# Winter is the Season for Kimjang
Ivan was generally a deep and warm-hearted person, but when it came to self-objectification, he was an exceptionally cold-blooded man.
Therefore, he knew he wasn't a good teacher. He could never teach students like Enrique did.
"Kill... me...!!"
"Don't say such things. You won't die."
"You monster...!! I want to... cancel my enrollment...!!"
"Felix von Esvil, second son of Count Esvil of Tilles, residing at 21 Royal District 3. Three maids, one butler, one attendant, two horses, sends letters to his hometown once a week, addressed to a commoner girl named Irilda in Count Esvil's territory. Am I correct?"
"...Eek?!"
"There's no early dismissal in my class. So focus."
Ivan was someone who had directly experienced the advanced educational curriculum of the 21st century. And 21st century South Korea was a developed country that implemented modern universal education.
Enrique's method was closer to an apprenticeship system. Selecting disciples carefully and pouring all her knowledge into them with utmost sincerity.
But universal education wasn't like that. The quality of students wasn't important. The goal was to raise the average level of all students through sufficient education.
South Korea operated a social security system called "compulsory education." It meant providing equal educational opportunities to all students regardless of their wishes.
He had already sent sufficient warnings through orientation. It was an incredibly kind declaration of war by his standards. (The Annihilation Squad executes without declarations of war.)
So students who enrolled in his class had essentially signed up to bear all risks that might occur. An excellent attitude toward learning.
Ivan decided to become a teacher who provided educational opportunities to passionate students who wanted to learn. Since he had already memorized all the students' personal information, it wasn't a difficult task.
Humans are imaginative creatures, often "misinterpreting" trivial "truths" as threats.
From Jean-Jacques Rousseau to Pestalozzi, the brilliant educational philosophy of the 21st century would illuminate this underdeveloped pre-modern society.
"Aaaah—!! My arm, my aaaarm—!!"
"Shh, screaming provides no help for survival. Recall your 'Human Structure and Magic' class and respond accordingly. Remember the emergency treatment for severed arm nerves and reconnect them."
"Aaaaargh—!!"
"Your nerves aren't severed. They're merely paralyzed, and the pain you're feeling is just phantom pain. Focus, slowly."
Ivan's teaching method had already proven its usefulness multiple times. Mainly when training new recruits on the battlefield.
Standardizing performance regardless of individual talent—this spirit of "compulsory education" isn't much different from "military training" if you think about it differently.
At least in that field, he was better than Enrique. No, he prided himself on not falling behind anyone in this other world. That's how good he was at self-objectification.
"Grrrk—."
"It's broken. Patricia. Please."
"I really can't bear to watch this... I didn't become the Theology Department head to see such things... If it weren't for my brother's request, I'd have no reason to do this! Do I look like a school nurse to you?!"
"You look like a Saintess."
"...!!"
After his brief reply, Ivan looked around. About fifty students had collapsed in uniquely individual postures.
It's fine. Survival skills had just begun. These students would definitely receive excellent education. There was no F in his class.
However, if there was one unpleasant point, just one:
If Ivan's teaching method had become somewhat—very slightly—rougher, it was because even Yu-jin's Status Window couldn't detect the "Academy demon spy."
'Was my prediction wrong?'
Ivan briefly considered this before completely erasing it from his mind. That couldn't be possible.
Since the "Academy Festival Attack" led by Pavel, Pritzenkaya's internal intelligence network had been deployed more densely than ever in history. Because the rebel leader was on their side, they could address all previously known vulnerabilities.
Therefore, according to "common sense in this world," there should be no more threats in this city. Unless the Demon King or the Seven Dragon Generals descended directly.
The thief from the Hero Party was handling the back alley, the Counter-Intelligence Command held the internal intelligence network tightly, the Crown Prince faction had collapsed, and all administrative departments pledged loyalty to the Princess.
Since the alliance with the dwarves, the northern military was also favorable to the Princess. The rewards they were spoon-fed were substantial.
In this situation, who could possibly send spies to Pritzenkaya? That was the "common sense of the otherworld inhabitants."
Of course, that wasn't "modern people's common sense." There must be spies in the Academy.
The children of the Hero Party members, whom all potential hostile nations would drool over, gathered in one place. Despite their different majors.
There were three such classes. Moreover, they were elective liberal arts courses unrelated to majors, making infiltration easy. Under these conditions, spies must have entered—that would be normal.
'If they're all human, it means there's someone among the humans who's in league with the demon race.'
And since they couldn't be from Krasilov, excluding them...
Ivan sighed as he scanned the foreign nobles among the students. There were at least twenty suspicious ones. This wouldn't be easy.
"Mister!!"
As he was leaving after class, a foreign noble ran toward him. Soon, other foreign nobles surrounded him.
