Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 45: Cleanup

Dozens of Hero Association transport aircraft landed on the beach, kicking up fierce sandstorms.

The doors opened, revealing a special forces platoon equipped with anti-trait gear and association-affiliated heroes.

Seeing their armed state and aura, I muttered in disbelief.

“Here for a war or what?”

Their gear was a far cry from the academy’s security team.

Bullets designed to counter all traits, full-body armor resistant to manipulation and emission traits, and flawless training to back it up.

A single platoon could easily subdue a couple of A-rank villains—and there were five of them.

My muttering about war wasn’t an exaggeration.

Moreover, their reactions were hypersensitive.

Se-ah’s call for support had been made before the villains’ presence was confirmed.

She’d only shared details about the mist and the island’s location, with the villains’ existence still unconfirmed, merely suspected.

Before going into surgery, she’d sent another message confirming the situation was resolved.

The association’s role now was just transporting the students, conducting thorough checkups, and taking custody of the villains.

Yet, the special forces were armed to the teeth with heavy weaponry, deploying such a force for a reason:

[Alpha Team. Target confirmed.]

[Beta Team. Target confirmed.]

[Delta Team. Initiating student protection.]

Click—

Me.

Of the five platoons, one headed toward the subdued villains in the corner, another formed a protective wall around the students.

The remaining three aimed their weapons at me.

[No signs of resistance.]

[Securing immediately.]

Voices buzzed from inside their helmets.

As I stood still, one of the special forces approached and cuffed my wrists.

[Transporting now.]

“Well, suspicion’s natural,” I muttered, looking at the cuffs.

I wasn’t too bothered by them.

But glancing at the shocked students, I clicked my tongue.

“This isn’t good for the kids’ mental health.”

Crunch—

I lightly twisted my wrists, shattering the cuffs.

“Could at least cover it with a cloth for courtesy.”

The moment I broke the cuffs, the guns snapped back to my head.

They were ready to pull the trigger at any moment.

But I was relaxed.

What could they do with those toys?

“Stand down.”

A man in lighter gear stepped in front of the special forces.

“An association hero, huh.”

Unlike ranked heroes operating in specific regions, these were association-exclusive heroes, moving wherever the association sent them without regional limits.

Though sometimes mocked as the association’s dogs due to their lack of rank, their stricter moral standards and superior combat skills made them far from negligible.

The association hero spoke curtly, commanding me.

“Jeong Ho-cheol. Don’t cause trouble. Come quietly.”

“Who said I’m not going? Just don’t cuff me. No courtesy at all?”

“We’re not exactly escorting you politely, are we? Come quietly…”

The atmosphere was about to turn hostile when—

“Stop it!”

A sharp shout came from the medical tent.

All eyes turned to the tent’s entrance, where Se-ah stood.

She ripped off the IV needles from her wrist and stepped between me and the association hero.

“Since when does the Hero Association have the right to cuff a Clington professor?”

She bared her teeth with a menacing expression.

The association hero scratched the back of his head awkwardly and said briefly.

“He’s a villain under contract with the association, temporarily released. He violated our oversight and contract, so we’re taking him into custody. Please cooperate.”

“Contract? What contract did he break?”

The hero fell silent.

I hadn’t violated any contract.

It was just that, in less than a month, students had been attacked by villains twice, and I was present both times.

Suspecting a connection, the higher-ups ordered my immediate detention and transport.

When the hero didn’t answer, Se-ah scoffed.

“Before he’s a villain under your contract and oversight, he’s a professor who just fought tooth and nail against villains! A professor who protected the students! By what authority are you taking him?”

“I’m sorry, but the association has the authority to detain him at our discretion.”

“Oh, really?”

Se-ah smirked, but her eyes weren’t laughing.

“Try taking him, then.”

She raised her hand, aiming at a transport aircraft.

Creak—

With a grotesque sound, the aircraft’s body began to crumple.

