Borrowing a descriptive style from elentary school essays, this day was bright and sunny.
Inside Hachiman Hikigaya's heart, excitent surged as he stood at the entrance of the Cherry Academy High School building, his passion ready to burst forth.
From today onward, he—Hachiman Hikigaya—was done with all those boring titles like God-slayer, Demon King, Dark Warrior, and the like.
From now on, just call him Hikigaya-sensei, the planter and nurturer of trees.
The future of this country would be cultivated by his own hands.
Let tell you, the achievent of creating the strongest bonsai community of the strongest generation in history—he was determined to get it!
With this noble spirit, Hachiman took a significant step in his life.
From now on, he was a god-slayer who had left behind low-level interests, even though a shaless little fox-dog clung stubbornly to his shoulder, claiming to boost his "cool factor."
But that didn't matter.
Hachiman was confident—definitely not a hallucination—that he slled the fragrance of beautiful girls wafting down the hallway.
Though mixed with so strange odors, for the sake of the fragrance, he magnanimously ignored those.
Following the usual routine, new teachers were supposed to report to the discipline director, who was always bald.
This was generally how the protagonist got humiliated at the start, so Hachiman felt a bit eager.
But when he pushed open the office door and saw the discipline director inside, his dreams were shattered.
She looked like she was completely expecting him; besides the two of them, no one else was in the empty office.
That egg-shaped delicate face was still so stunningly beautiful, her originally long black hair pinned up, a scarf tied around her graceful neck.
The black, slightly open female blazer revealed a dark shirt underneath, buttons done only to the heart area, showing a patch of white, tender skin.
Upon closer look, the edge of a black lace bra peeked out. Her ample chest couldn't be contained, bursting forth in an eye-catching curve, explosively mature!
What the heck? Since when did discipline directors have such huge chests?
"Your Majesty, you're here."
"You're one of the Nine Fists, yet you ca here to be a discipline director?" Hachiman pointed at the busty battle shrine maiden sitting in the discipline director's chair with zero discipline-director vibes, wearing a "So that's what you're like" judgntal expression.
Waiting for him here was the only female among the Nine Fists, the busty battle shrine maiden everyone who'd read The Strongest Disciple Kenichi would rember— Kushinada Mikumo.
As a darkened version of a living fist practitioner, her acceptance of the Yomi philosophy even exceeded that of the other Nine Fists.
In this world, Hachiman was the first to witness this woman's shaless side.
"You say that…" Mikumo coquettishly batted her eyes, "You, as one of the world's strongest Seven Kings, aren't you also here as a PE teacher?"
Hachiman remained unmoved.
Beyond a physical reaction, psychologically he felt no closeness to Mikumo—besides, she's no loli! If she were a busty loli, then maybe!
The light in his eyes betrayed nothing: this woman's gaze was a stagnant pool full of death, starkly contrasting her passionate body.
She was like a demon spirit in the dark: beautiful, but a deadly trap that lures people to their doom.
This deathly stillness was deeply rooted inside her; no matter how seductive her posture, one only needed to et her eyes to sense that coldness.
It wasn't directed specifically at Hachiman, but the darkness within Mikumo was denser than most, likely the reason she strayed from the living fist style.
Of course, this darkness was no threat to a god-slayer like Hachiman, which was why he allowed Mikumo to linger around him. From the perspective of a subordinate or partner, she was extrely useful.
Mikumo didn't care about the calmness in Hachiman's eyes; seemingly expecting it, she chuckled, propping her hands on the desk and swaying her hips as she stood up.
Her tight black blazer perfectly outlined her fiery figure, and her black pencil skirt hugged her thighs to about 20 centiters above the knee in a curve any normally oriented male couldn't help but admire.
Her slender legs wore sheer black stockings, and her feet were clad in black peep-toe high heels, perfectly sculpting a mature, voluptuous allure.
And this woman was the pinnacle of that.
So, forget about all those beauty tips—girls, just train in martial arts! Master Hikigaya himself will personally guide you with deluxe VIP treatnt!
With the clicking of her high heels, Mikumo smiled and looped her arm through Hachiman's, the wonderful waves radiating from her chest expressing her joy.
Even though this joy couldn't hide her complete indifference to life and all seemingly beautiful things in this world.
But it was indeed joy, Hachiman could feel it.
"I've found several promising students here. Isn't that why you ca?" Mikumo's cool, clear voice echoed in Hachiman's ear as her red lips parted, "I understand, finding good disciples and passing on martial arts is what all martial arts masters do. Even Master Luo Hao couldn't avoid it, and surely Your Majesty now has the sa need.
I personally suggest you choose female disciples; they're more obedient, not as rebellious and unreasonable as n."
She spoke quite sensibly, but Hachiman swore he never considered that.
Besides, honestly, wouldn't female disciples have even more potential conflicts with their master? Like suddenly getting a boyfriend…
"I'm not picking disciples!" Hachiman stubbornly denied, unwilling to admit he'd felt a tiny bit tempted earlier.
Taking on a female disciple… seed kinda nice.
Eek! Forbidden master-disciple romance! How exciting!
No, wait, I'm going down the wrong path!
"Don't think you can drag into your ss just because your pit is deep." Hachiman pushed Mikumo away with authority. "Listen, I'm already an old hand; I'm not afraid of your trap."
The ancient Egyptians had certainly opened his eyes and greatly improved his academic level.
If anyone says ancient people had conservative positions, he'd smack them dead—the Egyptians had blown the roof off coolness.
Positions like top-bottom, rider… they all looked down on those.
The official explanation was it was to let the gods feel their reverence, a sacred act to commune with the growth of nature.
Just one or two positions? That's rude!
I smack you because I respect heaven and earth, and wish for national prosperity and ethnic strength—dare call dirty and you'll see.
Hachiman felt this was a quality worth learning.
However, he also found that his Egyptian-inspired cunning still didn't faze Mikumo much, because she laughed again, showing no fear.
She even started calling him by his given na.
"Hachiman, you've changed. What have you experienced?" Mikumo's eyes, once filled with death, now seed to glow.
There was surprise and suspicion, but more was burning passion.
As to what that passion was aid at, Hachiman didn't want to know at all.
"My experiences aren't much compared to yours," Hachiman waved his hand aningfully. "If you want disciples, that's your business, but don't lie or fish for people. Now, where's my student? Let … um, get acquainted first."
Compared to the dark aura of a scheming queen, he preferred the fragrance of a youthful girl.
"Hmm, it's your sister's class. Since you care about her, I suppose you don't trust others."
Mikumo dropped her coquettish act and resud the posture of a dark overlord.
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