Zero to Hero

"Thief! Drunkard!"

A loud scream ech

oed, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"I'm not a thief!" Arthur yelled after them. "I'm a teacher! I just wanted to ask if you needed a mentor! And was the 'drunkard' part really necessary? Couldn't you just stick to 'thief'?"

Remembering the Headmaster's ultimatum, Arthur muttered to himself, "That makes seventeen. If I don't get a single student to enroll today, I'll be packing my bags and getting kicked out of the academy."

Arthur didn't even belong to this world. In his past life, he was just a mild-mannered librarian. His last memory was a roaring fire, choking smoke, and then... darkness. When he woke up, he found himself in an entirely different universe.

This world was straight out of the fantasy novels he used to categorize. Cultivation, magic, and combat arts were everything here. Combat Instructors were revered like royalty. The strong ruled, and the weak obeyed—that was the absolute law of this world.

When he first transmigrated into this body, he thought he'd follow the classic trope: start as the academy's worst loser, fail to get a date, and then suddenly awaken a God-tier talent, slap some arrogant faces, and live a glorious life. But something had gone terribly wrong. He hadn't possessed a student; he had accidentally overwritten a teacher.

And not just any teacher—the absolute worst teacher in the entire academy!

While other instructors had classrooms so packed that students had to stand in the hallways, Arthur's classroom was painfully empty. Not only did no one want to take his class, but they also actively called him a thief and a drunk. Some just took one look at him, muttered "creep," and ran for their lives.

To be fair, the original owner of this body had thoroughly ruined his own reputation. He was the weakest instructor on staff and had absolutely zero eye for talent. Worse, he once gave a student such horrendous advice that the poor kid suffered a severe cultivation deviation, crippling his foundational skills and failing his exams.

It was like going to a doctor for a cold and ending up in the morgue because of the prescription. After that incident, the original Arthur's reputation was dragged through the mud. Students avoided him like the plague, terrified they'd end up like his last disciple.

Because of this disastrous track record, he hadn't recruited a single student last year. In the Annual Instructor Evaluations, Arthur ranked dead last. He was the first teacher in the academy's history to score in the negatives. The humiliation drove the original Arthur into a severe depression.

He tried to drink himself to death, and well, he succeeded—which was exactly when our librarian Arthur took over his body.

As the new academic year began, the academy handed him a final notice: *"If you fail to recruit even one student for your class this year, your employment will be terminated immediately."*

Today alone, seventeen students had walked past his classroom. The moment they saw his nameplate, they bolted like kids running from a monster.

"I have to convince at least one of them to join! But how?"

Just as he was racking his brain for a desperate scheme, a young girl tentatively peeked through the doorway. She looked a bit nervous.

"Excuse me... is this Professor Sterling's class?"

She looked decent. Her clothes suggested she came from a wealthy, respectable family, and her tone was incredibly polite.

Professor Sterling was the academy's superstar instructor. His classes were so packed you couldn't find a place to drop a pin, yet he was always in demand. Students traveled from neighboring cities just to attend his lectures.

"Professor Sterling's class?" Arthur echoed. "Ah! Sure, I can take you to his class."

Seeing a potential target—ahem, student—standing right in his classroom, Arthur's mind raced. *"I have to do something. I need to trick... I mean, convince this girl to become my disciple, no matter what."*

He dug deep into his librarian brain, recalling every manipulative trope he had ever read. He leaned back in his chair, adopting what he hoped was an aura of profound wisdom, and asked, "So, you wish to become Professor Sterling's disciple?"

The girl nodded eagerly.

"Why?" Arthur challenged.

"I heard he's the best instructor in the academy," she replied with deep respect. "All his students are brilliant, and just getting accepted into his class is considered a massive achievement."

"Rumors are often just echoes of the truth, not the truth itself," Arthur said smoothly. "Instructors are like shoes. Just because a pair is the most expensive doesn't mean it's the right fit for your feet. What matters is whether the shoe actually fits you. It doesn't matter how famous an instructor is or how brilliant their teaching methods are. If their style conflicts with your inherent technique, you won't progress—in fact, you might ruin your foundation completely. On the other hand, if you find an instructor who may not be famous, but whose philosophy perfectly aligns with your technique, you will thrive. You'll correct your flaws quickly and achieve top grades effortlessly."

"Oh... I think I've heard my older brother say something similar!" The girl looked thoughtful, clearly digesting Arthur's words.

But then her brow furrowed in confusion. "But... I don't know what kind of technique suits me best."

Arthur saw the hook setting in. He just needed to keep feeding her philosophical nonsense until she signed the enrollment form. He flashed a smile that he hoped looked benevolent and not like a scam artist's

.

Taking a deep, dramatic breath, he said, "Perhaps destiny guided you to my door today. Let's do this: I am also an instructor here. Let me assess your aptitude, your technique, and your temperament. I will help you figure out exactly what kind of mentor you need."

