Xyrin Empire-Chapter 653: Misaka Rules the World

After breakfast, I informed my family and set out to attend what might be the most brutal parent-teacher meeting in history.

It was one of those meetings where you could guess how absurd the conversations would get just by hearing about it. As soon as the bunch of unscrupulous beauties at home got wind of this event, they all praised the Military Academy’s teachers as geniuses. Lilina even made the farewell atmosphere as dismal as if we were by the Yishui River, showing just how disloyal this guy could be.

But anyway, since I had accepted the invitation, I had no choice but to go.

Parent-teacher meetings, everyone knows about those, right?

Well, I have vivid memories of them. During my own years in elementary and middle school, this event accompanied a family through many years of school life and left an indelible impression on me: because I had no parents to call upon.

Back then, my only relative was my big sister, a girl only four or five years older than myself. She was still a student herself that year, so every parent-teacher meeting put a lot of pressure on us both. My big sister, who was in high school at the time, had to take leave and run halfway across the school to the elementary division to meet with my teacher—it could have even been her homeroom teacher from a few semesters ago. I, on the other hand, had to endure being the object of all the attention this brought, making it a tough period. Even now, thinking back on it feels a little sour. But whenever Big Sister and I talked about those days, we would both have a good laugh about it: those bitter memories had somehow, without us noticing, become something precious.

In short, the parent-teacher meeting, something very ordinary to others, held a different significance for me.

So, when I received the parent-teacher meeting invitation sent by Sister Misaka through a Mercury Lamp doll, I simply sighed at the annoyance and decided to take it seriously.

Because those girls were just like me, without parents.

Being mass-produced clones, living beings that could be created in batches with the push of a button, the Sister Misakas, even though they had thousands of sisters, did not have a single one who could attend a parent-teacher meeting for them. A subtle psychological resonance made me feel that no matter which idiot instructor came up with this annoying idea of a parent-teacher meeting, I should personally make an appearance. Even if it was just to make the Sister Misakas feel some familial concern.

...at least, that’s what I believed until I walked up to the gates of the Imperial Military Academy.

"This... This is so damn annoying!"

Looking at the notice at the gate, I let out a long sigh to the heavens.

To welcome the upcoming Carnival, the entire school was working together to prepare for the festivities, so an invitation was extended to students’ parents to come to the school and meet with the teachers. The scope of this parent-teacher meeting: all junior high classes, et cetera omitted.

The entire junior high division, more than ten thousand Sister Misakas all in junior high! At first, I thought some brain-dead homeroom teacher at the Academy had a whimsical thought to have their Sister Misakas call their parents. Now it seems, could it be that a member of the Academy Council had a brain-dead moment?!

So, today’s parent-teacher meeting was arranged just for me!

I could already imagine the following scenes:

During the parent-teacher meeting, as the teacher starts announcing the students’ scores, they begin calling names, "Will the parent of Misaka 10086 please come to the stage to say a few words?"

I’d dash to the stage.

"Will the parent of Misaka 10031 come to receive the award certificate?"

I’d dash to the stage.

"Will the parent of Misaka 12580 please share your educational experience?"

I’d dash to the stage.

"Could the guardian of student Misaka 12345 please..."

So apparently, my trip was just about sprinting and squats!

"Ah! It’s Brother! Misaka 10031, seeing the troubled Brother, immediately greeted him cheerfully."

The sudden cry from behind snapped me out of a state of dizzying frustration, and as I turned my head, I immediately saw the tea-haired girl in winter school uniform standing less than ten meters behind me, carrying her school bag, looking at me with an exuberant expression.

"Oh, Misaka," I greeted the first Sister Misaka I had ever met, listlessly, "I’m here for the parent-teacher conference..."

"Yes, everyone is waiting! This way, Brother!" said Misaka 10031, cheerfully, having been the first to receive Brother.

The girl excitedly ran over and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the depths of the academy.

As for me, now a living parabola of confusion, I could only reflexively scramble my legs, being towed by Sister Misaka towards the junior high auditorium.

