The Foldable Cultivator [High School DxD]

[Boroda Orka]

"Trash! You lucky bastard! You dumb son of a bitch! Spawn of a syphilitic donkey and an opium-addled monkey!" I had the night off, and I was "living it up."

All the girls were out fulfilling contracts, except for the president, who was sorting through paperwork at her desk. Even Genshiro had gone off to see a regular client. As for me… "There's nothing for you today. You can relax," Sitri-sama had told me with that gentle, lovely smile of hers.

And so the ancient cultivator decided to obey his charming Lady. In other words, I thought, Why not take a few hours to relax with some light meditation and a bit of manga?

No sooner said than done. I ran over to the nearest little shop selling all sorts of reading material… and stopped dead in front of a shelf stocked with Chinese xianxia.

My fingers practically itched to grab those books. At the beginning of this life, I'd had absolutely no desire to read xianxia (I'd only just returned from the cultivation worlds, after all), and afterward, I'd been too busy to get around to it. But now a sudden, irresistible wave of nostalgia came crashing over me!

"Good evening, customer-san." A girl about my age appeared out of nowhere.

And may the Nine Heavens come crashing down on my head if I'd seen her coming. One moment, I was standing there alone, looking over the stacks of books, and the next—bam—she was right beside me. I actually jumped and stared at her in surprise.

"Kiryu-san?" I recognized her from the class I shared with Ise. A sharp-tongued girl who took great pleasure in trolling the Perverted Trio.

"Oh!" Her eyes widened in recognition. "Chiba-san! Gloomy Taro! The Brooding Untouchable! The Silent Prince! The Eternal Virgin!"

"Say what?" My voice actually shot up into a falsetto at that last nickname. Kiryu Aika's snark rating instantly went up a few points in my book.

We stood in silence for about five seconds. I was a little… surprised, yes. She broke the awkward silence, adjusting her pink-framed glasses.

"You didn't hear a thing." Her lenses flashed as she put on a deadly serious face. "That's girl talk."

"Hmm… all right," I quickly agreed. I really didn't want to know anything about those nicknames. Better for my peace of mind. "Do you work here part-time?"

"Yep, yep, raking in all the money in the world!" She flashed me a broad grin. "Need any help?"

"I guess." I glanced back at the shelves of Chinese fiction. "Thought I'd give this genre a try. Anything you'd recommend?"

"Of course, of course! It's not every day the quietest guy in school talks to you!" She tossed her head, her chestnut braids swinging and her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've come to the right place, customer-san!"

In the end, I did buy one of the titles Kiryu Aika recommended. And now I was quietly spewing a torrent of bile at it—the book, that is—trying not to disturb my Lady and barely keeping myself from coughing up blood. The protagonist stirred up such a storm of hatred in me that I desperately wanted to dive into that xianxia world and kill him in the cruelest, most twisted way imaginable. Maybe even more than once! And not just him, either!

"Taro-kun."

I met the student council president's eyes as she sorted through papers on one of the shelves in the filing cabinet.

"Sorry, Sona-san. I got carried away…"

"It's all right." Her soft, serene smile once again sent a small wave of affection through me. "What made you so angry?"

My Lady took a folder from the section for academy clubs and walked over to my armchair to peer over my shoulder at the Chinese comic.

"The protagonist." I exhaled slowly to keep myself from launching into another stream of abuse. "A vile creature if ever there was one. He's so revolting that I'm honestly rooting for the local villain. That man is just a powerful cultivator who earned everything through his own hard work. Yes, he's a despotic ruler! Yes, he rules through his own strength and that of his minions! But he's within his rights! Meanwhile, this lucky piece of trash… steals from his own people, strings along the girls who love him, and breaks his word! And he keeps getting lucky, lucky, lucky! Power just falls into his lap! Everywhere he goes, he meets a wise mentor, finds some ancient treasure, or rescues a girl who turns out to be a princess!!! Ugh!!! And that princess is a complete idiot! Her daddy is a bad man, apparently! She's spent her whole life wrapped in silk and velvet! Eats off golden plates! Gets anything she wants without the slightest trouble! But no! 'The people are suffering!' 'She can't bear to witness the plight of the common folk!' Bah!!!"

I flipped back about ten pages and showed her an illustration of the "impoverished village" where the protagonist had rescued that idiot, while Sona-san poured tea into our cups with a thoughtful smile.