The girl's eyes lit up. "Really, sir? You'd do that for me?"

She hadn't expected a random teacher she just bumped into to be so helpful and kind.

Masking his inner desperation with a look of bored expertise, Arthur waved his hand. "Alright. Show me a sample of your combat forms."

"Yes, sir!"

*Hiyah!*

In an instant, the girl threw a punch that sent a ripple of energy through the room. As she transitioned through her combat stances, spiritual energy began to swirl around her. Instead of dissipating, the energy clung tightly to her form, a clear sign of an incredibly solid foundation. Her power was strong, yet refined. She just needed a little more polishing.

When she finished, Arthur nodded with the solemn approval of a grandmaster. "Excellent. I can see your foundational knowledge is impeccable, and your natural talent is extraordinary. It's clear you've trained ruthlessly. Geniuses like you are rare these days. You just need the right master to chisel away the rough edges."

Like a fortune teller setting a cold-reading trap, he spoke in broad, flattering terms. He wanted her to hear exactly what she hoped to hear so she would think his assessment was pinpoint accurate.

"Particularly, there is an immense, hidden power in your legs. Your stances are rooted like an ancient oak, yet your movements are as explosive as a tidal wave. If you continue to cultivate this specific strength, your future is limitless."

The girl stopped and looked at Arthur with deep suspicion. "Sir... my leg is injured. The academy doctors told me my right leg is permanently crippled."

*Crap. Busted,* Arthur panicked internally.

But a scammer never backs down. Doubling down with sheer audacity, he scoffed. "Did you really think I couldn't see that? I noticed it the moment you shifted your weight in the first stance! Why do you think I brought it up? As the ancient proverb goes: *'True rebirth only comes after utter destruction.'* Because of this injury, you have inadvertently stumbled upon a rare opportunity—a path closed to ordinary cultivators! If you can harness this 'crippled' state properly, your injured leg will become your ultimate weapon! Your peers won't even comprehend how you surpass them!"

Arthur was talking entirely out of his ass. If spouting poetic nonsense could get her to sign the paper, he'd recite the whole dictionary. Right now, survival was the only goal.

The girl's eyes widened in awe, all suspicion vanishing. "An opportunity? Sir, what kind of opportunity?"

Ever since her injury, she had lived in despair, believing she could never become a formidable combat artist. She had lost all faith in herself. How could she have known her darkest tragedy was actually a hidden blessing?

Arthur kept spinning the web. "Because of this unique condition, you will achieve breakthroughs others can only dream of. Leaving your peers in the dust will be effortless. However..."

The thought of becoming the top student made her blush with excitement. "However... what, sir?"

Arthur sighed heavily, looking thoroughly melancholic. "However... instructors capable of guiding a student through such a delicate and unorthodox path are incredibly rare. In this entire academy, including myself, there are only three. The other two went into secluded meditation three years ago and stopped accepting disciples. So, even writing you a recommendation letter to them would be useless."

"They stopped accepting disciples?" The girl's momentary hope shattered, her shoulders slumping in disappointment.

Then, a sudden realization hit her. "Wait... they aren't taking students, but sir... *you* are, right?"

"I am," Arthur said calmly. "But there is a catch. As you can see, I care nothing for fame, glory, or bustling classrooms. I prefer the quiet. And frankly, I don't have the time to waste."

He hardened his expression, looking stern and unyielding. "I refuse to take on a student unless they are a true, unpolished diamond. I only accept those who possess undeniable, raw potential."

Before Arthur could even finish his sentence, the girl bowed deeply, clasping her hands together. "I know you are a hidden master, sir! Please, accept me as your disciple! I promise I will train with my life on the line and never bring shame to your name!"

Arthur was doing cartwheels of joy in his mind, but outwardly, he frowned, looking deeply conflicted. "It seems destiny has indeed brought us together... but as you can see, I value my peace and quiet."

Sensing his hesitation, the girl quickly added, "I will never disturb you unnecessarily, Master! I will focus solely on my training and only seek your guidance when absolutely vital!"

Arthur pushed a little more. "Because I keep a small circle of students, I don't receive the same lavish funding and resources from the academy as the mainstream instructors. And... the other students might mock you for choosing me."

The girl hesitated for a second. "No resources...? But I've always been told that resources are the most important part of training."

She knew the academy distributed training resources based on an instructor's student count and their overall performance. Without resources, progress would be agonizingly slow.

"Hahaha!" Arthur let out a hearty, booming laugh. "I was merely testing your resolve! Since you have made your decision and shown such sincere respect in taking me as your master... very well. I shall accept you as my disciple."

Seeing a flicker of doubt return to her eyes, he didn't give her a second to overthink. He slammed a piece of paper onto the desk.

"Your academy ID! Now!"

"U-Uh... right now? So fast...?"

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