Jane was the embodiment of what students often referred to as "Kizen-esque."
If she deemed a student to lack potential—or worse, to possess a poor attitude—she was infamous for expelling them without a second thought.
Even third-year students, whom Kizen regarded as valuable high-level assets, had not been spared from her blade of expulsion. It was only natural, then, that Class A was already trembling in fear.
"Then," Jane said calmly, breaking the silence, "let us begin the class."
Her voice alone was enough to straighten backs.
"As you all know, Elementary Black Magic encompasses eight core subjects," she continued. "It exists to supplement the foundations of necromancy—areas that individual disciplines cannot fully address on their own."
At her signal, several assistants entered the classroom carrying thick stacks of papers, distributing them efficiently to each desk.
"Before that," Jane went on, "you need to understand how proficient you truly are in those eight subjects."
At those words, everyone's shoulders stiffened—
Everyone except Knox, who already knew what was coming.
A test? On the first day?
A comprehensive evaluation right from the start—completely unexpected.
"Each subject's examination will last twenty-two minutes," Jane said evenly.
"We will begin with four subjects, followed by a four-minute break, and then immediately proceed with the remaining four."
Her eyes swept across the room.
"If anyone is caught cheating, I will remember your name."
She paused. "And once the student protection period ends, I will expel you personally."
There wasn't even time to swallow.
Having thoroughly cornered the class, Jane folded her arms. "Let us begin the test."
No countdown. No mercy.
Just the sound of papers being turned—and hearts sinking.
For Simon, this was his very first school exam. For Knox, however, it was something else entirely.
Although this was his first test in this life, in his previous one he could already be considered a veteran—someone who had survived countless examinations.
Unfortunately, those memories were… bad ones. And even more unfortunately, they were happening again right before his eyes.
"…Sigh. Tests really do haunt me, even in another life," Knox muttered quietly.
Despite his complaining, it was only verbal. His hand moved smoothly and swiftly across the paper, filling in answers without hesitation.
[7. After casting the Paralysis Curse, the subject exhibited muscle rigidity and hypertonia, eventually turning to stone after twenty minutes. Assuming the subject's internal mana loss rate is zero, what is the correct Darkness value to be added to the Paralysis magic circle based on the subject's curse resistance?]
Easy peasy, lemon squeezy~ Knox thought.
The once-blank test paper rapidly filled with writing. In just thirty minutes, Knox had finished everything.
With nothing left to do, he calmly leaned back—
And fell asleep.
Because of that, several students began shooting him looks as if he were the most infuriating person in the room.
And so, the three hours passed. An eternity for most students.
But for Knox, it felt like little more than a blink, about as brief as time felt to a certain shut-in Electro Archon in Teyvat.
"Uuugh…"
"That was brutal."
Even after the exam ended, the classroom was filled with groans.
Rick passed his test sheet to the student behind him, then turned to Simon.
"How was it, Simon?"
Simon gave a bitter smile. "…I really need to study harder."
Then both of them turned toward Knox.
Simon hesitated before asking, "Knox… did you fall asleep because the test was too difficult?"
Knox stared at him. The kind of stare one reserved for something profoundly foolish.
"Too difficult?" he repeated. "What are you talking about?" He tilted his head innocently. "I finished everything and then went to sleep. I mean, the test was way too easy."
The smile he wore was innocent. But the words he spoke were not.
Although his voice wasn't loud, it carried clearly.
The result—
Silence. Class A froze.
Students stared at Knox as if they had just heard heresy.
The assistant professors looked at him as if they had encountered an entirely new species.
Professor Jane, meanwhile, fixed him with a gaze that plainly said:
This kid is causing trouble again.
Rick's mouth fell open so wide that even Paimon could've flown inside.
"…What?" he croaked.
Then he hurriedly added, "Then—what about the last question? Number twenty?"
At that, several prideful students—Meilyn and Jamie included—turned sharp gazes toward Knox.
Knox blinked. "Hm? Number twenty?" He smiled. "Ah, that one was interesting. Still pretty easy, though."
The silence deepened. It was as if time itself had frozen.
Only Professor Jane looked at him differently. Because only she truly understood how Knox's mind worked.
Then Meilyn spoke up. "…Then," she asked quietly, "what was the answer?"
Knox turned toward her, surprised for a moment—then smiled.
"1,200,000."
A murmur spread.
Some students' faces darkened.
Others scoffed openly, convinced he had to be wrong.
Before Meilyn could speak again, Knox added calmly,
"If you don't believe me, why not ask Professor Jane?"
He looked toward her with a polite smile.
To Jane, however, that smile looked far less polite—and far more like the grin of a scoundrel.
She sighed. "Student Knox's answer is correct," she said flatly.
"The correct value is 1,200,000."
The reaction was immediate.
The students who had scoffed earlier felt as if the sky had collapsed.
Even Meilyn was left speechless.
And Knox? He simply yawned.
After collecting all the test sheets, Jane addressed the students.
"Good work, everyone. Have a pleasant lunch. I'll see you again in two hours."
"Thank you, Professor!"
No matter how crushed they felt, the mere mention of lunch was enough to revive them. Some things never changed.
