Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 51: S-Class

The crimson letters flashed across the screens of everyone at the academy, regardless of whether they were professors or students.

There was no detailed message, but everyone understood its meaning.

A special-grade disaster alert.

It was an alarm that sounded only during villain attacks, gate outbreaks, or natural disasters.

Third-grade, second-grade, first-grade, and then special-grade.

This was the highest level of disaster alert, sent only when there was a severe threat to the safety of an unspecified number of people in the area.

In recent years, special-grade disaster alerts in this country have been rare, countable on one hand.

Moreover, an alert covering such a wide area hadn’t occurred in a decade.

The intermittent explosions and the disaster alert message caused first- and second-year students, who had no real combat experience, to naturally fall into panic.

However, only about half of the students were caught in the chaos.

The other half—specifically, the students under Ho-cheol’s charge—appeared slightly anxious but were far more composed, calmly assessing the situation and considering how to respond.

This difference was the result of just a few real combat experiences.

Panic and fear are contagious by nature.

Conversely, if they don’t spread, they quickly subside.

Thanks to the calm demeanor of half the students, even those from other groups regained their composure swiftly.

They held their breath and instinctively turned their gaze to one spot.

Ho-cheol will figure something out.

Their eyes conveyed that shared hope.

Yet, despite their expectant looks, Ho-cheol merely stood with his arms crossed, staring silently at his phone.

“Nothing.”

He let out a sigh.

He had hoped for additional information about the scene or situation, but his phone remained silent.

Without a clear grasp of the overall situation, his priority was to ensure the students’ safety.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and gestured to gather the students.

“You all know the location of the shelter and the evacuation procedures, right?”

Of course, if villains attacked the shelter, that would change things, but a shelter should generally prevent intrusions.

“Yes.”

As expected, Ye-jin nodded.

“Then head to the shelter first. I need to get you all safely inside, or I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”

With that, he gathered the students and began moving toward the shelter.

He had hoped the academy’s dean would send some word, but it seemed the dean was too busy.

Fortunately, their location was quite far from the academy’s entrance, so they didn’t encounter any villains.

Along the way, they occasionally found students or civilians who didn’t know where the shelter was and took them along.

Midway through their movement, a pillar of light shot up in the distance.

The ground shook with a massive explosion.

Everyone stopped in their tracks, overwhelmed, staring at the pillar of light.

“…What the hell is that?”

Da-yeon muttered.

“It’s the dean’s explosive mines. Looks like a lot of villains are gathered over there.”

“That’s the dean’s trait…?”

Ho-cheol urged the group to keep moving while adding an explanation.

“That’s the real power of an S-Class, the kind you kids only talk about jokingly. And this is from an S-Class who’s retired and past their prime. To think they set up something on that scale—must be pretty pissed.”

Unlike Ho-cheol’s casual tone, the students swallowed hard, tense with apprehension.

On the internet, videos of S-Class heroes in combat occasionally surfaced.

In those clips, they seemed merely human, not displaying absurd strength.

But reality was entirely different.

There was an overwhelming gap in power, impossible for them to comprehend.

The sight of an S-Class unleashing their full strength without restraint resembled a war.

It was only logical.

If an S-Class hero unleashed a maximum-scale attack in a city, villains, civilians, and the city itself would be utterly obliterated.

Cases like this, where they could act without controlling their power or scale, were exceedingly rare.

“This is a real S-Class…”

Someone muttered.

As they continued toward the shelter, the pillars of light rose several more times.

At the entrance to the underground shelter, after ushering everyone inside, Ho-cheol grabbed the door handle.

Da-yeon, lingering at the back, turned and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Why?

Through the half-closed door, Ho-cheol stood not inside the shelter but outside.

“…What about you, Professor?”

Ho-cheol, who had been gazing at the distant mountains, finally turned to Da-yeon.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“The old man’s out there struggling. I can’t just stand by and watch.”

Da-yeon hurriedly grabbed the inner handle of the door.

“I’ll help you.”

Ho-cheol scratched his cheek silently.

“Well, you’ve been through a few real fights. In terms of skill or mindset, I’d say you’re better than some half-baked heroes.”

Da-yeon’s face brightened at the unexpected praise.

To be acknowledged so clearly!

But this time, the situation was entirely different.

