they were‌‌⁠ the target audience.‍⁠

Second,‍‍ money.

Joaquin‍ Academy, as a top-tier educational institution,‌⁠ was already using‌⁠ its land to‌ the fullest. Securing‌ new space would‌‍⁠ cost a fortune,⁠ and current student‌ fees barely covered‍ the essentials.

“Don’t⁠‌ get me wrong,‍ Geom-Ma.”

Ryozo⁠ looked down.

“The‌‍ truth is, when⁠⁠ it comes to‍ money, special students‍ are the biggest⁠‌ problem.”

“Ah.”‌⁠

“They’re⁠ charged much less⁠⁠‍ than the children‌ of nobles, right?‌‌⁠ When I took‌‌ over and reviewed‌⁠ the financial records,‌‌ I saw that‌‍ even under the‍ previous director the‍‌ budget was already‍‍ tight.”

“And‍ the number of special students has⁠ increased over the⁠ past ten years.”‍‍

“Yes.”‌‍‍

Ryozo sighed.

“I‍‌ can’t increase the‍‍⁠ budget with my‌ own money because‌ it’s illegal… unless‌‌‍ we found a sponsor. But lately,‍ nobles’ opinion of‌‌ Joaquin isn’t great,‍‍ and there aren’t‌‌‍ many entities willing‍ to fund something this big.”

“What‍‍‍ about the G.M.‍ Foundation?”

“Also‌‌ a no. It‌‌ was recently revealed‌‍‍ to be your‌ private foundation, Geom-Ma.⁠‌ If I, as⁠⁠ the director, can’t‌ use my own‌ money, even less could I pull‍⁠ funds from my‌‍‍ partner’s foundation.”

I scratched my head.⁠ Nothing is easy in the adult⁠⁠ world. Ryozo smiled‍⁠ tenderly and approached me. He rested‌ his head on‍ my shoulder.

“Even‍⁠ so, thanks for‍⁠⁠ listening. It gives⁠‌ me strength.”

“Excuse‍ me, but… there’s another person here!”‌‍⁠

Choi‍ Seol-Ah stuck out‌ her tongue. Ryozo⁠ gave her a cold, sharp look.‍⁠

“Instructor⁠‍ Kim, out.”

“…I‍ didn’t do anything‌‍⁠ wrong.”

I added,

“Graduate‍‌ school?”

“Have‌⁠ mercy, please!”

“Effective‌ immediately.”

Just‌ before crawling out of the director’s‍ office, Choi Seol-Ah‌‌ launched one last‍⁠‌ protest.

“You‍⁠‍ two!”

As if she wouldn’t‌‍ leave without a final jab, she⁠ raised her index⁠‌ finger sternly.

“Don’t‌⁠‌ do anything weird‌ in the director’s‌⁠ office!”

“…”‍‌‌

“…”‍

Ryozo‍ broke the silence.‍‍

“Should⁠⁠ a secretary’s salary be 500? Sounds⁠ excessive, doesn’t it?”‌

“It‍‌ really does.”

“Let’s‍ make it 200.”⁠‍‍

“Yes.”‌

A small smile blossomed.‍

For⁠ once, there was⁠ warmth in the⁠ air.

‘At‍⁠‍ this point I’m‍ just curious. What‌ the hell is‌‌ it about graduate⁠⁠‌ school that makes‍ Choi Seol-Ah, who’s‌ usually the epitome‌‌ of shamelessness, react⁠⁠⁠ with such rejection‌⁠ and horror? I’ll‍‌‌ have to ask Yu Sein.’

The‌⁠ role of a graduate university in⁠ this world must‌ be different from‌‌ that on Earth.‌ That’s why Yu⁠ Sein, who had‌‌ the point of⁠ comparison, was the‌⁠‌ right person to‍ ask.

Perfect.⁠⁠ I already had⁠⁠ my afternoon itinerary‌‍‌ planned.

Now‌ it was time‍ to ease Ryozo’s‍⁠ worries a bit.‍ Since I’m a terrible husband who’s⁠‍ always away, I should at least‌‌‌ earn some points‍‍ in moments like⁠‌⁠ this.

“This‍ time I came‍‍ back from the‍‍ mission, didn’t I?”‍

I pulled out my‌ trump card.

“I⁠‌ think that could‌ solve the money‍ problem.”

It⁠‌ was time to‍ empty the emperor’s‌‍ wallet.

With⁠‌ a market capitalization‌‌ in the trillions,‍‍‌ the East India‌ Company wouldn’t notice‌ a few hundred‌‌ billion disappearing.

…Or⁠ would they? Well,‌ who cares. If he messed with me, he pays‍ the price.

Once‍‍ I finished the‌ meeting with Ryozo,‌ I went to⁠‍ see Yu Sein.⁠⁠⁠

A luxurious apartment near‍⁠‌ the academy.

I passed by Welter,⁠⁠ the priest who‍‍ now was nothing‌‍‌ more than Yu‍⁠ Sein’s slave, as‍‌‍ he did recycling‌‌ in a corner of the building.‌⁠

‘How⁠‍ can a person’s‌‌ eyes look that⁠ sad?’

I had déjà vu.‌‌‌ Choi Seol-Ah’s eyes,‍ when she spiraled‌‌ into a crisis‌⁠‌ just hearing the⁠‍ word “graduate school,”⁠ sometimes showed a similar emotion.

There‌‍ was an unexpected‌ guest in Yu‍‍ Sein’s house.