"In the end, the very people that stupid hen had decided to help tried to rob, rape, and murder her." Irritated, I jabbed a finger at a little house with a broken window. "'Desperation drove them to a life of crime!' 'They can't even afford to replace the glass!' she cries, lamenting the hardships of that trash! Glass! In a village!!! Not everyone there even has ox bladder to cover their windows!!! The streets are clean, and they have lanterns! In a village!!! This Evil Villain must be a saint if the peasants in his villages live in such luxury! Spoiled scum!!! And what do thieves get—a flogging? Why aren't they sent to the mines? To a logging camp? They flog them in the town square and let them go! They even walk away on their own two feet, merely staggering! They don't even have to be carried off with their backs flayed to bloody ribbons!"

I huffed angrily for a couple of seconds, then let the anger go and calmed down. So much for relaxing. Still, sometimes you had to let your emotions out.

"It's only manga." My Lady chuckled softly and set a cup of freshly brewed tea in front of me. "You shouldn't take these things so seriously. A different world has different customs, after all, and this is a fictional story about people who don't exist. A reader needs to be able to make allowances, if only for the sake of their own nerves. I doubt the author has ever visited another world. Not everyone has the kind of experience you do, Taro-kun."

"Thank you, Sona-san." I bowed my head politely, accepted the cup of fragrant, steaming tea, and smiled as she sat down across from me. The folder lay on the small table, and a matching cup of tea stood before the president. "How long ago did you figure it out?"

"I've been almost certain for some time now. You're far too knowledgeable and accomplished to be an ordinary schoolboy. Even a genius couldn't be so skilled in combat and command so many… techniques. I've never heard of martial artists who use qigong showing such strength and skill, either. There are similar practitioners in China, but even the strongest nonhuman practitioners come nowhere near your level. House Sitri knows how to find information and ask the right questions."

The girl took a sip of tea, watching me through her glasses.

"You're a blacksmith who forged his own bo staff, and you sewed your pao so well that I couldn't even tell at first that it was handmade… You can embroider too, which is truly remarkable." Sona-san's quiet laugh was wonderfully melodic and held no trace of mockery. "Your qi-infused tea, pharmacology and alchemy, how quickly you adapted to your new power, your techniques and mastery in combat… You gave me far too many clues. No one your age could possibly be so accomplished in so many different fields—there simply hasn't been enough time. Then there's your peculiar knowledge of things long forgotten even in China, and some of your turns of phrase are positively archaic. What is your real name?"

"Chiba Taro." I smiled at the clever girl. "I am Chiba Taro, Japanese by birth and a student of this academy. A reincarnator who recovered his former memories at a young age."

"Memories of a life in another world?" Sitri-sama nodded, thoughtfully tapping the tabletop with the pad of her index finger.

"Lives in other worlds," I corrected her, watching her eyebrows rise in charming surprise.

"Oh, really…" She took another sip of tea, her beautiful eyes regarding me with renewed interest. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For trusting me." Her warm smile drew an answering smile from me.

"I wasn't exactly trying very hard to hide it. Questions were bound to arise sooner or later. Still, I'm surprised you waited so long to ask me about my peculiarities. And that you guessed my memories came from other worlds rather than this world's past…"

"I was enjoying the challenge of solving your mystery." The satisfied gleam in her violet eyes made it clear she was enjoying herself. "As I gathered more information about you, I discarded one theory after another until only a few remained… the ones that seemed closest to the truth. And strange as it may sound, another world seemed more plausible to me than this world's past. Demons live for a very long time, yet even my elder relatives had never heard of qigong masters as powerful as you."

"A flexible mind gives even the most fantastical possibilities serious consideration." I inclined my head to her respectfully.

"I was born a demon, after all. By mortal standards, I'm something of a mystical character from an old fairy tale myself. Besides, we know for a fact that other worlds exist, and you do bear a striking resemblance to certain fictional heroes from…" Her gaze dropped pointedly to the volume of xianxia, and I actually bristled.

"Oh, absolutely not!" I snorted, making my opinion of the story's protagonist abundantly clear. "I may not be what anyone would call a good man, but I'm certainly nothing like that lucky son of a—bad person! Even when fighting Evil, one ought to have some moral boundaries."

"What about the Evil Villain?" the girl asked with a gentle smile, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well…" I considered it for a few seconds. "Yes, that's closer. There are certain similarities, but… I was harsher. And to screw up that badly, that often… Still, you're right. This isn't a serious account based on real events; it's entertainment."