Up until now, he had only let students handle villains in situations where escape wasn’t an option or when he was confident he could control the situation completely.

With the villains’ goals and scale unknown, he couldn’t recklessly involve students.

There was no reason to, either.

And so, Ho-cheol firmly and decisively shut her down.

“But no. You need to clearly understand your position. You’re students. You’re the ones who need to be protected.”

His resolute attitude left no room for argument, and Da-yeon clamped her mouth shut.

“If you’re aiming to be a hero, you need to know when to step up and when to stay back.

Got it?”

“…Yes.”

Da-yeon let go of the door handle.

Ho-cheol gave a small chuckle and slowly closed the door.

“Thanks for worrying, though.”

Thud—

The door closed.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

It wasn’t another disaster alert but a familiar number flashing on the screen.

He pressed the call button as if he’d been waiting and got straight to the point.

“This is the north gate shelter. What’s the situation?”

[Not good.]

“Still, you’ve got time to talk.”

[That’s because it’s just small fry rushing in for now, meant to distract us.]

The dean’s voice sounded more exhausted than ever.

Though the traps were mine-based, he had to manually control the detonation timing and power to avoid accidents, which was naturally draining.

“Anything beyond the main gate?”

[The north gate is handled by the security team, but no unusual activity has been reported yet. The west gate is covered by Professor Seong Se-ah and the Manipulation Department professors. The south gate is being held by Emission and Enhancement users.]

“But are there really that many villains?”

[No. There’s a Manipulation-type among the villains. At the west gate, it’s a swarm of insects; at the south gate, wooden puppets keep coming.]

“A numbers game, huh.”

[Likely to prevent us from focusing our forces in one place.]

“Then I’ll start by…”

Ho-cheol, about to suggest joining the dean, stopped mid-sentence.

The dean’s voice on the other end also fell silent.

The sound of him swallowing hard was clear.

[Not exactly a detection type, but…]

“We’re screwed.”

Ho-cheol and the dean sighed simultaneously.

“S-Class, isn’t it?”

Even from a distance, it was unmistakable.

A wild, unrestrained aura, no less formidable than an S-Class.

In terms of sheer power, it surpassed even the dean.

And it wasn’t just one.

From the north gate and the east gate, two distinct S-Class presences were approaching the academy.

“…They came prepared.”

Ho-cheol muttered dryly.

To think an organization had this much power.

Setting everything else aside, in terms of raw strength, it rivaled the organization Ho-cheol had once been part of.

It was astonishing.

Even more astonishing was the Hero Association’s incompetence, failing to notice such an organization until it took direct action.

[You take the north gate.]

Ho-cheol didn’t respond.

The issue wasn’t being asked to handle the north gate.

His gaze was fixed eastward, toward the east gate, where the dean was holding the line.

After pursing his lips for a moment, he asked?

“You gonna be okay?”

[That’s an odd question.]

The dean replied in a calm tone once more.

[You’re underestimating me a bit too much. At the S-Class level, raw power doesn’t mean much.]

“…Alright, then.”

If he’s acting that confident, worrying further would be rude.

“Just don’t die. I had yukgaejang a few days ago, so I’m not in the mood for it anytime soon.”

[Hah, what a ridiculous thing to say. You focus on yourself. I heard your contract got changed, so you can’t even use your powers properly now. If you die with a professor title, they’ll have to pay your pension. I’m not dealing with that mess.]

“And tell the security team holding the north gate to fall back. They won’t even buy us time.”

Got it.

Another massive explosion roared from the east, and the call cut off.

Ho-cheol immediately started moving toward the north gate.

Or rather, he tried to.

Before he could take more than a few steps, the Hero Association’s team leader, his overseer, blocked his path.

“What.”

Was he here to unlock the watch in this emergency?

But the team leader’s next words completely shattered that hope.

Extending a hand to stop Ho-cheol, he said firmly.

“Combat actions are not permitted.”

Of all the things Ho-cheol had heard recently, this was undoubtedly the most absurd.

His face twisted.

“…The students could be in danger. Not just the students, but civilians who haven’t evacuated yet. And—”

He jerked his thumb toward the shelter behind him.

“You know the shelter is pretty close to the north gate, right?”

Even with the security team in place, they couldn’t hold off for long.