As it did, the special forces and the hero’s expressions twisted too.

They were utterly bewildered by the situation.

Who’d have thought a Clington professor would defend me like this?

Touching Se-ah now would complicate things significantly.

At worst, it could fracture the cooperative relationship between the association and the academy.

“Think you can keep talking like that after all your fancy aircraft are scrapped?”

But Se-ah was only putting out an immediate fire.

She was still a critical patient who’d been bedridden moments ago.

Overexerting herself, blood dripped from her nose.

Surprisingly, I resolved the situation.

“That’s enough.”

She turned, frowning.

“What?”

“You’re a patient overusing your strength. What if your wounds reopen? Look, you’re already bleeding.”

I pulled a tissue from my pocket, rolled it up, and stuffed it into her nose.

“I told you to stay in bed.”

Se-ah glared at me, dumbfounded.

Who’s taking whose side here?

“I’m doing this for you!”

Her voice was nasal, but I waved her off, cutting her short.

“I know. But they’re just doing their job. We may have different roles and perspectives, but we’re all heroes in the end. Gotta get along.”

I moved my hand to her wrist, forcing it down. The trembling aircraft quieted.

“Tch.”

Se-ah clicked her tongue.

She could’ve kept using her power without lifting a finger if she wanted, but with my stance clear, she had no choice.

I looked between the hero and the special forces, shrugging.

“I’ll go quietly, so no cuffs. Unless you want to risk all your aircraft getting crushed?”

The association hero sighed in relief internally.

Se-ah had initially objected to the cuffs and the association’s high-handed attitude, not my detainment itself.

With some compromise, their goal could be achieved.

They didn’t know everything about me, but they’d been fed half-fabricated intel suggesting I was a disguised S-rank villain.

That’s why they’d mobilized entire special forces units, not just regular ones.

In the worst case, the plan was to collaborate with the academy’s professors to subdue me.

But with a professor defending a villain, they were thrown off.

Thankfully, my compliance was a relief.

“If you’ll come quietly, we have no reason for cuffs. Let’s go.”

“Alright.”

Instead of cuffs, three platoons surrounded me in a triangular formation, keeping watch.

As I walked toward the aircraft the hero indicated, I stopped.

If I boarded now, I’d be dragged around for days under investigation.

I paused to think.

Objective results or actions don’t lose their essence over time.

But emotions do.

The longer time passes, the more those feelings blur and change.

Emotions and thoughts need to be conveyed as soon as they’re felt.

That was the last lesson I learned in my villain days.

“Hold on.”

I turned back to Se-ah. Pouting with her arms crossed, she asked,

“What?”

I knelt to meet her eye level.

“Well.”

Despite her curt reply, I extended my hand calmly.

“Jeong Ho-cheol. Instructor for the second-year augmentation department course [Advanced Applications of Augmentation Traits I].”

For a moment, she was confused, but quickly understood.

She let out a small laugh.

“Well, look at that.”

Thinking back, we’d clashed and worked together multiple times but never properly introduced ourselves.

“Jeong Se-ah. Instructor for integrated conceptual courses in the manipulation department.”

She shook my hand.

“Thank you for doing your best to protect the students.”

“…Thank you for protecting the students.”

Releasing her hand, I stood.

The special forces’ gazes shifted slightly—not just my imagination.

Halfway onto the aircraft under their watch—or perhaps escort—I turned back to the students who couldn’t intervene.

“You’ve got assignments due next week. Even if I can’t make it to class, the class leaders will collect them. If the worst happens…”

I paused, then added.

“Send them through the association. I’ll make sure to grade them.”

* * *

In the Hero Association’s interrogation room, a small space of a few square meters held only a square table and a few backless stools.

The flickering ceiling bulb added to the grim atmosphere.

But I sat on a stool, casually organizing the MT’s outcomes in my notebook.

Interrogation?

Compared to what I endured as a villain ten years ago, this was child’s play.