"So you've been a ruler as well?"

"I have," I admitted with a slight grimace. "It wasn't the most pleasant experience. There was never enough time for anything; finding competent people was sheer agony; everyone around me was consumed by envy; people tried to poison me with impressive regularity; problems came from every direction; and attention from women was almost always driven by self-interest and a hunger for power. In short, I didn't enjoy being the ruler myself—far too much hassle. Another time, though, my wife ruled, and that wasn't bad at all. At first, I had to go out and beat the conspirators' faces in and tear the heads off anyone trying to worm his way into my wife's bed, but after a decade or so, everything settled down and I hardly ever had to take time away from my cultivation."

"You were married? And you handed control of an entire country… to your wife?" The student council president's surprise was unusually plain on her face.

"Of course I was." I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, sinking into old memories. "I'm human, after all. And she was beautiful, intelligent, superbly educated, and possessed impeccable manners. Her competence in governing a country was beyond question as well. She had a natural gift for ruling and a sincere desire to improve her nation. I must admit, she far surpassed me in that regard. I served her father, who warmly welcomed the region's strongest martial artist to his court. That was where I met his daughter. She was only five at the time—a delightful child, bright, inquisitive, and remarkably sensible, who grew into an admirable woman."

"Five? How old was she when you married?" I thought I detected judgment and mild disapproval in the president's question.

"Seventeen." I snorted, giving Sona-san a mildly reproachful look. "The customs in those worlds were certainly very different from those of this one, but little girls have never held any appeal for me. Though her father started trying to marry us off when she was twelve. He was a very intelligent and cunning man. He saw that ruling the country held no interest for me, and since he had only one child—a daughter…"

"He decided to marry the two of you so she would be the one to rule."

"Exactly. As for everyone who objected to the daughter of the Sun Emperor, Shaker of the Universe, Lord of Heaven and Earth marrying some cultivator born in a little village on the frontier… I persuaded them otherwise."

"Did they survive?" That mischievous glint returned to her eyes, accompanied by a faint smile.

"Not all of them."

"The aristocracy must have been displeased."

"No one cares about the displeasure of worthless trash." I snorted contemptuously, remembering how they had tried to throw obstacles in our path. "A few dozen public duels to the death, a couple of punitive raids, one suppressed uprising by the rabble, one ancestral castle burned to the ground—and the rest shut their mouths. Power lies in Power. Whoever has Power is stronger."

The girl gave an almost inaudible snort, took another sip of tea, and fell silent in thought for a few seconds.

"And you were stronger because you remembered your previous lives." The president nodded, as if confirming her own conclusion.

"You are remarkably perceptive, my Lady. Your intellect is every bit as extraordinary as your beauty." I smiled warmly at her. She blushed rather sweetly and looked away.

"It was obvious, Taro-kun. There's no need to flatter me."

"Forgive me, Sona-san. I couldn't resist. But you truly are very beautiful and possess a formidable intellect."

"If you mention impeccable manners and an excellent education, I'll begin to suspect that your compliments have ulterior motives."

"Everyone has those." I shrugged with a carefree smile. "In every world, people try to get something from one another. You wanted my strength—a Piece for your clan who would be useful to you and your House. I wanted help growing stronger. You gave me endless life, a place to train, the promise of an alchemy laboratory, and permission to hunt in your lands. Not to mention housing, money, food, and tuition. For such magnificent compensation, one must serve conscientiously, lest one incur the wrath of the Universe. You are a generous Lady, an extraordinarily generous one. And I know what I'm talking about: in my previous lives, most cultivators would have gladly sold their souls to a demon for all that."

"Well, technically…" The girl coughed into her fist, giving me an amused look. "Isn't that exactly what happened?"

I stared at her in confusion for a couple of seconds, then couldn't hold it in and… burst out laughing. Sona-san's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The fit didn't last long, and she didn't seem offended, but her expression made it clear that she wanted to know what I found so funny.

"Forgive me, Sona-san." Once I had calmed down, I inclined my head, but the president merely waved away my apology and silently asked for an explanation. "In the cultivation worlds, the word 'demon' carries a very different meaning. To draw an analogy, you… or rather, we are inhabitants of one of the higher worlds. We are stronger than mortals, but not very different from them. The demons of the cultivation worlds, however… are Evil. Pure, concentrated Evil. There is nothing human about them. Nothing inside them but endless, all-consuming hunger and malice."

