Chapter 1 - 1. It's Not Racism… (1)
Anyone who's ever worked a job has probably imagined it at least once.
A perfect company that pays millions, provides the best benefits and treatment, and doesn't force you to join hiking groups on the weekends with insufferable colleagues.
Of course, a dream job is as rare as a unicorn.
Realistically, the odds of encountering such a place are close to zero. Unless a miracle happened, there would be no chance of ever working in such a place.
…But then, a miracle happened.
An elderly man I helped without a second thought turned out to be someone incredibly powerful, or he took a liking to me and offered me an invaluable opportunity.
I was lucky enough to seize that chance. One coincidence after another, and I'd finally landed it:
A dream job, a place that seemed like it only existed in fantasies.
Now I didn't have to worry about making ends meet. My annual salary had skyrocketed to thirty times what it was, and my social status had soared.
Maybe it was the relief of not having any worries that made my steps feel light, even on what should have been a dreaded commute.
And so, on my first day at my dream job, I was…
"I'm not fit to be a professor! You should cancel my appointment immediately!"
…handing in my resignation to HR.
And it hadn't even been 30 minutes since I arrived.
"…What are you talking about? You want to quit? The Academy professor position? On your first day?"
The person looked at me, bewildered.
Even after confirming that I wasn't under a curse or mind-control spell, they still seemed to doubt my sanity.
And honestly, I couldn't blame them.
Resigning from a dream job that would earn respect and provide the highest perks after just one day? No one in their right mind would do that.
But my mind was made up.
Because I had just remembered.
Memories of my past life. Of my days as a corporate worker in South Korea, who occasionally found solace in reading web novels.
And my instincts, honed as a reader, were warning me.
'No way—this is an academy genre setting.'
This wasn't just a typical fantasy world I'd reincarnated into. It was the world of an academy web novel.
The school had a suspicious amount of power and influence, more like a high-security institution than a place for children. The headmaster might even be a young dragon in disguise.
With all this evidence, there was no denying it.
I'd read enough novels to not know exactly which one this was, but I was certain it was an academy genre.
Which brought a major problem.
One I couldn't afford to ignore.
'I'm going to get caught up in something. No doubt about it, and I'll probably end up dead.'
Terrorist attacks?
If an academy story doesn't have those, it's disappointing.
An infiltrated demon?
That's pretty much a required element now.
And, of course, a final boss with an inexplicable obsession with the academy?
It's practically a tradition since Voldemort.
'This isn't a school; it's a death trap.'
What's the point of good perks if I'll end up dead? In that sense, this was the worst possible job.
Therefore—
"I absolutely cannot take the position of professor."
I declared firmly, expressing my refusal to stand at the heart of events without insider knowledge.
The HR manager responded,
"All right. Please wait a moment."
And without a word of protest, she accepted my resignation.
My face showed surprise.
No complaints about the academic schedule being thrown off because of my sudden decision, or about inconveniencing the Saintess and Second Princess, who were enrolling this year?
I might have just chalked it up to luck…
'But this is just too strange.'
As I looked more closely, I could see a clear suspicion in her eyes. She was manipulating something under the desk, as if sending a silent alarm.
My brain quickly started analyzing the situation.
'…Now that I think about it.'
I was wearing a custom suit provided by the Empire, practically an artifact with their special engraving techniques.
On my left hand, I had a spatial storage seal engraved by the Empire—a priceless item.
And just two months ago, I'd completed training under the Empire's court mages, learning numerous spells.
Spells exclusive to the Imperial family, specially granted to Academy professors.
Yet here I was, quitting on the first day, after reaping all those benefits and receiving classified information in advance.
…A spy. There was no doubt about it. I was practically a spy sent to steal the Empire's secrets.
They'd probably have my head before I could say a word in my defense.
Having understood the situation, I acted quickly.
I immediately cast a spell, placing my hand on the HR manager's shoulder and implanting a suggestion.
[I didn't barge in here with strange requests. I only asked where the entrance exam would be held.]
