I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 481 Punishment

Dante leaned back slightly, tapping a finger once against the desk. "I have heard," he said calmly, "that you have been... very talkative lately."

Boo’s glow flickered.

"...Talkative?" he repeated weakly.

"I have also heard," Dante continued, his voice cool and measured, "that you have been spreading information about me."

Boo’s eyes widened.

"...Information?" he echoed.

Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

"About my private habits."

A pause.

"My reputation."

Another pause.

"And apparently... my cactus."

Boo gasped, clutching his chest. "THAT WAS CONFIDENTIAL GOSSIP— I mean— observational research—!"

Dante’s shadows stirred like amused serpents.

Boo floated backward an inch, shedding nervous ghostly sparkles.

"I... I was just sharing fun facts," he said anxiously. "For bonding. For friendship. For class morale."

Dante’s gaze sharpened.

"You told Alina that I fart."

Boo slapped both hands over his mouth in horror.

Then Dante leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into something quieter and more dangerous.

"You also told her," he said evenly, "that I plan to marry ninety-nine wives."

Boo slowly peeked through his fingers.

"...That one was theoretical," he muttered.

Dante stared.

Boo shrank in mid-air.

"...Okay, that one was imaginary."

Dante closed his eyes briefly, as if resisting the urge to summon lightning, shadows, or an ancient curse specifically designed for mischievous ghosts.

"Boo," he said slowly, "do you understand what consequences are?"

Boo nodded rapidly. "Yes! Yes! Consequences are when Teacher takes away stickers and Felix judges me silently."

"...You are on thin air," Dante muttered.

Boo straightened, trying to regain some dignity.

"I promise," he said sincerely, "I will only spread approved gossip from now on."

Dante looked unimpressed.

"However," Boo added quickly, eyes lighting up again, "my holiday story is very spooky and educational and includes heroic sacrifice and upgraded fashion!"

Dante paused.

"...Five minutes," he said flatly.

Boo brightened instantly.

"YAYYYY—" He caught himself, lowering his voice. "...Thank you, Principal."

With dramatic flair, he began:

"So first of all, my ghost tower got sponsored by someone very rich and mysterious, and I got a wardrobe upgrade, and then I went on a mission to scare evil humans, but they were more scared of paperwork than ghosts—"

Dante leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple as Boo happily launched into a wildly exaggerated, chaotic holiday story.

Outside the office, the old lady listened faintly, smiling to herself.

Inside, Boo was absolutely convinced he was surviving the scariest meeting of his life.

Boo clapped his hands together dramatically.

"Sir, you heard my legendary holiday story, so... can I leave nowww?" he asked, already turning around mid-air as if preparing a heroic exit.

"No."

The single word hit him like a cold gust of doom.

Boo slowly turned back.

Dante had stood up from his chair, his tall figure casting a long shadow across the office. His expression remained calm and cold, but a faint flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes—so subtle that only someone very observant would notice.

"Who told you," Dante said flatly, "that you are leaving?"

Boo’s glow flickered like a dying candle. "...I assumed?"

"I still need to punish you," Dante continued coolly.

Boo gasped, clutching his chest with both hands.

"P–punishment?! But whyyyyy?" he cried, floating backward in panic. "I am an innocent, upgraded, hardworking ghost!"

Dante thought this ghost was unbelievably hard to handle—a dramatic little menace who had already forgotten why he had been called here in the first place.

"Because," Dante replied, stepping forward, "you have been spreading misinformation about me."

Boo froze.

"...Misinformation?" he echoed weakly. "I thought it was information gossip, and we were done with that part," Boo said, confused.

"You told Miss Alina," Dante said, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes, "that I snore. That I fart. That I plan to marry ninety-nine wives. And that I talk to a cactus. That is unacceptable."

Boo blinked.

Then he wiggled his brows smugly, clearly enjoying himself far too much for someone standing in front of the Shadow Lord Principal.

"So you’re angry because I told Teacher?" he teased, floating lazily in the air with a tiny smirk. "Aww, sir, you should be proud. I am building your legendary image."

Dante’s gaze narrowed, cold and sharp.

"Legendary?" he repeated flatly.

"Yes," Boo nodded confidently. "A mysterious principal who snores like a thunder beast, farts like a volcanic eruption, talks to houseplants, and secretly plans to marry ninety-nine wives. Very powerful. Very iconic."

The temperature in the office did not just drop. It emotionally plummeted.

Dante’s gaze sharpened, his expression calm in that terrifying, elegant way that usually meant someone else’s soul was about to suffer.

"You are going to be punished for a week," he said coolly.

Boo gasped so hard he nearly evaporated.

"P-Punished for a weeek?!" he squeaked, clutching his tail like a wrongfully accused citizen.

"After lunch," Dante continued, his voice smooth and merciless, "you will come to my office every day and write ’I am sorry’ ten times."

A notebook and pencil appeared in his hand like divine judgment.

"We will begin today," Dante added, leaning against his desk with composed cruelty. "I have already prepared everything."

Boo stared at the notebook like it was a death sentence.

"NOOOOOOO!" he wailed, spinning in the air dramatically. "Not writing! Anything but writing! I would rather haunt toilets! I would rather be vacuumed! I would rather be exorcised by an amateur!"

"I don’t care," Dante replied calmly.

With a flick of his fingers, Boo was gently yanked forward and placed onto a floating chair that popped into existence beneath him.

The moment Boo realized he was sitting, his trauma vanished instantly.

"...Oh wow."

He bounced slightly. The chair bobbed with him like a magical cloud.

"WAIT—this chair is AMAZING," Boo said in awe, spinning in a slow circle. "It floats. It glides. It supports my emotional needs. Can I have one in class? I promise I will spread only positive misinformation from now on!"

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose for a brief second, as if praying to the universe for patience.

"You are not negotiating furniture," he said flatly.

"But look how smooth it is," Boo insisted, rubbing the armrest lovingly. "Teacher would LOVE this. Everyone would love this. I deserve this. This chair understands me."

Dante stared at him in silence, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and reluctant disbelief at this tiny supernatural menace.

"You will write," he said simply.

Boo looked at the notebook with absolute betrayal.

"This is oppression," he muttered tragically, gripping the pencil like it had personally offended him. "This is how villains are born."

He leaned over the page and began writing with dramatic suffering.

"I..." he sniffed loudly, "...am..."

He paused, glaring at the paper.

"Sorry," he finished with a deep, wounded sigh. "There. My dignity has been attacked."

Dante tapped the notebook once with a finger.

"Nine more times."

Boo stared at him in pure horror.

"...You are a tyrant," he whispered.

Dante raised a brow.

"And you," he replied coldly, "are grounded by grammar."