I swallowed. Memories I always tried to drive away flooded my mind's eye. Clenching my jaw, I sank a little deeper into meditation and calmed my thoughts.

"I know. I was their slave. I was the scourge of mankind. A demonic cultivator possessed by an artifact of the Abyss—the Staff of Four Demons. A calamity, a raging inferno of malice that devoured villages, cities, and entire nations. My hunger became so powerful that nothing else remained within me… And no amount of bloodshed could ever satisfy it."

"But you… broke free?" The girl's gaze was intent. A touch of youthful curiosity, compassion, and a hint of apprehension. Her eyes were so beautiful… as deep as a bottomless violet ocean.

"No." A crooked smile crept across my face of its own accord. "I was killed. Thousands of heroes—the mightiest cultivators—came to slay the Avatar of the Four Demons, knowing that many of them would never return alive… Worse, that they would lose their souls and remain forever in the stomachs of those who owned me at the time. For several reincarnations afterward, I was… not myself. Cruelty, fury, rage, violence—the lives that followed overflowed with them. So as far as I'm concerned, my Lady, your kind aren't demons at all. These contracts, where we grant human wishes in exchange for their life force, are child's play. People readily trade away their lives for alcohol and drugs. What are ten years of life to them in exchange for a dream come true? You don't even buy souls, as described in biblical writings."

"Well…" Sona-san hesitated slightly. The story had clearly left an impression on her.

"And as for selling my soul… becoming a demon…" I smiled. "That doesn't frighten me in any case. You see, when they enslaved me back then, my soul should have been destroyed—devoured. And yet… here I am, sitting before you. Later, demons or demonic cultivators killed me on other occasions, and it made no difference. I was simply born again."

"Taro-kun." My Lady leaned across the table and covered my hand with hers. For a split second, I thought she meant to comfort me, but then I met her intensely serious gaze. "Never tell anyone about this. Ever. I heard nothing. This is True Immortality. Some would take an interest in that, at the very least. To reincarnate, even in another world, with your memories intact, when your soul should have been destroyed…"

"Very well, my Lady." I met her eyes with a warm smile and gently squeezed her slender fingers for a moment. "Thank you. Once again, I'm reminded what a wonderful girl you are."

The heiress of House Sitri, now slightly flustered, sat upright again. A faint blush colored her cheeks, and reproach entered her gaze.

"You're taking this far too lightly for…" The girl faltered.

"For someone as ancient as I am?" I chuckled, noticing her grow even more flustered. Adorable. Truly, she was beautiful. "Don't worry, Sitri-san…"

"Sona," she corrected me, knitting her brows in displeasure.

"Sona-san." I inclined my head in apology. "Don't worry too much. The necessary arrays were built into my body long ago. An old design of mine. I started working on it after I grew tired of all that fun on torture tables. Unfortunately, you are far from the first person to view my reincarnations in that light. One pulse of qi, and this cultivator will pass on to his next life, while my enemies will be left with nothing but a corpse. One in less than ideal condition. But I'm deeply grateful to you—for your concern and your candor."

"So you told me all of that deliberately. Now I feel… rather foolish." All traces of embarrassment had left her face, replaced by her usual composure and a faint, pleasant smile tinged with reproach. She was clearly holding back the question: Why?

"There's… a great deal of warmth and trust in this clan. I like that, and I hope my candor will lay the foundation for mutual understanding between my Lady and me. According to Tsubaki-san, you know all your servants' secrets, and I haven't seen you exploit that knowledge for your own benefit at anyone else's expense."

"Tsubasa-chan is returning." My Lady glanced toward the teleportation circle on the floor as it began to glow. "I hope you won't mind if we talk more about… the cultivation worlds? I would be interested to hear about them."

"Of course, Sona-san. I will gladly assume the role of Scheherazade-kun." I smiled at her, drawing a brief, melodic laugh from the girl. "Besides, I have more tales than a thousand and one nights could ever hold…"

---

Original Russian story

You can find more chapters on my Patreon.

The translation of new chapters will also be published here—but with a bit of a delay.

 

[FTR2017]

Beautiful bonding session between them, it was incredibly humorous how Taro ranted against the 'xianxia protagonist's' incredible luck despite him being peak Evil.

Makes me wonder how he'll take The Old Satan faction's actions against the Sitri ... .

 

[Vanta Mk.XII]

Shame... Oh well.

