Mia stood at the front of her classroom, clutching a chalk stick like it was a weapon and staring down twelve pairs of very judgmental eyes. The children looked up at her with the unfazed confidence of tiny royalty. Most were under ten. Some were missing teeth. One was eating what she really hoped was a caramel and not a fossilized beetle. "Alright, class," Mia began, clearing her throat. "I'm Miss Greaves. I'll be teaching you Beast Safety and Beginner Theory this term. That means you'll learn how to act around tamed and wild beasts, basic first aid, and how not to poke anything that glows, hisses, or looks like it might explode."A small girl raised her hand. "What if it glows and purrs?""Still no," Mia said immediately. "Purring does not mean friendly in this world. It could be charging a laser."The class nodded solemnly. One boy wrote "NO PURRS = NO TOUCH" in bold letters on his slate.
It was the first official day of school, and Mia had spent the past week preparing like her life depended on it—because honestly, it kind of did. Lina's notes were thorough, and her lesson plans were impressively detailed. Mia had adapted them slightly—adding drawings, color-coded flashcards, and a few animated beast puppets Bolt Nut Brawler made using found materials and way too much glitter glue. Despite her nerves, things were going well. Surprisingly well. "Let's go over today's beast safety chant!" she said brightly. Together, the class shouted: "If it bites, don't fight! If it slimes, give it time! If it flies, shield your eyes!""And what do we never do?""Stick our fingers in the magic holes!"They all shouted it in unison. Even Mia had to pause and appreciate how chaotic and adorable this class was. And shockingly attentive. Or maybe they were just fascinated by the two beasts curled up in the corners of the classroom.
Professor Hootsworth sat atop a stack of encyclopedias, overseeing the lesson with one eye open, occasionally interjecting with, "Incorrect plural, young man," or "That is not how you conjugate 'bloop' when referring to aquatic beasts."Bolt Nut Brawler, meanwhile, had become the unofficial class mascot. He passed out snacks, led the morning warm-up stretches, and taught a few children how to do "beast flexes"—a form of motivational posing that had no actual benefits but made everyone feel stronger. "Remember, class!" Nut shouted, balancing on one paw. "Confidence is key! Posture equals power! Respect your fluff!""YES COACH NUT!" the kids shouted, mimicking his pose and toppling over like excited dominoes.
By lunchtime, Mia was exhausted—but glowing. Teaching, surprisingly, came naturally. And while she was still catching up on the technical side of beast cultivation, her enthusiasm made up for it. She had even started daily training in the mornings before school—guided meditation, spiritual grounding, and a series of breathing exercises that felt more like interpretive dance than martial arts, but the Professor assured her it was working. "You're beginning to stabilize your spiritual presence," he had said. "At this rate, you'll be ready to deepen your cultivation within a few months. Perhaps even attune to a second tier of elemental affinity.""Does that mean I'll be able to do cool magic?""More like you'll stop accidentally tripping over your own aura," he replied, sipping tea from a tiny porcelain cup he refused to explain the origin of.
That evening, after class was dismissed and her students scattered off with their baby beasts and lunch pails, Mia returned to her apartment feeling lighter. She dropped her bag by the door, kicked off her shoes, and flopped onto her bed. "I survived my first day," she mumbled into her pillow. "And nobody caught fire.""The bar is low," Hootsworth said from the windowsill. "But nonetheless, commendable.""You were great, Coach," Nut added, dragging a bag of dried fruit across the floor. "Also, I may have accidentally promised the kids a 'beast talent show' next week."Mia sat up slowly. "I'm sorry—you what?""It'll be fine!" he chirped. "We'll teach the students how to demonstrate safe beast behavior through interpretive dance and controlled chaos!"Mia stared at him. Then sighed. "Okay. Controlled chaos I can handle."
Later that night, she pulled out one of Lina's cultivation manuals and sat cross-legged on the floor, focusing on the glowing diagram inside. The pages vibrated slightly beneath her fingers, pulsing with soft, golden light. According to Hootsworth, this was the foundation of her own spiritual growth. Before she could safely bond with another beast, she had to strengthen the core threads that connected her energy to the world around her. "Think of your aura like a house," he'd explained. "Right now, you're living in a cozy cottage. Every beast you bond with adds another floor. Eventually, if you don't reinforce the foundation, the whole thing collapses.""So if I want to tame a dragon in the future…" she began."You'll need a castle for a soul," he finished.
Every night, she meditated. Focused. Reached inward. She could feel the threads slowly strengthening. Still fragile, but there. A faint silver glimmer in the dark. One day, they would shine like steel.
The next morning, Mia woke early to find a small crowd of children gathered outside the school gates. They were peeking through the bars, whispering excitedly and pointing at something in the garden. "What's going on?" Mia asked, adjusting her satchel. One of the older boys tugged her sleeve. "Miss Greaves! There's a jelly blob in the garden!""It's singing," another girl added in awe. "Or maybe wheezing. We're not sure."Mia followed their pointing fingers—and sure enough, in the middle of the garden, wobbling gently beside a flower bed, was a tiny translucent slime creature. It vibrated like jelly and emitted high-pitched squeaks that vaguely resembled off-key opera. "Professor?" she asked."A pitch slime," he said, flapping to her shoulder. "Completely harmless. It's drawn to places of strong emotional energy. Must've picked up on the joy from your classroom.""It sounds like a squeaky balloon and a kazoo had a baby," Mia said. "What do we do with it?""Feed it berries. Compliment its tone. It will leave on its own.""What if it wants to stay?""Then gods help your ears."
The students were enchanted. They sat around the slime during recess, drawing pictures of it and composing songs to sing back. Nut tried to teach it how to flex. It failed. But it wobbled happily. Mia let it stay for the day, promising the students it could be the "guest of honor" at their upcoming beast show—if it agreed not to screech during math time.
That afternoon, after classes ended and she waved goodbye to her students, Mia sat by the garden with the little slime, humming softly while it mimicked her notes with awkward, warbling enthusiasm. The sun dipped low, casting golden light over the school. Bolt Nut Brawler napped under a tree with a flower crown on his head. Professor Hootsworth scribbled corrections in a lesson scroll, muttering something about semicolon misuse. And Mia, for the first time since arriving in this world, felt something close to… belonging.
She was a beast tamer. A teacher. A transmigrated nobody living in a world of magic and mayhem. And somehow, despite the weirdness and the chaos, it was starting to feel like home.