Instead of a professor, I was now just a regular staff member, weary from my heavy workload. Her already fatigued mind succumbed easily to my half-baked spell.
She recited the location of the exam hall, even adding a friendly reminder that I'd be late if I didn't hurry.
'This is ridiculous.'
I didn't want to go. I wanted to quit both the exam and my role as examiner.
That was my honest feeling, but if I actually ran away now, it would only make me look more suspicious.
So I had only one choice left.
…With a sigh, I dragged my feet toward the exam hall.
The Imperial Academy's final entrance exam.
As I sat as an examiner, a thought came to me after much deliberation.
Getting fired.
Perhaps that was the best solution.
Resigning from such a prestigious job would look suspicious, but if the Academy dismissed me for some flaw they discovered?
They might take measures to protect their secrets, but they wouldn't kill me.
Then I could live out the rest of my life in peace.
But the problem was…
'I have no idea what I could do to naturally get fired.'
If I created some major scene, like pulling a knife, I'd certainly be fired immediately, but that was out of the question.
Such a blatant approach would only arouse suspicion. Obviously, it would look too deliberate.
To get fired for a serious enough reason without arousing suspicion.
That was the goal, but finding a natural way to mess up this badly wasn't easy. Getting fired was more complicated than I thought.
'…Maybe I should consider other methods.'
As my mind started spinning with ideas, I sensed a sharp gaze on me.
"Ahem."
An elderly professor gave me a disapproving look.
His eyes scolded me for daydreaming in the middle of the final exam interview.
I wanted to say, "I just remembered my past life 30 minutes ago—how could I be calm?" but I swallowed the words.
No point in saying it; they'd think I was insane.
So, I took a deep breath and played along.
"Candidate number 12, please enter."
I wasn't exactly focused, but I could manage to ask a few decent questions.
Thinking that, I looked at the student who entered…
And I fell silent.
I could feel my pupils dilate.
It wasn't because the student was someone important, like a princess or saintess, or because they were a character I recognized.
No, I'd simply realized something.
The perfect plan to achieve my goal.
There was no room for hesitation. My life was at stake, and I wasn't foolish enough to worry about ethics now.
I stood up immediately, drawing everyone's attention.
Ignoring their stares, I furrowed my brows in disgust, as if I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and said,
"A filthy cotton-picking black brat dared to apply to our Academy?"
(Note: I do not condemn racism.)
An outrageously offensive remark.
Everyone's face instantly twisted in horror.
At the prestigious Imperial Academy, which prided itself on equality, no other professor in history had ever uttered such words, so of course, everyone was appalled.
"Have you lost your mind? What nonsense are you spouting…?"
The old professor tried to scold me, but I brazenly scolded him back.
"If you ask me, you're the ones who've lost your minds. Would you really let something that hideous into the Academy?"
An elven professor glared at me with a murderous look.
But I didn't stop.
A newly hired professor turned out to be an extreme racist and was subsequently fired.
What could be a more flawless plan?
This way, I could leave without raising any suspicions.
"I'm disappointed. I thought professors at the renowned Imperial Academy would be of higher caliber, but you're all just as low as they come."
I spewed another elitist comment, stacking as much hostility as possible against myself.
Now it was time for the final act. I pointed at the black boy and shouted.
"Get out of here, you hideous creature! Did you think you could hide that filthy nature from me?"
My voice was loud enough to echo outside the interview room. At this point, my dismissal was practically guaranteed.
The sound of droplets hitting the floor made me wonder if I'd gone too far, guilt pricking my conscience for pushing a child this hard.
But I had to survive.
I could earn plenty of gold with my modern knowledge cheat and share some with him later.
As I thought this, I looked back at the boy.
But something was wrong.
The boy wasn't crying. The drops on the floor were his cold sweat.
The black boy, clearly shaken, suddenly sprouted a pair of horns.
With unmistakable slit-pupil eyes, dark wings tore through his back, radiating a sinister glow.
The boy—or rather, the demon—cried out in shock