 

[Boroda Orka]

"Good morning, Master." My "senpai" bowed respectfully, grinning as she passed through the academy gates. I tried to give her a polite smile in return, adjusting my disciplinary committee armband. It was my turn to stand watch at the gates today, checking students' appearance and noting who arrived late.

"Good morning, Tsubasa-san." I thought I'd managed a smile. Inwardly, I reflected with philosophical calm that this would be another log on the bonfire of my troubles.

The little cluster of girls by the academy entrance had already seen and heard everything. Kiryu Aika's thoughtful expression and bright blush were especially troubling. I'd bet anything the gears in her head were spinning like mad.

I never imagined that volume of manhua would become the starting point of our… ahem… friendship. This sweet girl… er… this sweet little menace, that's right! Ahem. Anyway, her friendship—though, honestly, we were really just acquaintances on slightly friendly terms—had brought me a whole pile of troubles. Nothing too serious, but still annoying, at least from my point of view. Though… oh, it's complicated. It'll take a bit more explaining.

---

The chain of events began the day after I bought that belch from the Chinese entertainment industry. I'd filed its author's name under Never read again, even if they threaten to shoot me for five hours straight.

Kiryu pulled the same trick again, appearing beside me without warning in the hallway. It wasn't as if I was obsessively watching everything around me, but I usually noticed people. I sensed when someone was watching me, heard their footsteps, felt their presence. Yet this bespectacled girl had now appeared beside me out of nowhere twice. It might even have been intriguing, if not for where it all led.

"Hi, Chiba-san! So, what did you think of the manhua?" That was the first thing she asked. And it was like pulling the trigger on a gun with the safety already off.

The thing was, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was pleased with my conversation with my Lady. It had once again confirmed that joining her House had been the right decision. Relatively speaking, of course. Life isn't some simple arithmetic problem for first graders with only one correct answer. There are many roads to choose from, or even just directions in which to move. The only real limit is the question: Is this acceptable to me? And personally, I was satisfied with everything—from our friendly group, so easy on the eyes, to Sitri-sama herself, my Lady.

A princess of a powerful House, the younger sister of one of the rulers of the Underworld—generous, intelligent, interesting, and beautiful. Even alluring, yes. For now, I considered her the most attractive girl I knew in every sense of the word, and I took real pleasure in her company and our conversations.

The bitterness came from the volume I'd forced myself to finish. It left a truly vile aftertaste. Especially after the Evil Villain was defeated. His own daughter killed him by driving a poisoned dagger into his back. I read that part with an icy mask on my face, imagining myself warming up beside a bonfire fueled by the protagonists of this epic.

The problem was that the horrific atrocities committed by the antagonist were described and drawn so poorly that he honestly came across as a perfectly decent man. One of those strict but fair types. The well-fed faces of his subjects, stone-paved roads, sewers, the clean streets of bright, beautiful cities where performers put on shows in the public squares about… Pay attention now… Just think about this… HOW TERRIBLE their ruler was!!! And all the guards did was chase them away, without even trying to throw them in jail. If that had been me… Ugh.

He even welcomed his daughter back to the palace, showering her with affection and sympathy, despite the fact that the harpy had carried out a couple of outright acts of sabotage that got people killed! And that had all been part of the protagonist's cunning plan. He had disguised himself and posed as that idiot's rescuer from his own terrible Self.

In short, the Hero valiantly attacked the Villain when the man least expected it and was actually preparing to shower the savior of his precious little girl with rewards… The Hero couldn't handle him, and when Daddy's precious little darling saw that her degenerate-kun was losing… she once again acted most valiantly and stabbed her father in the back. Bellissimo, perfetto, fucktastico!

In my head, I called the story The Treacherous Son of a Bitch and the Degenerate Daughter. I even wondered whether it was secretly a deconstruction of the whole "knight and his princess" trope. But no—the author's online interview informed me that I was an idiot. The Hero was noble, the princess was a mother to her people, and the ruler was a bad man.

And while all those thoughts were still swirling through my head, up popped this braided ninja, whose taste I had already decided was either terrible or downright twisted, and asked a question that hit a particularly sore spot just then.

"Utter shi—" I barely stopped myself, cutting the word short. I was a member of the disciplinary committee and was supposed to set an example. If you take on a job, you do it properly. "Forgive me, Kiryu-san. And good morning. I didn't like the manhua."