It must be said, the Empire knows how to build big things; even a junior high auditorium is of such a brutal scale. The circular auditorium that Misaka took me to could reportedly accommodate up to twenty thousand people for a meeting without any trouble. This place is officially a junior high auditorium but come on, it’s practically the Congress!

Although I had anticipated that this parent-teacher conference would be a brutal affair, when I actually saw the scene before me, I felt the corners of my eyes twitching uncontrollably.

Can you imagine how brutal it is to have a parent conference with thousands of teachers on the stage, tens of thousands of students in the student area, and only one person in the parent section?

Turning my head to look at the more than ten thousand Sister Misakas behind me, neat and tidy as if ctrl+c then ctrl+v had been used, then looking at the variously distorted faces of the teacher team not far in front, and finally the empty space beside me, I decided it was better to speak up: "So, did any of you foresee this spectacle?"

The thousand or so teachers on the stage were stunned, then turned their heads away.

"Over a thousand of you and not one of you had a clue?!"

I stood up in protest at that moment, pointing at the group in front of me, who were now pretending to be detached, and yelled.

I suppose I’m the only parent in the world who would dare to shout at teachers in a parent-teacher conference: these guys really had it coming!

Damn it, how did this situation, resembling a UN tribunal for class-A war criminals, come to be?

"Well, actually, some did think of it," Medea, sitting in the homeroom teacher area, said awkwardly as she ran her fingers through her hair, her elf-like pointed ears twitching – a sign of her nervousness. "But the Misakas really wanted to have a parent conference, and though we are teachers, we couldn’t stand against the wishes of your ten thousand sisters. We are very sorry..."

As Medea spoke, the surrounding teachers also showed embarrassed expressions, whether they were Imperial instructors, Heroic Spirit teachers, or foreign teachers from other worlds, each one seemed a bit shamefaced.

But something clicked in my mind, and I turned my head to look back at the battalion of Sister Misakas.

They wanted a parent conference? Why?

Because they wanted to get my attention? To act affectionately? To show that they too had family? Or just hoping to experience a normal girl’s school life this way?

I didn’t know what these girls, who were gradually developing rich emotions, were thinking, but since it was their wish, I should cooperate...

This is absolutely impossible to coordinate! Thousands of teachers, tens of thousands of students, and one parent - how on earth do you plan on conducting this parent-teacher conference?! If that’s the case, why didn’t you just tell me there was an issue and to come to meet the teachers at school? Why put on this grandiose parent-teacher conference spectacle? What the hell is the point?

Not only did I have this exclamation, but so did the thousands of teachers on the stage. The majority of them were Imperial Officers moonlighting as academy instructors, and making these guys hold a parent-teacher conference with the Imperial Leader was definitely harder than killing them. The rest were foreign teachers gathered from all over the world and from different eras; these Heroic Emperors definitely didn’t have teaching credentials. They don’t even know what a normal parent-teacher conference looks like, so how can you expect them to handle this monstrous version?

Therefore, the venue quickly became the expected chaotic mess. Heroic Spirits lost interest in minutes, pulled out bottles of alcohol, or playing cards to sneak some leisure time. Imperial instructors took out tactical maps, discussing in hushed tones whether next year’s internship should involve having the Misakas conquer certain worlds. The ten thousand or so Sister Misakas started whispering to each other, sharing their impressions of their first parent-teacher conference. As for me, I was already gathering information from Medea’s side.

"So, it’s still about the carnival performance?"

Medea nodded, "Indeed, these children are working very hard to catch your attention during the carnival, but in front of the Heroic teams from various worlds, a bunch of students no matter how hard they try are just too ordinary. So the Misakas came up with many strange and peculiar ideas. They wanted you to come today to preview these creative plans—by the way, the student council is also entirely made up of Misakas."

The Misakas ruling the world?

After a slight rant, I looked over to the Misakas who were starting to group up, "Are they preparing for a performance?"

