(
[System Log]
Unique skill The Chunibyo Emperor[1]has been forcefully activated.
Unique skill: The Chunibyo Emperor
Host: Pointy
Primary Effect: Everyone who comes near (Average Human Distance) the host shall be affected by it and able to hear host's voice telepathicly. Host will be treated as other living God not as a non-living object.
Secondary effect: Unknown (Level is too low to see.)
Area coverage: 1,000,000 K.M.s
Time limit: None
Note: Only Readers and deity level being have access to the information.
)
____
You know your life's taken a weird turn when you wake up and realize — you are a full-time faculty member.
Not in a battle academy. Not in a temple.But in… The United Culinary Faith's Holy Academy of Flavor and Heroic Cuisine.
Or as I like to call it:
"The School of Overcooked Nightmares."
___
The Grand Opening
Trumpets blared. Confetti rained down.
Banners hung from the walls that said:
"Taste the Truth!"
"Season Your Soul!"
"Please Don't Explode the Kitchen (Again)."
Hundreds of bright-eyed students stood proudly, holding spatulas, whisks, and dreams.
Pantharion was front and center, wearing a little chef's hat balanced dramatically on his rim.
"Welcome, young chefs and warriors of cuisine!" he boomed."I am Dean Pantharion, your divine guide to the flames of destiny!"
The crowd cheered.
Then I spoke up.
"And I'm the knife. Please don't drop me."
Awkward silence.
Someone in the back whispered,
"Is… is the knife sad?"
"Only on weekdays," I replied.
____
Class Assignments
Pantharion strutted down the hall, reading the class list aloud.
"I'll be teaching 'Flame Control and Charisma 101'— a combination of cooking and public speaking!"
I scanned my own assignment sheet.
"...'Emotional Stability for Edgy Weapons.''
There was a long pause.
"Pan… why am I teaching therapy?"
"Because you are the therapy."
"I'm the reason therapy exists."
___
My First Class
Room 3-B smelled like metal polish and regret.Rows of sentient weapons sat on benches — swords, daggers, even a very smug rolling pin.
I floated to the front, trying to sound wise.
"Alright, class. Lesson one: Not every wielder who forgets to clean you hates you."
A spear raised its tip.
"But what if they store us in damp bags?"
"Then they're monsters," I said."But emotional rust only makes you stronger."
The class nodded seriously.A dagger in the corner sniffled.
"You're… so sharp yet so soft inside…"
I sighed.
"Don't get attached, kid. I'm literally a knife."
_____
Meanwhile, in Pantharion's Class…
Through the wall, I could hear shouting, applause, and occasional explosions.
"FEEL THE FLAME! BECOME ONE WITH THE HEAT!"
I peeked in.
Students were running around, half of them on fire, the other half cheering.Pantharion stood at the center like a rock star in a frying pan mosh pit.
"When the pan gets too hot — SCREAM LOUDER!"
"Pan, this isn't teaching," I muttered."It's arson with style."
"Exactly!" he said."Education should ignite passion—literally!"
____
The Student Disaster Festival
A week later, the academy hosted its first big event:"The Heroic Cooking Showcase."
The goal?Cook a dish that represents your inner soul.
What we got instead:
Exploding soufflés
Crying spatulas
One student who tried to deep-fry a sword
"to give it armor"
Pantharion clapped proudly.
"Marvelous creativity!"
"Pan," I said, "half the building is smoking."
"That's just flavor escaping into the atmosphere."
Then, one nervous student stepped up — a tiny butter knife named Nippy.He trembled.
"I-I don't have much power, but… I want to make people smile."
He chopped vegetables softly, humming to himself.No explosions. No chaos.Just quiet warmth.
The crowd went still.
For a moment… I felt it.That same spark from when I was first forged —the feeling that purpose doesn't have to be sharp to be meaningful.
Pantharion whispered,
"He's good."
"He's better than both of us," I said.
When Nippy presented his dish, the judges wept.
"It tastes… like childhood!"
"And possibly soap," I added, "but still—moving."
He won, of course.And for once, neither Pan nor I complained.
Because for the first time, this wasn't chaos or faith.It was heart.
Later That Night
As students celebrated, Pantharion and I watched from the rooftop.
"You know, Pointy," he said, "we might actually be doing good here."
"Yeah," I replied. "Accidentally."
"Isn't that how all legends start?"
I thought for a moment, then chuckled.
"You're right. We just keep tripping upward."
[System Notice!]
Title Acquired: "Professors of Chaos."Skill Unlocked: "Educational Burnout Resistance."
Down below, fireworks (and a few student mishaps) lit up the night sky.
Sparks reflected off my blade as I whispered,
"Maybe… being a knife isn't so bad."
Pantharion hummed proudly beside me.
"Especially when you're part of a full course."
To Be Continued…
[1] Chunibyo is a Japanese term for "eighth-grader syndrome," a colloquial term for an adolescent delusion of grandeur where individuals believe they have hidden knowledge or secret powers. This behavior is a way for teenagers to cope with reality and stand out by escaping into an imaginary world. The term is famously used in the anime series Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions.