I Became the Teacher of a Troll Tribe

Chapter 4: Zul Dron (2)

I must survive.

As someone from a welfare state, the concept of dying because of a lack of money doesn’t really resonate with me. But expecting anything from a troll is pure greed.

There were fifteen days left until the payment deadline.

Starting next week, as the director had said, Toka would take over the Troll Class B.

In other words, today was my last class.

The rain falling outside made it the perfect day to appeal to emotions.

“Glad to see you all. Since everyone seems to be here, I’ll skip the roll call.”

Unlike the Troll Class A, which was more like a hobby group, Class B was considered an advanced course.

The ones who came all the way here in the evening likely had their own reasons, but…

‘Promotion’s probably the biggest one.’

Had that famous quote from a general—about knowing one’s enemy—spread even here? To get promoted to a higher rank within the tribe, a certain level of proficiency in the human language was required.

Of course, that standard wasn’t very high. For trolls with relatively high intelligence, like shamans, two weeks would suffice. Even average warriors could graduate within two or three months.

Occasionally, I’d heard of some whose brains were so full of muscle that they stayed in the class for a long time... but most of them ended up giving up on promotion altogether.

Well, I’d seen this pattern plenty of times in real life, so I was already used to it.

“I have some news to share.”

Standing at the lectern, I scanned the classroom. About 20 trolls sat slouched in their seats. It was slightly fewer than usual.

“After today’s class, Toka will be taking over this class instead of me.”

The message didn’t seem to get through, perhaps because most of them were warriors. So, I clarified further.

“To put it simply, today is the last day you’ll see me.”

“Krurk!”

“...!”

Finally, a reaction. It was time to toss out the bait.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules. Toka is a competent teacher!”

After pausing briefly, I continued.

“...Though she doesn’t compare to me.”

“Krurk?”

“Human! What do you mean by that?”

Alright, I got a few bites.

“What do I mean? Isn’t it obvious? I am the only human in Zul Dron who speaks Troll fluently. I understand not only the language but also their culture, history, and behavior. Toka is a fine teacher, but that’s all. How could a troll like her compare to me?”

“....”

“Gromnar, Felkain, Urgrim, Asemork.”

I listed the names of recent graduates. The mention of these familiar names piqued the interest of those sitting before me.

“Gromnar took my class and now leads warriors in wider, higher places in service of the tribe.”

He had become an elite warrior in the Guard Corps.

“Felkain, you all know her without me saying it. She’s now regarded as the most respected shaman in this land.”

She hadn’t even taken two weeks to graduate.

“Urgrim? Asemork? You’d better get acquainted with them. They might be future battlefield leaders.”

One of them had even rearranged his schedule to take my class. A human who teaches well, they’d said.

Words like battlefield leader, shaman, and elite warrior seemed to stir their competitive spirits. The looks in their eyes as they stared at me began to change.

It was time to shake things up even more.

“Bragnar!”

I directly called out one of them.

“I’ve heard you’ve been attending this academy since before I came. How long has it been?”

“A year... about a year!”

“And the reason?”

“Krurk! To become an elite warrior in the Scout Corps. I’ve met all the other requirements, but because of the human language...”

“How much has your proficiency improved since taking my class?”

“...A lot.”

Exactly. My next target was…

“Stone Grunder!”

“...Gooooh!”

“Everyone here knows. Until recently, Stone Grunder couldn’t even read the simplest human letters.”

He was a promising warrior supported by the tribe but notoriously dense when it came to learning.

“Tell me, if Toka had been in my place, would you have been able to read?”

“I’m not sure... but it wouldn’t have been easy!”

What was that?

Wrong!

“Incorrect! The correct answer is, ‘I wouldn’t have been able to.’ The reason you can now read letters you failed to grasp for years is undeniably because of my class!”

Stone Grunder fell silent. Raising my voice, a few others adjusted their posture.

“I teach for 12 hours a day and research for another six.”

A pitiful truth.

“...Even in my sleep, I think about how to teach better.”

This, of course, was exaggerated.

“Do you know why I go to such lengths?”

The once noisy classroom fell silent. The mood was set.

“...For your dreams.”

“...!!”

Even I cringed at my own words. Still, my experience told me this would work on them.

A question came.

“Human! What are you trying to say? Are you asking us to change the schedule?”

It sounded accusatory, but it was actually a very polite inquiry.

“No. As I said, Toka is a capable teacher. There will certainly be those who pass their exams under her guidance.”

“Then what are you asking for?”

“...As your former teacher, I wish you all the best in achieving your goals as soon as possible.”

Was it necessary to go this far with trolls?

Yes.

Because my life was at stake.

“From now on, I’ll come to you directly.”

Have you heard of private tutoring?

“Two hours, 150,000 gold.”

“...!”

As I revealed my true intentions, a few quickly withdrew their interest, as if they had expected this.

“Krurk, so this was your plan all along.”

‘Ah, the brains of the group.’

Most of them were shamans sitting in the front row.

That was fine. From the start, my goal wasn’t to hook all of them.

Just one.

I needed just one.

For about five more minutes, I continued the awkward tug-of-war with them.

I explained what private tutoring was, its merits, and how the pricing worked, passionately building on the groundwork I had laid earlier.

But the response was lukewarm.

‘....’

In the remaining time, I fulfilled my duty as their teacher.

However, during that time, I definitely noticed something.

The very last row of the classroom. In the farthest corner.

From there…

“Goo... goooooooh!”

The very embodiment of a dullard in Troll Class B. Stone Grunder’s eyes sparkled brighter than any jewel I had ever seen.

