CHAPTER 278: BAN IS BACK [1]

Nothing ever goes as you plan in this damned world.

That was a line from some famous guy... though for the life of me, I can’t remember who. All I know is that his words stuck with me, and standing here now, I can’t deny the truth in them.

I’d been hoping for a peaceful morning, a chance to shake off last night and just... breathe. But apparently, fate—or whatever twisted author runs this world—had other ideas.

Because here I am, in class, and of course, something just had to happen.

No warning, no buildup. Just bam, an incident right in the middle of homeroom.

Well... I guess that’s how most incidents happen anyway. Sudden. Out of nowhere. Dropping into your lap whether you’re ready or not.

Still, you get my point, right?

I sighed, already feeling the weight of trouble settling in. So much for my "peaceful morning."

Instead of Miss Buttcheeks, who usually sat at my desk with that strange smirk plastered on her face, there were... vegetable boxes. Piled high. And standing guard over them was a familiar-looking farmer.

Thanks to that, the Buttcheeks—who had now taken the form of Kiera—was trembling beside my desk like a frightened rabbit.

What in the actual hell was this sight?

Was I still dreaming?

"Oh, you’re finally here!" The farmer beamed at me. His tanned skin gleamed with sweat, and his voice carried all the enthusiasm of a salesman on his last day of work. "I was worried the fresh vegetables I brought would spoil before you arrived!"

I went to school today, and there was a terrorist in my classroom.

And worse—he was polishing a cucumber.

Like, really polishing it. With care. With affection.

He flexed his sun-browned muscles, rubbed the cucumber with a cloth like it was some kind of divine artifact, and then held it out toward Kiera’s friend.

"You don’t eat cucumbers even though you don’t have any allergies. And you even dared to throw food on the floor, didn’t you?"

Ah. Shit. It hit me.

I remembered now.

This lunatic had said he’d leave after "meeting me" today, so clearly, he wanted to wrap up all his unfinished business before that.

The classroom was dead silent. For some reason, Ryen wasn’t even trying to intervene; he was just watching with this detached expression like this was free entertainment. Meanwhile, Leo had plugged in his earphones and completely checked out of reality, as if the apocalypse had nothing to do with him.

"Eat this cucumber."

The farmer—Ban—pressed on relentlessly. His eyes burned with a missionary’s zeal.

"It’s not that you don’t like cucumbers. It’s that you’ve never tasted a proper cucumber! A nicely chilled cucumber is refreshing, crisp, and bursting with moisture. If you pickle it in honey, it tastes just like melon. Imagine that!"

The class collectively leaned back, like his madness was contagious.

He was insane.

No—he was beyond insane.

Yup. Ban wasn’t just a madman. Ban was the madman.

And somehow, this was happening in my classroom.

Ban’s cucumber gleamed under the morning sunlight like some holy relic, and for one horrifying second, I thought he was going to start chanting hymns to it.

Kiera, poor Kiera, looked like she’d sooner stab herself with a pencil than accept the offering. Her friend—unlucky soul—was the intended victim, and she shrank back in her chair until her spine practically fused with the wall.

"I–I don’t want it..." she whispered.

Ban froze. Slowly. Painfully slowly. His hand, still cradling the cucumber, trembled like he’d just been mortally wounded.

"...You don’t want it?" His voice dropped, low and sharp.

Every single person in class stiffened.

I swore under my breath. Here we go.

Ban suddenly slammed the cucumber down on my desk—my desk!—and the crack of wood echoed through the room like a gunshot.

The cucumber didn’t even bruise. Of course it didn’t. It was probably forged in hell.

"You ungrateful children don’t understand the gift of the land!" Ban roared, his voice vibrating with unholy conviction. "You waste, you scoff, you sneer at the harvest! But do you know what happens when crops are abandoned?"

The class exchanged horrified glances. No one answered.

Ban leaned in, eyes wild. "They rot. And then... so will you."

...Okay. That was officially over the line between eccentric farmer and agricultural terrorist.

"You’re the only one left!" Ban declared, pointing at me like a prophet delivering his final sermon. "Everyone else has accepted the vegetables! Once your turn is over, I’ll be busy with scouting offers, so hurry up and eat this cucumber...!"

The classroom erupted into screams as Ban shoved the long, green, bumpy thing toward a trembling girl in the front row. With a sickening crunch, she bit down, her face twisting as the sound echoed in the silence.

"...Ryen," I muttered, gripping my desk, "why didn’t you stop him?"