Isabelle looked up at Ivan with blazing eyes. With the same look from the past era when heroes formed parties to defeat the Demon King.
The Hero Party members with burning determination surrounded Ivan. Ivan slowly scanned the group.
"Professor."
"What...?"
"Use proper titles at school."
It could send the wrong signal to other students that he was "showing favoritism to certain students." This violates the educational philosophy of universal education.
Hearing Ivan's words, Isabelle snorted and replied.
"What's with the formality between us!"
"Between us, indeed."
Like all professors in the world, Ivan remembers students to whom he gave A+. Especially if that student wrote that it was the worst class ever in the course evaluation despite receiving an A+.
Ivan was a warm-hearted person, so he wasn't easily hurt by such things. He was just being rational. He replied gruffly with rationality.
"So what's the matter?"
"What are you doing this evening?"
"Preparing for class."
"Nothing else? You don't need to prepare anything anyway. You're just doing the same thing to them that you did to us!"
Isabelle laughed haughtily and held her head high.
"Let's all have dinner at our house tonight! Okay?"
"That's not possible."
Ivan was a frugal person, so he wouldn't extort gifts from students approaching him for grades. That would violate the principles of universal education...
"Even if the dinner menu is kimchi fried rice?"
"..."
The Counter-Intelligence Command was a curious group, so they made it a principle to satisfy their curiosity when it arose.
Ivan couldn't hide his intense curiosity at the word from Isabelle's mouth and ended up nodding.
The smell.
"Enjoy your meal!"
"Wait, why does this look delicious?"
"What did you do? Is this cabbage the same as that time?"
"Wow, amazing. This is a completely different dish?"
A familiar smell.
-Clatter.
Ivan carefully picked up a spoon. It felt strange. Just touching tableware felt unfamiliar. He usually gulped down porridge hastily cooked in a lunch box or munched on nutrition bars as substitutes for meals.
Basically, meals were nothing more than supplying necessary nutrients. Not much different from basic weapon maintenance to maintain bodily performance.
-Slurp.
The bubbling stew, chunks of meat and potatoes colliding with the spoon, gently crumbling. A dish cooked with care and dedication for a long time.
Ivan unconsciously twitched his nose as he smelled the steaming stew in his bowl.
No matter who he was, he wasn't ignorant of food's taste. No matter how unimportant it was, he could still distinguish flavors.
However, taste preferences are ultimately just a kind of nostalgic stimulation created by learned environment and universal human taste. And in this world, there existed nothing to stimulate his nostalgia.
So,
-Slurp.
The hot, textured swallow of stew. The sensation of well-boiled brisket crumbling softly on the tip of his tongue. Vegetables sautéed well enough to release their sweetness.
The spicy seasoning placed on top, and the lime mixed appropriately to balance the acidity, down to the final taste of sour cream.
Though somewhat modified, this was, to some extent...
"How is it?"
Isabelle was looking at him with sparkling eyes. Folding her hands on her chest, proudly. But at the same time, carefully with anxious eyes.
There was a moment of silence. Ivan silently moved his tongue to swallow the remaining food in his mouth cleanly.
Kim Seon-woo bowed his head.
"It's delicious."
Snow fell outside the window. Because Krasilov's season was always winter. Unlike the four seasons of other countries, Krasilov always had only winter.
Ivan moved his spoon again to take a large scoop of stew. Mechanically, without stopping, continuously.
Finally, clatter, the tip of the spoon slightly scraped the bottom of the bowl.
"Would you like more? I made plenty."
"If possible."
"Anytime. As much as you want."
Isabelle rose from her seat with a warm smile. Her footsteps heading to the kitchen were filled with pleasant energy.
Slow and gentle conversation spread across the table.
The Hero Party and the Transmigrators. This completely mismatched combination. The "protagonists."
Different from him, the main characters who would lead this generation's story.
These kids continued their meal, each making silly jokes, playfully grumbling, and grinning at each other.
Ivan quietly looked out the window amidst them.
'This is unexpected.'
Kim Seon-woo whispered quietly. Ivan briefly agreed. It was unexpected.
It wasn't common sense for him to feel nostalgia in this underdeveloped world.
But sometimes, things that weren't common sense weren't so bad.
"It's nice."
Ivan rarely muttered in a soft voice, quietly looking at the first snow outside the window.
He never thought the cloudy sky with falling snow would remind him of something other than the northern front.
"Did Uncle just...?"
"Did my brother just say it's... nice...?"
"I didn't know he could say such things!"
"Is this a glimpse of the Hero's talent...?"
From the bustling, lively table, Ivan looked down at the new bowl of stew that appeared before him.
Isabelle carefully pushed the bowl toward him and smiled brightly.
"Eat a lot!"
Ivan smiled back.
Side ep. Winter is the Season for Kimjang.