***

"That concludes today’s class. Good work, everyone."

The human language class.

Recently, I had been using Trollish more and more, making my formal speech sound awkward.

Ah, using honorifics in class was a habit ingrained from my time in the real world.

Even after coming here, I hadn’t managed to fix it.

“Today too, t-thank you for your hard work.”

It was Evelyn. As always, she was holding a piece of troll bread in her hand.

“I heard you’ve been promoted to Moiran.”

Oh? News travels fast, doesn’t it?

“If you ever run into any t-taxes or other problems, come to the research lab where I work. Just mention Evelyn Weaver, and they’ll tell you where I am. Got it?”

Was she really offering to help with taxes too? …How kind-hearted can she be?

I stared at the troll bread in her hand for a long moment. And then, without taking it, I spoke, my voice carrying more weight than usual.

“Evelyn Weaver.”

“Yes? Ah! Don’t take it the wrong way. A project I was working on wrapped up successfully, so I have a little extra room in my budget—”

“Come to my house this weekend.”

I had escaped slavery. And now, I have some money.

Why not?

***

The reason I called Evelyn was simple. I owed her a lot.

She had shown me endless kindness just because we had been dragged here on the same day. I couldn’t even count how many pieces of troll bread I had taken from her.

It was time to repay the favor.

‘I should also ask her more about Moiran.’

The hierarchical system wasn’t part of the game’s original setting, so I needed to learn about it anew.

From what I’d experienced so far, I knew it meant recognition of private property, tax obligations, and access to commercial district facilities.

Apparently, humans faced additional restrictions in these areas, but... I’d learned all of this from Evelyn.

“Ah… h-hello?”

“Come in.”

When the agreed time arrived, Evelyn showed up.

She wasn’t wearing her usual research uniform but casual clothes.

As expected of a European—she pulled off traditional troll-style attire effortlessly.

‘Come to think of it, this is the first time we’re meeting like this on a weekend.’

Back then, going out on weekends was a luxury for slaves.

Getting caught wandering around idly meant being immediately conscripted into labor.

Though, going to the language academy for special lectures wasn’t much different.

I served the raptor roast I’d bought in the morning and a simple troll-style soup.

“Eh? Raptor meat?”

“I can go to the market now, you know. I bought it to celebrate. I owe you a lot.”

“Owe me? You’ve taught me so much! If anything, I’m the one who owes you!”

That was just because she was always in grad student mode.

Evelyn had consistently been the top student in Human Class B.

“Thank you for the meal! Honestly, I was worried and hadn’t had the chance to congratulate you, but it’s good to see you doing well! Congratulations on your promotion!”

She seemed fascinated as she looked around my troll-style studio.

Hadn’t she mentioned living in a dormitory at the research lab?

“...Let’s eat.”

I bit into the raptor roast and washed it down with barley tea from the weekly rations.

The meat was tough, and the barley tea had a slightly fishy taste, but how long had it been since I’d enjoyed such a leisurely weekend?

The spring sunlight of Zul Dron filtered through the bars of the window. Various topics flowed across the table.

Life as a Moiran.

The project she had recently completed.

My reduced teaching schedule and new tutoring sessions.

The ongoing tensions with the Empire.

And so on.

How much time had passed?

Suddenly, an awkward silence descended upon us, as if by prior agreement.

The first to break it was me.

“...I see. That happened.”

“...Yes, it was quite surprising for me too.”

We weren’t even talking about anything significant.

Apparently, Evelyn’s senior researcher’s raptor had laid eggs, but their color and pattern were completely different from the parents.

Raptor infidelity? That’s all I needed to say to wrap it up.

But the sudden heaviness in the air...

‘She must be feeling it too.’

The overwhelming sense of disconnection that surged with every word.

‘Is this… modern human conversation?’

More than six months had passed since I woke up in this game-like world.

Struggling to survive, I had somehow adapted to life here.

Getting up in the morning, hastily washing up, going to the language academy to teach, coming home to review materials, preparing for the next day’s classes...

Written out, it didn’t seem much different from my life back in the real world.

Except.

‘Does it make sense that my students are trolls?’

Everyone knew it—the trolls, Evelyn, and the rest of the exhausted humans were forced to attend the academy every morning.

This world was one we had once played in as a game.

Waking up to almost dying, being chosen by a "hidden trait" to survive, only to find reality no better than a gutter.

It wasn’t even a secret anymore that many enslaved humans were mentally pushed to the brink, resorting to desperate measures.

The number of people executed for attempting to escape was steadily rising.

“Evelyn.”

“...Yes, teacher?”

“Do you think we… got lucky?”

“...”

Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to answer.

She knew.

If we were truly lucky, we wouldn’t have been dragged here in the first place.

There’d be no need to talk about Moiran or raptors or anything else.

“Haah.”

...The mood grew even heavier. That wasn’t my intention.

“Ahem! So, tell me about where you’re from. They say British food is terrible.”

“Eh? No! I don’t think so at all!”

Naturally, the conversation shifted to the real world.

“Korea! It’s a country I’ve always wanted to visit. K-POP! It’s so famous. Even my grad school friends loved it. Oh! And I lived near London, so—”

Ahh, that sweet wave of national pride. It had been a while. This was better.

“...I can’t accept that British food is bad. It’s just that tourists don’t go to the good places! Next time, if you come, I’ll definitely! Definitely! Take you to the best restaurants.”

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time.”

“How?”

“...”

The atmosphere I’d just lightened darkened again.

Had I ruined it?

“I think we’ll find it. A way for both of us to go home.”

Evelyn’s large eyes narrowed ever so slightly.