Honestly, I had expected surprise, perhaps even mild offense. A question like "Why?" and all the usual things. What I had not expected was the girl's delighted giggle and the joyful sparkle in her eyes.

"You're right, Chiba-san. That stack of wastepaper is exactly what you were about to call it—and a particularly nasty example, too." Aika pushed her glasses up with one finger, sending a positively villainous gleam across the lenses.

"So you deliberately sold me a bad story?" To be honest, I was a little hurt. It wasn't about the money—I had plenty, and buying one shitty Chinese comic wasn't going to make me poor. It was the time I'd wasted… Besides, Aika and I weren't on bad enough terms for her to pull something like that on me.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk!" She waggled a finger right under my nose. "Don't think ill of Kiryu-chan, the Academy's Number One Silent Type. I sold you the absolute worst manhua in the store, but not to hurt your feelings…"

A meaningful pause, another flash of light across her glasses… Who the hell was she? How did she do that? And why was I intrigued? Hypnosis? Magic? Some kind of technique? I couldn't sense a thing from her!!!

"The thing is, I'm convinced the first xianxia story you read should be the worst one you can get your hands on! You're just starting out! You decided to try this wonderful genre for the first time, right?" Nine Heavens, she really knew how to use her voice to make it all sound intriguing. Her eyes blazed with genuine enthusiasm.

"That's right. It was my first time," I said with a nod. Then I shook my head reproachfully. "But that was pretty cruel of you, Kiryu-san. I was hoping for something to cheer me up, and instead…"

"Ho-ho-ho!" My classmate chuckled in triumph, though not very loudly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. I felt an urge to do something nasty to her in return. "Like I said, you have to read a terrible manhua first, and then…"

Aika reached into her schoolbag with her right hand and pulled out a paper-wrapped bundle. The shape of a book was unmistakable. She held it out to me.

"Then you read the best one! Take it, and don't thank me! After the ordeal you've just been through, this one will seem so beautiful, you'd think the kami themselves drew it! It's my gift to a beginner just dipping his toes into this wonderful new world! After this masterpiece, you'll love xianxia as much as Issei-kun loves perverted stuff."

"Uh… Sorry, Kiryu-san, but I can't accept this gift. You paid for it…"

"Come on, Chiba-san. I get an employee discount, so it's fine." Aika lightly tapped the bundle against my chest, urging me to take it. "Besides, you already paid for that one, and I ruined your mood, so this is compensation."

"I can't." I smiled apologetically, inwardly snickering like a bastard. My little revenge was taking shape.

What could be worse than a guilty conscience? The girl had turned out not to be malicious after all, just someone with some pretty strange ideas. If she hadn't gone and ruined those rare free hours, I could've accepted her gift and forgiven her without much effort.

"How about this? I'll borrow it, read it, and return it to you, all right? I don't have much room in my dorm for extra books. I just don't know when I'll be able to bring it back—I have kendo practice, student council work, advanced classes, and electives. Yesterday was the first time I'd had a few free hours in weeks, so I stopped by your shop to find something to read."

Bull's-eye! As I spoke, my classmate's face grew longer, and realization began to dawn in her eyes. That's right, girl. You ruined a rare stretch of free time for me.

"Chiba-san…"

"It's fine, Kiryu-san." I smiled warmly, cackling wickedly to myself. "You said it's best to start with something bad so the good stuff seems even better afterward, so no harm done. Thanks for the manhua."

I carefully took the bundle from her hands as she stood there frozen, then went on my way. She'd feel a little guilty, sure, but maybe she'd think twice next time. Misleading customers was a bad habit. Next time, someone might make a scene. Besides, a stunt like that could do a customer a real disservice—or even put a newcomer off the whole genre.

At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. A small lesson for a young girl, a little revenge for the time she'd wasted… But I should've either just accepted the gift or pretended to be properly offended. I barely spoke to my classmates, after all, and didn't know them well enough to judge their personalities. And this girl turned out to be surprisingly quick to take matters into her own hands!

During lessons, Aika kept fidgeting and occasionally shot me guilty looks. Some people noticed, especially the sharp-eyed girls. It wasn't a big deal, of course, but as soon as classes ended, she took off like a shot in some unknown direction. The next time I saw her was near the student council rooms.