With other professors tied up dealing with villains at their posts, if Ho-cheol stood by, the outcome was all too obvious.

Despite knowing this dire future, the team leader didn’t budge.

“This is for the academy to handle. Without an official request for cooperation, the Association has no grounds to intervene. We’ll evacuate from here.”

“I’m technically a professor at the academy.”

“Your status as a prisoner takes precedence. The Association’s orders come first.”

Faced with such rigid adherence to protocol, utterly ignoring the situation, even Ho-cheol was at a loss for words.

“As the Association’s overseer and controller, I won’t tolerate any combat actions from you. Follow the contract.”

“Hm.”

Ho-cheol scratched his chin, deep in thought.

Should I just kill him?

But upon catching a fleeting glimpse of the team leader’s emotions, he quickly dismissed the idea.

He knew this type of person well.

They always justified themselves with excuses like duty or contracts, wrapping their true intentions in such terms.

And there was a specific way to deal with people like this.

“Fine. I don’t think I can convince you, so I’ll do as you say.”

But—

“From now on, this isn’t persuasion. It’s a threat.”

Ho-cheol sat down on the spot.

“I’m not moving a single step from here.”

The team leader’s face contorted.

* * *

The unexpected declaration left the team leader unable to hide his bewilderment.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I told you. It’s a threat.”

Ho-cheol casually pulled out a notebook and began jotting something down.

“Think carefully about the contract with the Association. The contract can restrict my actions, but it can’t force me to act. If I just stay still, it’s not a breach of contract.”

They could stop him from doing something, but they couldn’t make him do something he refused.

If they had included such a clause, it would’ve meant treating him like a slave without free will.

Sensing something ominous, the team leader’s expression grew darker.

“And among the new contract terms you guys added, there’s this.”

[Jeong Ho-cheol must not arbitrarily remove the monitoring watch without the Association’s permission.]

[The Hero Association’s overseer must maintain a distance of no more than 200 meters from Jeong Ho-cheol. The distance is measured based on the watch’s tracking device.]

Reciting these two clauses, Ho-cheol gave a light chuckle.

But only the corners of his mouth turned up—his eyes weren’t smiling at all.

“Getting the picture yet? If I don’t move a single step, you’re stuck here with me.”

Ho-cheol closed the notebook and stood up.

“I’m not the one who can’t escape you. You’re the one trapped with me.”

He pointed a finger and jabbed it into the team leader’s chest—poke, poke.

“Five minutes. In five minutes, the villains from the north gate will reach here. And I’m confident I won’t die, no matter what they do. Just enduring doesn’t even require using my trait. But you? I’m not so sure.”

The jabs to the chest grew stronger.

The team leader could clearly feel the approaching villains’ power.

His ample experience only made it clearer how dire the situation was.

Ho-cheol raised the watch on his wrist, holding it right in front of the team leader’s face.

“Is this watch sturdy enough to block one or two S-Class attacks? What about the third? I can just wait until the watch breaks and then fight, but can you survive the fallout? It’d be a miracle if there’s enough of you left to put in a coffin.”

The team leader swallowed hard.

“Still not grasping the situation? I’m not asking you to unlock this watch. You’re the one who needs to beg me to let you unlock it.”

Ho-cheol turned his head.

From the north gate, gunshots rang out, the ground shook, and buildings collapsed.

The academy’s defense systems couldn’t even buy time against an S-Class’s output.

He added, as if making a final declaration.

“Three minutes left.”

A certain death was slowly approaching.

The stubborn, brazen attitude the team leader had shown until now had completely vanished.

Before him stood just an ordinary human.

The team leader squeezed his eyes shut.

He had three options.

Cling to the contract and manual, and die to the villains.

Flee, giving Ho-cheol grounds to claim a contract violation.

Or unlock his watch willingly.

All were checkmates, but the risks were incomparable.

He pulled a key from his pocket.

His hand, gripping the key, trembled violently.

Ho-cheol smirked and extended his wrist with the watch.

Just before the key touched the lock, Ho-cheol spoke.

“Let’s make one thing clear.”

The team leader, looking far older than before, stared at Ho-cheol in confusion.

“Unlocking this watch is your choice.”

No reply came.

The team leader simply inserted the key into the lock in silence.

That was enough to answer.

Click—

The sound of metal disengaging echoed as the watch’s lock opened.