Ryen shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Well, he doesn’t seem like a bad person."

For the first time since I possessed this body, I seriously questioned whether this guy’s sense of justice was broken—or if he was just a psychopath in disguise.

"Oh..." The girl blinked, chewing carefully. Her expression shifted. "...It’s actually good."

Ban’s eyes gleamed with vindication. "See? It’s delicious, isn’t it? Crisp, refreshing, full of life! Remember this taste. Don’t waste food ever again. I won’t be as lenient as a cucumber next time."

She nodded quickly, too afraid—or maybe too brainwashed—to disagree.

Ban turned, beaming at the class. "See?"

I clenched my fists under the desk. See? What "see?" you bastard. A normal person doesn’t storm into a classroom and force-feed terrified students like some deranged vegetable cult leader.

But here we were. And somehow, no one but me seemed to think this was insane.

Ban raised the cucumber high, like Moses parting the Red Sea.

"This!" he bellowed, his booming voice rattling the classroom windows. "This is not just a cucumber. This... is the fruit of sweat, soil, and soul! Every bead of moisture within it is a tear shed by the farmer who nurtured it. Every crunch is the voice of the land calling out, ’Do not waste me!’"

He slammed the cucumber down on the desk again. The wood creaked in protest, but the cucumber remained pristine. Of course it did. This was no ordinary cucumber—it was a weapon forged through sheer lunacy.

"Do you know how long it takes for one seed to sprout?" Ban continued, pacing like a general before his trembling troops. "Days of labor, months of patience, years of respect for the earth. And yet—" He suddenly spun toward the girl who had dared to whisper earlier, his eyes blazing. "—you dared to toss food aside as if it were garbage!"

The girl squeaked, shrinking back into her chair.

Ban pointed the cucumber at her like it was a divine scepter. "A farmer bleeds into the soil so that you may live another day! When you scorn the harvest, you scorn the hands that fed you. You spit upon the sun, the rain, and the very earth beneath your feet!"

"Uh, sir," one brave idiot in the back raised his hand timidly, "aren’t you... overreacting? It’s just a cucumber—"

"JUST A CUCUMBER!?"

Ban thundered, cutting him off. His veins bulged as he slammed his fist on the nearest desk, splintering it clean in half. Students gasped. The boy who spoke sank lower than his chair, wishing he could sink straight through the floor.

Ban jabbed the cucumber in his direction, his eyes practically glowing. "This ’just a cucumber’ could save a starving village! This ’just a cucumber’ is the difference between hope and despair! Mock it again, and I’ll make you eat cucumbers until you see the face of God!"

Dead silence. Not even Leo’s earphones could drown out that madness.

Ban took a deep breath, his chest heaving. Then he smiled—a wide, beatific smile that was far more terrifying than his rage. "Remember, children... vegetables are life. Meat is greed, sweets are vanity, but vegetables—vegetables are purity. To reject them is to reject life itself."

He raised the cucumber once more. The light from the window struck it just right, making it glisten ominously like some kind of holy relic.

"Eat the land. Respect the land. Or one day, the land will eat you."

The classroom collectively leaned back, their faces pale.

Even I couldn’t stop the shiver crawling down my spine.

"Phew, now let’s get down to business."

The madman’s eyes locked onto me.

"You... yes, you. I can tell you’ve had a hearty breakfast. I can see the nutrients rejoicing in your body!"

For the record, no—he absolutely could not. That wasn’t a skill. That was just delusion, painted over with the confidence of a man who could probably wrestle a cow for fun.

"You haven’t wasted a single bite of food...! Wonderful! That’s exactly the kind of discipline the land respects. Come—after you graduate from this academy, join our farm! The successor training will begin immediately!"

His sun-browned muscles flexed under his shirt as if to emphasize "successor training." Honestly, it was better than seeing them bare, but it still wasn’t a sight I ever wanted to witness before lunch.

"That’s enough."

The voice cut through the madness.

It wasn’t Ryen, lounging like nothing was wrong.

It wasn’t Leo either, lost in his music like the world had ended and he’d chosen a soundtrack.

It was Leona.

Ah, Leona...! I knew it. I knew I could count on you. Always the knight in shining armor. Always dependable when things turned insane.

She stepped forward, calm but sharp, her gaze fixed on Ban like a drawn sword.

"This isn’t your farm. This is our classroom. Take your vegetables and leave."

Ban blinked at her, honestly stunned for a moment.