Call me Shinobi-sama!
Chapter 30: Wheeze. Wheeze.

Chapter 30: Wheeze. Wheeze.

The situation within the Royal Academy of Japan could best be described as organized chaotic mess.

In an effort to foster rapid skill development through intense training and competition, the academy leadership had implemented a ruthless incentive system that turned teachers into strategic predators and clubs into mini-corporations.

Each staff member received a base salary that was shockingly low, just 75% of the national median. For a prestigious institution, this was almost insulting on paper. But there was a twist.

Every staff member had to be involved in a student club. Participation wasn’t optional.

Performance-based bonuses were tied directly to club success, and these bonuses were... Insane.

Ridiculous, even.

If a club won the national title, every single staff member involved would receive a staggering 1000x multiplier on their base salary.

Yes.

One. Freaking. Thousand. Times.

So if a teacher made $2,000 per month, they’d receive $2 million as a bonus if their club topped the national rankings!

It didn’t matter if they were the coach, assistant coach, water boy, or the person who made motivational posters. If their name was on the club roster, the bonus was theirs.

Naturally, this turned every staff member into a highly motivated, semi-obsessed club strategist.

To motivate them even further, the school matched this intensity with unparalleled resources.

Every club had access to state-of-the-art facilities: motion capture analysis rooms, 3D simulators, AI-powered sparring bots, and even fully immersive VR zones. Some clubs took over entire buildings. Others converted rooftops into vertical farms for urban survival training. One literature club had its own mini library, soundproofed reading chambers, and a retired monk to teach Zen poetry.

Creativity was encouraged. If it merely worked, it had to be upgraded. Everything had to work wildly beyond their wildest wet dream to be considered as worthy of being used consistently.

Training was crazy, but it was nothing compared to recruitment.

Every staff member knew that nothing defined their achievement of that juicy, yummilicious bonu- ehm, nothing ensured their beloved school’s glory more than recruiting genius seedlings.

The search for the next prodigy started the moment the school gates opened. Staff members transformed into headhunters. It wasn’t unusual to see a martial arts coach lurking near the track, evaluating a long jumper’s balance. Or a drama instructor attending chemistry lab presentations, scouting for someone with "stage charisma in how they mix acids."

Staff members handed out free drinks, snacks, and sometimes rare Pokémon cards to entice new students into just trying out for their club. One club even hosted a "test your talents" carnival, complete with cotton candy, quiz games, and a dunk tank featuring the vice principal.

Deals were made in stairwells. Promises were whispered in the library. Fliers were shoved into lunch trays. Some clubs created PowerPoint presentations with full animated transitions. Others made rap music videos.

There was even an incident involving a minor traffic jam near the front gate caused by a club that rented a mascot suit and started offering free piggyback rides to any freshmen who filled out an interest form.

Of course, behind the smiles and marketing gimmicks, there was a singular goal: win first place nationally. Second place was still a solid 100x multiplier on their base salaries, but... Only the gold trophy came with the million-dollar payouts.

For the students, it was exhilarating and mildly terrifying. For the staff, it was the closest they’d ever come to a financial lottery. And for the academy, it was working far better than anyone had anticipated.

It was also the reason why Professor Tsunaka nearly lost her mind with joy when she spotted the legendary Shiina Kanzaki stepping onto her training field while dragging along a strange boy she didn’t recognize.

Professor Tsunaka’s pupils dilated. Her breath hitched. Her voice cracked mid-command. Somewhere in her heart, a symphony of cash registers and victory flags began playing in harmony.

Shiina, on the other hand, looked completely resigned.

She knew what this was and she had already made peace with it.

As a top-tier member of the Combat Division, Shiina Kanzaki wasn’t just another student. She was a legend in the making.

The Combat Division, one of the more grounded clubs in the school, trained specifically for the National Combat Tournament: a savage elimination event that dumped 100 students onto a deserted island each round and told them to steal each other’s tags until only ten were left standing.

Survive. Ambush. Scheme. Outlast.

And then repeat until only the top 100 nationwide remained for the Final Combat Arena, a brutal royale held live before tens of thousands of viewers and a selection panel of military, corporate, and espionage recruiters.

Shiina had placed 4th in that tournament as a first-year.

4th.

Not 40th. Not top half. Fourth.

She had taken down seniors twice her weight class and outplayed entire squads with nothing but a metal pipe. Rumor had it that by the time the Combat Arena ended, the once gleaming metal pipe had turned completely maroon, covered by the blood of her opponents.

Everyone in the school saw her as the golden ticket to glory. Her victory this year was practically assumed. The Combat Division worshipped her. Sponsors whispered her name. Even rival schools spoke of her with respectful anxiety.

So yes, she knew that Professor Tsunaka, coach of the completely insane but technically school-registered Royal Martial Arts Team, was going to throw a fit of nuclear proportions trying to recruit her.

And yes, she knew that Professor Jinraiya, the cold-blooded, sharp-eyed mastermind behind the Combat Division’s rising dynasty, was going to fight tooth and nail to keep her.

It was not her problem.

Today, she just wanted the drama to end, return to her dorm, and spend three solid hours reading a questionable fantasy comic about a sword that turns into a cat and solves magical crimes with a hot vampire butler.

She hadn’t even taken a bath yet.

Let the grown-ups fight over contracts and club forms.

All she wanted was her blanket, her tablet, and peace.

The boy beside her, however, looked like someone who was about to accidentally make both professors rewrite their entire club strategies for the next ten years.

And Shiina, without even looking at him, sighed.

"Please don’t do anything stupid." she muttered.

Which, of course, guaranteed he absolutely would.

"Why would I do anything stupid?" Akira asked Shiina innocently.

"She wanted us to fight Brown Bears, right? Although I do not understand the situation completely, I know a test when I see one. This is a test. I’ve seen it before. Listen to me, Shiina-san. We must kill those bears quickly and then rip their heads off.

After that, we have to reach in into their chests to take their hearts, and then eat them up before they stop beating. One each for me and for you."

Akira nodded once at her, his eyes grave and grim.

"Only then will we be considered as having passed the test. And only then will this bloodthirsty gang leader free us. Do you understand me?"

Akira looked at Shiina seriously.

Shiina blinked.

Then she blinked again.

Her lips twitched and her shoulders trembled.

And then she burst out laughing!

A clear, melodious laugh that rang out through the air beautifully.

She held her stomach and leaned forward as she let loose what seemed like an entire decade’s worth of pent up laughter.

Hahahahahaha! Hahahahahaha! Hahaha! Wheeze. Wheeze. Hahahahahaha!!! Hahahahahahahaha!!

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