I'd been held up a little. A limping girl from another class had asked me to help her to the infirmary, yet for some reason I couldn't sense even an echo of pain from her. It wasn't exactly suspicious—students faked being ill now and then, and it was perfectly ordinary—but considering I sometimes saw this girl with Kiryu Aika…

"Something's up. I can smell it," I muttered as the pleased girl nodded to me and headed toward the central staircase.

I was partly right. It wasn't exactly a setup, but the quick-witted girl had come up with a clever plan to ease her conscience. I had to admire it: Kiryu Aika had used the same tactics I had. Honesty and an appeal to sympathy.

My fellow student council members told me that my classmate had arrived out of breath, practically barged past Genshiro, and told Sitri-sama the whole story. My Lady had seen me struggling through that pile of wastepaper. She listened to Kiryu, made her decision, and declared that my task for the day was to read the book from "that sweet girl with the big heart." And since all our girls had such huge hearts, they divided up all my work among themselves. Not one of them even flinched.

In the end, I sat there drinking tea and reading a pretty good manhua while everyone else worked. Honestly, I felt like a complete freeloader. And the worst part was that I couldn't get one question out of my head: So who ended up teaching whom a lesson, huh, genius? In short, karma had walloped me. I'd say it hit me with the big guns, but the trouble didn't end there.

The next day brought new reasons to be upset. It all started with Kiryu Aika again. She accepted the volume I'd finished—and my perfectly sincere thanks—with a pleased but guilty expression. I tried to do it without an audience, but unfortunately, a gaggle of girls from our class came down the hallway where I'd caught up with her and gave us a long, pointed stare—right as I handed the book back with a grateful smile and Kiryu, blushing, apologized and explained that she hadn't realized how busy I was.

---

Is it hard to go unnoticed at a school full of girls? Not really, I'd say—under the right circumstances. I'd kept a low profile from the start. I was quiet and unsociable. A top student, not bad-looking, in good shape, but that was about it. Sure, some people liked that, but hardly anyone knew much of anything about me. I didn't advertise my personal life, my training, or anything like that. My homeroom teacher knew, of course, but she didn't go around telling the other students what a great guy I was. In short, I was more forgettable than interesting. And even more so after I turned down two girls who liked quiet guys…

But now several factors had come into play. First, I was still a top student and in good shape. Second, I'd been invited to join the student council, which was a real honor at the academy. Third, there were witnesses who'd seen me being friendly—even smiling warmly at a classmate—as we talked somewhere relatively secluded.

All those wonderful ingredients fell into a cauldron bubbling with girlish curiosity. The mixture simmered all day as the girls whispered among themselves. Then, after classes, a whole herd of goosebumps ran down my back when I saw most of the girls in my class gathering around Kiryu Aika's desk. As I headed toward the student council rooms, my gut told me something was about to happen.

Was I glad things had turned out that way and my intuition hadn't failed me? Not really. Or, as a certain mustachioed man who most definitely wasn't Kazakh might put it: NOT! My intuition should've kicked in sooner!!! Back when I went to the bookstore!!!

In the end, I gained my share of popularity. Kiryu had undoubtedly caved under pressure from our classmates and told them the story about the manhua, mentioned how busy I was, and probably brought up my kendo practice too… After that, everyone drew their own conclusions.

Before long, they'd come up with a neat little theory to explain my gloomy demeanor. It wasn't gloominess anymore, but "the focus of a serious man pursuing his goals." (Yes, yes—I heard two girls whispering it with my own ears.) They explained away my reserved nature, too: "He just doesn't have time for silly stuff." And as for clubs: "He joined the student council, didn't he? That's where you get real experience of adult life!"

Ironically, almost all of it was true—the reasons behind it just weren't quite what people thought. And now the girls trying to get my attention were chatting near my desk about anime and manga. Or which university to choose. Or what relationships in an ideal family ought to look like.

I was certain there were no crushes or anything like that. They were just curious, trying to "poke me with a stick" and see what I'd do. But their curiosity was gathering momentum!

Kiryu would sometimes come over for a quick chat, too. Then my buddy Ise made things awkward by deciding to keep her company for some reason. Gremory Rias-san was my Lady's childhood friend and ally, so I didn't think it wise to give her servant the usual Chiba Taro treatment. I showed Ise a little warmth, which encouraged Aika to talk to me now and then.

My classmate even gave me a list she'd put together herself of "great works," both domestic and foreign, sorted by genre and subgenre, "so you won't waste your time on bad ones, Chiba-san." It touched me a little, and I no longer felt like talking to her as though I couldn't be bothered. Kiryu definitely wasn't a bad person. She had a peculiar sense of humor and some amusing little quirks, but despite everything, I didn't feel any animosity toward her.