"Yes, the first act is a ten-thousand-people chorus of ’only my railgun’, followed by a ten-thousand-people chorus of ’Fusion Core Meltdown’, and then a ten-thousand-people chorus of ’Disappearance of Hatsune Miku’..."

Fuck me... This is just blatantly flaunting your synchronization rate, my sisters! You dare to perform a ten-thousand-people chorus of ’Disappearance of Hatsune Miku’, something humans can’t even sing!

But I can’t disappoint my sisters’ feelings. Listening to the programs they’ve worked so hard to prepare for me actually isn’t too bad... I guess.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before I regretted it: In the following hour... it was hell at a beat of 245 x 9968 per minute. After the brutal chorus ended, my whole being was resonating.

There was a pile of people slumped over on the stage; I reckon the junior high section of the Military Academy is going to have a long holiday starting tomorrow.

The ferocious melody seemed still to echo in the smoggy auditorium. The buzzing in my brain made everything I saw double. Not knowing when, I had already collapsed onto the table at the main podium, next to Medusa who mumbled to herself, the purple-haired riding instructor’s eyes spinning with spirals, "Can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything at all..."

"I’ve decided!" I suddenly slammed the table and stood up, swaying in the air for a moment before barely managing not to fall, "This act has to be kept!"

"Eh?" Medea, whom I startled, immediately widened her eyes. The square pupils were filled with terror—was her boss too traumatized?

"Damn it, we can’t just suffer by ourselves. Tie up anyone causing trouble at the carnival and make them listen to these songs!"

To be fair, ’Disappearance of Hatsune Miku’ isn’t bad to listen to, and a beat of 245 per minute isn’t torture. But when all of this is multiplied by ten thousand, it turns into the thundering hell. You can’t imagine how terrifying it feels when the entire Misaka Army starts singing at once, pushing the roaring sound waves that vibrated back and forth over two hundred times a minute at you—my conscience, just look at that classic desolate silhouette of Altoria standing at the edge of the podium with her Holy Sword... Oh, she’s fallen off.

"Umm, okay, makes sense," Medusa rubbed her forehead and took out a notebook, "Of course, the carnival goes on for many days. These choral pieces are just one of the programs. During the carnival, the Imperial Military Academy will also hold an Academy Festival that lasts the entire festival. It seems that festivals like these are very important school activities in the Misakas’ memories. Maybe this could become a tradition for the Military Academy. It can also be considered our cultural exhibition. Ugh, my head... That’s it. The Misakas wanted you to take a look at these things."

My sisters really worked hard to prove themselves, although the means are quite brutal. But I believe, anyone who’s been through the 245 BPM initiation will definitely remember these sisters with off-the-charts synchronization rates.

The so-called parent-teacher conference turned into the Misakas’ dress rehearsal in the end. But I didn’t have any expectations for this "parent-teacher conference" from the start. Naturally, it’s okay for the sisters to do whatever makes them happy. After tormenting myself for more than two hours, I finally dragged my swaying steps away from the Military Academy.

The moment I saw the blue sky and white clouds outside, I truly felt reborn.

...But as I was too busy looking at the sky, I collided with a petite figure at the school gate.

"Ah!" Along with a somewhat familiar scream, in my peripheral vision, a short-haired girl tumbled backwards awkwardly. Two big words immediately flashed in my brain: Cliché!

What a melodramatic plot twist!

But the expected fan service scene failed to occur. Even before I could reach out to help, the girl opposite me was steadied by a figure that suddenly appeared behind her, accompanied by an exaggerated cry of surprise, "Big Sister!"

Ohhh! Writing Black, pronounced pervert! With that iconic voice, I didn’t even need to see her face to know who the fleeting twin ponytails belonged to!

"Mikoto? Black?" I looked at the two girls in front of me, slightly surprised. The girl with tea-colored short hair, needless to say, was Misaka Mikoto, who had been seen by Sister Misaka thousands of times today, now appearing as the collective big sister figure to the Misaka sisters. Standing beside her, glaring angrily, was the flat-chested twin ponytails... sorry, "flat-chested" just slipped out—that of course is our ultimate yuri enthusiast, who is forever perverse and never surpassed, Bai Jing Heizi.