Soon, the students of Class A poured out of the classroom like a receding tide.
"Let's begin."
"Yes, Professor!"
Now began the real work for Jane and her assistants.
They sorted the exam sheets and took their seats, quills scratching paper almost immediately. Among them all, Jane was by far the fastest.
Her hand moved so swiftly it was nearly invisible. Her quill raced from top to bottom before flipping to the next page without pause.
"..."
At some point, a small face appeared beside Jane's desk.
A young girl rested her cheeks on the edge, blinking large blue eyes.
"…You must be busy," Jane said coldly. "Why are you here, Lady Nefthis?"
Nefthis smiled innocently.
"To play!"
"..."
Jane ignored her and continued grading.
Sulking, Nefthis swung her legs as she clung to the desk, fidgeting restlessly. Eventually, Jane snapped and struck the top of her head with the edge of her hand.
"Ow!"
"Don't interrupt."
"Waaah! Jane always hits meee!"
Clutching her head, Nefthis scampered off and grabbed the hem of a nearby assistant's robe.
The assistant froze pale at the sudden contact with Kizen's ruler.
"Huuuh…"
Jane sighed.
"Stop tormenting my poor assistant and come back here."
"No! You'll hit me again if I do!"
"Now."
Jane's voice was calm—cold, commanding.
Nefthis puffed her cheeks, then reluctantly shuffled back.
"Everyone," Jane said, "take the test papers and move to the empty classroom next door. Continue grading there."
"Yes, Professor!"
As if waiting for that exact order, the assistants grabbed the papers and hurried out.
Nefthis glared after them, cheeks puffed.
"Jane! You've been so cold to me lately!"
"This is how I've always been."
"Hmph! You've changed! When I picked you up from the slums, you were a scared little girl clinging to my hand—so pure and innocent!"
"That 'pure child' turned into this after years of nonstop overtime and work-related stress."
Jane handed half the test papers to her.
Nefthis blinked. "Huh? What's this?"
"What do you think?" Jane replied flatly. "If you're here, help with grading instead of getting in the way."
"..."
Realizing too late, Nefthis laughed awkwardly and tried to retreat. Jane caught her instantly and tucked her under one arm.
"Waaah! Nooo! Let me go! I don't want to work!"
Another chop landed on Nefthis's head.
Jane sat her down properly and shoved a quill into her hand.
"Jane," Nefthis muttered, "you know this is child abuse and a labor law violation, right?"
"Who are you calling a child?" Jane replied coldly. "Borrowing Knox's words—you're just a loli baba. Now stop talking and work."
"…Yes."
For a while, only the sound of quills scratching paper filled the room.
After finishing five test sheets in an instant, Jane glanced at Nefthis.
Still sulking, Nefthis had written dummy over a wrong answer.
"What are you doing?" Jane said. "Don't fool around."
She struck Nefthis's head again.
"But it's true!" Nefthis protested. "They got Toxicology question two right, but answered the comparison question right below it wrong!"
Jane glanced over the sheet.
"…Hm."
"They used the correct formula for number two," Jane said, "then answered number three using common sense instead of reasoning. A very common mistake."
"Dummy! Dummy!" Nefthis flipped the page. "What's this kid's name?"
"…It's hidden."
"It's a blind evaluation," Jane explained. "Names can cause bias."
"…That's thorough," Nefthis muttered. "Even for a test."
"Even tests can yield interesting results."
Jane pulled out another graded paper. "And this one is the opposite of what you just saw."
"What do you mean?"
"They missed most of the basic questions from one to fifteen." Jane flipped the sheet. "But then—"
She turned to the last page.
"Question twenty."
The page was filled with dense formulas—almost chaotic.
"What is all this?"
"Ancient runes from Darkness Dynamics. Skeleton instance formulas from Summonology. Exhaust calculations from Katarology."
"…You don't mean—"
Jane nodded.
"This student had no preparatory study. They constructed a logical solution using only last week's lessons."
Nefthis skimmed the page.
"…They solved a Darkness calculation using summoning formulas?" She blinked. "Assuming resistance scales with Darkness loss rate?"
"Yes."
"So… did they get it right?"
Jane shook her head.
"Using the Teron Theorem, the intended answer is 1,200,000."
"Then what did they answer?"
"1,200,146."
Jane's expression hardened.
"It wasn't the intended solution—but it was closer to the truth."
Nefthis noticed something else. Jane had marked question twenty as correct.
"Lady Nefthis," Jane asked quietly, "may I ask you something?"
"Hm?"
"Why did you assign me to teach the first-year class?"
She tore away the cover.
[Simon Polentia]
"Specifically… why this boy?"
She revealed another paper—perfect score.
[Knox Aznable]
"And why Knox as well? I understand placing me with Knox. Personally and professionally, I have no objections."
Jane paused. "But why Simon?"
Nefthis rested her chin on her hands and beamed.
"Hehe~ I don't really get what you're talking about."
Jane sighed inwardly.
…What a fox. A three-hundred-year-old fox of a woman.
Somewhere far away, a certain Electro Archon would have nodded in agreement—while glaring suspiciously at an old pink fox.