A PlayS****on 5 Pro‍‌ sat elegantly beneath‍ a massive TV.‌‌

It‌ was a luxury⁠ item that cost‍ over ten million‌‍‍ won because the‌ manufacturer had gone‌‍ insane.

Yu‍‍‍ Sein was sitting⁠ on the couch,‍‌ completely absorbed in‌‍ the game.

She usually ignored me‍ when I visited,⁠‍‍ but today she‌ was particularly zoned⁠ out.

She‍ looked like she‌ might dive right‌ into the screen.‌⁠ As someone who’s⁠ possessed bodies before,⁠‍‍ I totally understood⁠⁠ that feeling.

Click.‍

So I unplugged the‍⁠‌ cable.

“Aaah—!”⁠‌

Yu‌⁠ Sein reacted immediately.‌‍⁠

“Hey, Heavenly Sword. Can I curse you‌‌ out with two⁠ voices right now?”‍‍

“Gladly.‍‍ But in exchange,‌ I’ll have that console date my sashimi.”

“Did‍ you go insane after seeing the⁠⁠ emperor?”

“I’ve‌‌ always been insane.‌ And anyway, Abel⁠‌ and Ryozo bought⁠⁠ that for you, right? With the‌‌ academy’s budget issues,‍ we can’t afford‌‍ luxuries.”

“Tch.”‌‌

Even‌⁠ with that sound,‌‌ Yu Sein turned to pay attention. Everyone has their‍‍⁠ weakness.

Choi‍‌‍ Seol-Ah’s is grad‍ school. Yu Sein’s is video games.‌

For⁠ someone with a conscience, ten million‍‌‍ isn’t nothing.

Besides,‌ despite the terrible‍ reviews, that console⁠ was selling like‌‍‍ crazy.

It⁠ was such a rare item that‍ if I broke‌‍‌ it in two, they wouldn’t get‍ a replacement for⁠ months.

“I’m‌ ready.”

Once‌‌ Yu Sein set‌⁠ the controller down⁠ like it was⁠‌ a sacred relic,‍ I explained the‌ situation.

Patiently, she listened in⁠ silence. Her expression‍ was so serious‍‌ that it made‌‍ me nervous to‌‌ speak.

A while later, she⁠⁠ gave her opinion.‍⁠

“You’re‍ insane.”

Bluntly.⁠‌‍

“You’re‌⁠ going to start‌‌‍ a graduate program?”‌⁠

“Yes.”‍‌‌

“You really are nuts, huh?”

Was‍‌‌ that reaction really⁠ necessary?

“What’s‌‌ so bad about‌ it that everyone reacts like this?”⁠

“What‍‍ do you mean?‌ Don’t you know‌‌ what grad school⁠ is?”

“In‌ my past life,‌ I only finished‍‌ elementary school.”

I had a complicated academic background. Dropped‍ out of high school.

“Ah…‌ right.”

“Don’t‌‌ pity me. And you, Yu Sein,‍‌ did you even⁠‍ set foot in‌ a grad school?”‍‌

“What‌ are you saying?‍ I finished my‌ doctorate.”

I blinked. What kind‌‌ of betrayal was‌ this?

“You’re‌ not lying about⁠‌ that past life‌‌ stuff, right?”

“If⁠‍ you want, I can print my⁠⁠‌ thesis again. I have it memorized.”‌

“What was your field?”⁠⁠‌

“Mechanical⁠ engineering. I was‍ the goddess of‌‌ the department.”

I wanted to tell‌ her that I was a literal⁠⁠ god, but… Even‌ I felt that‍⁠ was pathetic, so‍ I held back.⁠‍⁠

“…”⁠⁠

“Anyway.⁠‍‍ I get the‌⁠ idea. It’s not‌‍‌ a bad one. If Ryozo’s behind‍‍‌ it, he must‌ have his reasons.”⁠⁠

Even⁠‌ though it was‌‌ a positive take,⁠ Yu Sein emphasized⁠‍ once again:

“Still, it doesn’t change the fact that‍‌⁠ graduate school is‌ a den of⁠ evil.”

“Drop‌⁠‌ it already.”

“Anyway,⁠‌ to start a graduate school, there’s‍ something more important‌⁠ than money.”

“Knowledge.”⁠

Yu‍⁠ Sein tapped my‍‍ forehead.

“Even‍⁠⁠ if you have‌ enough professors, graduate-level‍‌‌ content needs to‍‍ be on another⁠ level. You need‌ knowledge. And that’s‍ not something you‍ can buy with‍‍ money. It’s not‍⁠ easy to come by. If the quality or level⁠ of the knowledge‍‍ is low, you’ll⁠⁠ crash from the⁠‌ first step trying⁠⁠ to convince students.”⁠

“Knowledge…”‌‍

I felt the weight of that word.‍‍ I lifted my‌‍‌ gaze. I met‌⁠‍ Yu Sein’s languid‍‍⁠ eyes.

“I‍‌ think it’s possible.”

When I spoke confidently, Yu Sein looked⁠‌‌ at me like‌‌ I was crazy.‌ I was used⁠ to being treated⁠‍ that way. Sad,⁠⁠‌ but true.

Anyway,‍ I ignored it⁠ all and took out my phone.‍‌‍

— Imperial Palace, good⁠‍ afternoon.

“Tell‌‍‍ the emperor…”

I didn’t think I’d‍ be contacting this‌‌ guy again so‌‍ soon.

“I‍‌‌ want my payment⁠ from the deal⁠ we made. Right‍⁠ now.”

— …Excuse me?

From⁠ the other end‍⁠ of the line,‍ Garyeon’s discomfort was⁠ palpable.