However, her attitude towards me wasn’t very friendly at the moment, "Damn it! To think you’d use such an ancient trick to knock Big Sister down and take advantage of her! The privilege of knocking Big Sister down at the corner of the street and then shamelessly admiring the purity of a girl’s panties and Big Sister’s adorably blushing cheeks should be an exclusive right exclusive right right right... Wahh!"

A bolt of lightning flashed by, and peace returned to the world.

So, Black, you’re only on stage for seven seconds and uttering just four or five lines today? Are you the legendary ’three-shot bento girl’?

"Black... Black isn’t dead yet... Black can still fight..."

The twin ponytailed girl who had turned into a charred figure on the ground was desperately raising one hand, sending me a look for help—having just suffered a 100,000-volt shock, she dared not to reach out to Misaka again, "Perverted brother, save me..."

You said two extra words, idiot!

Without hesitation, I picked up the petite Bai Jing student, aimed at the nearby trash can, and threw!

I had practiced this move well with Lilina, even though Bai Jing’s height was much taller than that flat-chested unfortunate soul who took decades to reach one meter. The slim twin ponytails girl was easy to throw, not affecting accuracy at all, look, swoosh, the annoying mosaic known as Black was... planted into the flower bed. freēwēbnovel.com

"Black isn’t going to die, right?"

A worried voice sounded from behind us, and without turning our heads, Misaka Mikoto and I both said, "That kind of pervert, she won’t die!"

After saying that, I remembered to turn my head to look. As expected, the energetic girl with black straight hair in her winter school uniform stood behind us. Beside her, a flower pot was staring with amazement at the grandeur of the super academy.

Sorry, Chichun, but I always believed that the flower pot is your true form, just as I believe that Taville’s soul resides in her glasses.

"No matter how many times I see it, it feels like a very... luxurious school, wow!" Chichun Shili’s face was filled with excitement. The grandeur of the Imperial Military Academy was something this girl—who had always longed for the life of a rich miss—admired tremendously. Here it boasted educational buildings that could serve as the Congress Building on Earth, an arcane teaching area like a giant castle built by the world’s Magic Masters, a clubhouse for the lightweight warship flight interest groups (if the entire space command center and modular warship platform also count as a clubhouse), and ever since a purple long-haired Heroic Spirit started the "Riding Skill Supplementary Class," we even opened a racecourse behind the junior high section... For a school to reach such a scale, it was something the Academy City couldn’t even compare to.

"If I could study here, go inside that castle to learn magic; it would be like a dream! Maybe I could even befriend a graceful vampire and sip black tea under the moonlight..." The girl named Chichun Shili had completely succumbed to her fantasies, "The luxurious life of a Miss" began to assail her high-speed quad-core brain hidden behind the flower pot, and she ignored me even though I was trying to greet her.

"Well, Chichun is still the same," Zuotian Tsuruya stuck out her tongue cutely at me, then turned around with the swiftness of a thunderclap to perform her signature, "I flip! Wow, cute blue and white today."

The skirt of the flower pot girl fluttered and Zuotian Tsuruya, with her level 6 updraft, was domineering at that moment. To perform a skirt flip on her friend in front of everyone, especially in front of a man. Did Zuotian really not consider me an outsider, or had the black-haired girl’s response to skirt flipping become so instinctive that she didn’t even bother to check her surroundings?

Feeling the cool breeze, Chichun stiffened for a moment, then turned her head to give me a red-faced, stiff-necked glance, and the flowers on her head instantly bloomed: catalyzed by the heat!

"Wuaah! Zuotian, how... how could you do this in front of so many people..."

"Ha, looks like it’s pretty lively here," another voice joined the playful noise of the girls, coming from a short distance away. The new arrival was a red-haired bad-boy Priest and next to him, the Archbishop, Lola Stewart. (To be continued. If you like this work, please visit Qidian (qidian.com) to cast your recommendation votes and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)

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