Ascending the Demon Realm

Human teachers stopped corporal punishment ages ago. Why must we demons cling to this outdated tradition?

Sister Mei stroked her five coiling vine whips resembling spiky serpents, purring with lethal charm: "Let's not have any... deer-girl incidents in our class, hmm?"

Everyone promptly tucked their tails tightly, too terrified to even think about their usual hormonal impulses.

"Romance is permitted~ Just don't kill yourselves over it~ Or use suicide threats to manipulate affections~"

The group nodded like pecking chicks. Only I stood motionless in the front row, enduring waves of killing intent radiating from our instructor.

Sister Mei shot me an approving glance, retracting her whips. "Time for our Bureau field trip. Oh dear... your stress levels are about to skyrocket. You're aware capybaras and sloths get preferential treatment in civil service exams, yes?"

Exactly.

That's how I got into Todai...

Heh heh heh.

Allow me this private moment of smugness.

Tsk. So unfair to other demons.

But what can you do?

Ah... Is this the addictive thrill of privilege?

Why does even my internal monologue sound so obnoxious?

Come at me, haters!

While mentally gloating, I maintained perfect poker face. My classmates' despair deepened visibly.

"Assuming the Bureau selects three candidates," Sister Mei's voice turned glacial as her gaze locked onto me, "if our capybara and sloth students rank within top five without self-sabotage..."

Her murderous aura spiked. My guts twisted violently.

Yet my Oscar-worthy composure held firm under pressure.

"...that leaves one position for the rest of you." Her raised finger triggered muffled sobs from the group.

"To the Bureau we go~" Sister Mei's sing-song announcement plunged the class (except sloth-bro and me) into profound despondency.

The corridor's massive jade portals hummed with power, their crystalline surfaces etched with formidable sigils. Ordinary demons could never afford such long-distance teleportation arrays - another Todai privilege for nurturing future leaders.

As Sister Mei activated the gateway, a vast bureaucratic hive materialized. Harried officials zoomed past on wind-wheeled shoes, the sheer professional intensity crushing our naive spirits. We trailed our instructor like frightened ducklings through the swirling portal.

A hulking crocodile-man blocked our path, his shadow engulfing half the group. Crackling emerald patterns emerged across his humanoid face as he barked: "Ears out! Now!"

Fake fur tufts obediently sprouted from my scalp - thank you Mom and Dad's police-grade disguise kit. For full-body concealment, I relied on Mirage Veil: cutting-edge topology-infused camouflage serum that even high-level demons couldn't penetrate through. When magic fails, technology prevails.

"Call me Chief E Ji!" the crocodile roared after inspecting our compliance. "Not a single peep during tour! Literally!"

As we chorused acknowledgment, a goat official scurried over whispering about "celestial visitors." Sister Mei signaled ear-retraction. My artificial tufts vanished instantly.

"Change of plans!" Chief E Ji growled, storming forward. The urgent tension suggested heaven itself was about to crash our field trip.