There was still a chance things would die down. I did my best to be as uninteresting as possible. But then our homeroom teacher fired the final shot. A ridiculous coincidence.

The entire kendo club was once again chasing Matsuda and Motohama out with piss-soaked rags—er, shinai. I happened to be on duty, and they came running straight into me. Well, I "apprehended" them and asked the indignant girls what the problem was. (Though it was obvious those two idiots had been drooling over the kendo girls as they changed.) I gave the pair a dressing-down and ordered them to show up the next day for disciplinary action, leaving the severity of the punishment for Shitori-sama to decide.

I thought that was that, but the girls decided to show me the now-legendary hole in the wall the Perverted Trio used for their grand, if horrifying, exploits. They weren't showing me where to peek. They were asking, "Chiba-san, please, can the student council finally do something about this?"

I didn't know why they kept mindlessly plastering over the hole, only for the perverts to just as mindlessly bore it open again, but I fixed the problem. I grabbed a big, long bolt from the storeroom, pushed it through the wall, tightened a nut on the other side, and bent the end of the bolt all to hell.

"If you see those two sneaking up to the wall with a pair of giant bolt cutters, then… beat the hell out of them. I'll pretend I didn't see a thing." With that parting advice, I turned to leave amid the girls' giggles—only to come face-to-face with my homeroom teacher.

"Chiba-kun, hello again! So you did decide to join the kendo club after all?"

"Shijimu-san." I gave the woman a slight bow, praying she wouldn't say anything she shouldn't. Behind me, the girls bowed to her too. I sensed a hint of confusion from them at Shijimu-san's question. "I was just helping them patch up a hole in the wall."

"That one?" The teacher pursed her lips disapprovingly, though her displeasure wasn't directed at me. "Good work."

I'd already sighed with relief and thanked the Nine Heavens for their mercy… but apparently prayers like that don't work for demons. Or rather, they do—but the results aren't quite what you'd hoped for.

"Still, it's a shame. Goro-san is a master renowned throughout Japan, and his senior student could really help our girls," the… kind woman sighed sadly, blissfully unaware of what she was doing. Everyone at school knew how hard the captain of the academy's kendo team pushed for us to win competitions. Hmm… Could this be our homeroom teacher's cunning plan?

"Unfortunately, Sensei, I really don't have any time," I said, putting as much regret into my voice as I could. Now to make a quick getaway. I could feel the kendo girls' bewilderment mounting behind me, especially that of their club president, who was also the team captain. Who knew how long before she got "fired up"?

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. Student council paperwork, dojo practice, classes…"

I headed briskly toward the classroom building, careful not to make it look like I was running away. That was it. Now I was truly finished. Was I ever going to try acting like some kind of mentor to the younger generation again? Never!!!

---

To the kendo club's credit—and to my relief—they didn't come chasing after me. They didn't pressure me, lure me in, or try to seduce me. At least, not yet. But more girls had joined the ranks of those taking an interest in me, and the rumors had spread beyond our class, gaining momentum and a curious audience.

There was still a slim chance the whole thing would fizzle out and I wouldn't become another poor Kiba Yuuto, but… My senpai seemed to have dealt me the finishing blow.

The thing was, ever since that training match, Tsubasa had sometimes called me "Master"—half joking, half serious. Sona-san had given me permission to use her family's training grounds, and Tsubasa had politely asked if she could watch me train and whether I'd "teach her a couple of cool techniques." Of course, she hadn't put it quite like that, but she'd hinted that she was interested in improving herself.

And Aika—the "Girl Who Brings Misfortune"—had heard Tsubasa call me "Master" and seen her cheerful smile and serious eyes. Once this whole saga of fascinating, exciting theories about me began, Aika had thrown herself into it with enthusiasm and delight. What would happen now? What would spring from the mind of someone who thought the best way to get into a new genre was to start with the worst?

Nine Heav—No, screw the heavens! Leviathan-sama, help your little sister's servant!!! I want absolutely nothing to do with this particular kind of popularity!

---

Original Russian story

You can find more chapters on my Patreon.

The translation of new chapters will also be published here—but with a bit of a delay.

 

[FTR2017]

Roflmao, Kiryu got a crush on Moody-san, peak comedy here!