Unlike back then, they didn’t go over eight hours per session, citing criminal rights.

They even provided food and sleep time.

To me, this wasn’t interrogation—it was a game.

As I filled my notebook, the door creaked open.

Creak—

Three men entered.

“We’re resuming the interrogation.”

Their tone was strictly businesslike, but my response was utterly indifferent.

“High-pressure, friendly, now businesslike? Association bureaucrats haven’t changed in ten years.”

They kept changing their tone and phrasing, asking the same questions.

If I slipped on a trap question, they’d dig in relentlessly—a method I found outdated.

“You’d get more out of interrogating the villains harder.”

“We’re handling that, so don’t worry.”

Another intense round of questioning followed.

I answered everything compliantly, though with an annoyed expression.

I was innocent, so no matter how they grilled me, it was pointless.

They’d do better using a mind-reading trait, but those were all assigned to the captured villains.

Mid-interrogation, one investigator pulled out a phone.

Checking a message, he whispered to his colleagues and left with a serious expression.

Shortly after, the dean entered.

Seeing me, he clicked his tongue.

“To think I’d be going through this at my age.”

“Who’s the one going through it?”

I closed my notebook.

“And isn’t this taking too long?”

I’d expected a day or two, but days had already passed.

“No choice. It’s a messy situation.”

The dean leaned against the doorframe, sighing.

“We buried the last attack somehow, but this time, the media got wind of it.”

Clington’s first MT, held after canceling a major sports festival citing safety risks, was hit by a villain attack.

The media went wild over the scoop.

Since I couldn’t be exposed to the media, the dean had been hounded, probably photographed hundreds of times in two days.

“The media’s tearing into it, the association’s tearing into it, the academy’s tearing into it. It’s chaos.”

“But you’re here, so it’s sorted out?”

“Yeah. It’d normally take days more, but…”

He sighed again, looking noticeably older despite his usual vigor.

“You owe Professor Jeong Se-ah. She handled all the academy’s internal complaints and even defended you.”

Surprised, I twirled the pen in my hand.

“Didn’t expect her to go that far.”

“Her eye for people is sharper than mine. You’re something, winning her over.”

“Maybe our teaching philosophies align. So, I found the spy?”

He shook his head.

“Not yet. The villains are tight-lipped. Getting meaningful info will take days. But the association promised to share any relevant findings, so wait a bit.”

I packed my pen and notebook and stood.

“Oh, by the way…”

The dean hesitated, as if wrestling with something.

“Why cut off like that? You’re making me nervous.”

At my urging, he sighed a third time.

“I said Professor Jeong Se-ah handled the academy’s complaints. She emphasized how dedicated you are to the students and how you fought to protect them, convincing professors who wanted you out. It worked, clearly.”

“And?”

“It worked too well.”

I couldn’t make sense of his words.

It sounded fine, but his expression suggested he’d caused some trouble.

“Must be something like that.”

“No, explain clearly.”

Despite my insistence, he brushed it off and left.

* * *

Back at the academy, I returned on a Sunday evening, barely resting before preparing for Monday’s classes.

Thankfully, the smoke’s effects left no lasting damage, and the students resumed normal life without disrupting the lecture schedule.

Heading to the lecture hall, I suddenly stopped and looked around.

I felt eyes on me.

Had the association added surveillance without permission?

But the gazes were too clumsy and overt to be surveillance.

As I searched for their source, a few students approached.

“Uh, h-hi!”

They greeted me and scurried off.

They weren’t my students, not even ones I’d seen passing in the department building.

Complete strangers from another department greeting me?

Clington wasn’t exactly big on courtesy.

What was going on?

Ignoring the odd gazes and feelings, I reached the lecture hall.

Opening the door and stepping inside, I frowned before taking a second step.

“What’s with all this?”

The lecture hall, normally a third full, was packed.

Students even sat on the aisle steps or stood at the back, quite a few of them.

All stared at me with expectant eyes.

What the hell is this?