Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 55: Deal

The Hero Association President.

That title was far from trivial.

Even if the Association was often overshadowed by S-Class heroes, that applied only to lower-tier officials.

The president held a stature incomparable even to S-Class heroes.

In an era defined by heroes, the president wielded power that dwarfed even influential politicians.

A summons from such a figure.

It’d be a lie to say it didn’t pique his interest.

Of course, there was also a touch of disbelief.

Not once since his release had they shown any interest, yet now, after this incident, they called for him.

He could guess about half of their intentions.

His curiosity wasn’t about their goals but their audacity.

Ho-cheol gestured toward the half-empty coffee cup.

“Let me finish this, then we’ll go.”

“Oh, sure.”

He reached for the cup, downing the remaining coffee in one gulp.

The dean watched him quietly before blurting out.

“Say, are you interested in something like a blind date?”

For a brief moment, Ho-cheol froze. Not just his body—his thoughts stopped entirely.

It was a single sentence, yet he couldn’t process its meaning.

Piecing together the words and finally grasping the sentence, his body reacted before his mind could catch up.

The coffee he’d been swallowing came back up.

Choking and coughing, tears welled in his eyes.

So-hee, gripping the doorknob, gaped with her mouth wide open.

Regaining his composure, Ho-cheol wiped the coffee from his mouth and glared at the dean.

His look screamed, What kind of crazy talk is that?

The dean responded casually.

“Well, being an academy professor is a pretty desirable title. I often get requests to introduce good people to someone in your position. Some don’t care about background or past.”

Unlike Ho-cheol, who was flabbergasted, the dean’s expression was utterly serious.

This wasn’t to tease or joke.

No one in this world is 100% trustworthy, especially not a former villain like Ho-cheol.

The dean wanted to trust him, knowing how much effort Ho-cheol had put into the academy and

its students.

No—he did trust him, which is why he brought it up.

The Association’s physical surveillance and control were mere formalities, utterly ineffective.

They were the only option, not the best one.

But in their brief conversation yesterday, the dean saw another possibility.

Judging from Ho-cheol’s usual attitude and behavior, his core was still closer to a villain.

Yet the external events and relationships built atop it were what sustained the current Ho-cheol.

Borrowed beliefs and morals, yet firmer and more resolute than anyone’s, unshakable.

That was the dean’s assessment of Ho-cheol after two months of observation.

The blind date suggestion was an extension of that.

Rather than isolating Ho-cheol from society, integrating him deeply into it would make him easier to control.

Of course, Ho-cheol, unaware of the dean’s intentions, simply thought the old man had lost his mind.

“There’s a limit to not caring about background or past. What kind of grief would the woman go through?”

“Well, you and I are both relics of an older era. The younger generation today is far more impressive than we can imagine. What matters is whether you’ve got the heart for it.”

“No way.”

He could tell the dean was serious, but that didn’t mean he had to be.

Ho-cheol waved his hand dismissively.

“Is your villain past really that much of a hang-up?”

“Well, it’s not entirely irrelevant, but there are other reasons too. More than anything…”

Ho-cheol stood up.

“I prefer natural encounters.”

The unexpected reply left the dean speechless this time.

“You’re a lunatic.”

“Look who’s talking. Anyway, I’m going. Made me spit out expensive coffee with that nonsense.”

He turned and headed for the door, lightly tapping So-hee’s shoulder as she stood frozen, still gripping the doorknob.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh? Oh! Uh, yes!”

* * *

In the parking lot outside, Ho-cheol, riding in So-hee’s car for the first time in a while, tapped the dashboard.

“Well, look at this. Been a while, ol’ trusty.”

Spotless and gleaming like a new car, though in reality, it was a rebuilt wreck with swapped parts.

On the way to Association Headquarters, Ho-cheol gazed out the window and casually asked?

“So, your stuff’s all wrapped up? Back to babysitting me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

So-hee, lost in thought, snapped back and nodded.

“I got all the info I needed, and with everyone at headquarters swamped, it just kinda fizzled out.

As for monitoring… yeah, headquarters is too busy, so it’s probably me again.”

“Good to hear.”

She teased him with a playful grin.

“Good to hear? Missed me that*much?”

“You bet.”

Her teasing faltered at his prompt, unwavering reply, and she swallowed hard.

Blushing, she fidgeted with her fingers on the steering wheel.

After a moment of hesitation, she murmured.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it’s good. That other guy was a terrible fit. A few more days with him, and I’d have died of stress.”

“Haha, but about that blind date thing earlier. If you’re up for it, should I introduce you to a hero?”

“Who cares about that meddling old man?”

Grumbling, Ho-cheol paused to think.

“Well, that old guy’s got surprising connections in the hunter world. Considering they don’t care about pasts, it’s probably someone from that side.”

“Hunters, huh? Every hunter I’ve met has been a jerk.”

“Most of ‘em are. Never met a nice one myself.”

Being a hunter wasn’t something sane people did.

They were mercenaries risking their lives against monsters for money.

Sure, some had a sense of duty like heroes, blocking gates, but those were a tiny minority.

“By the way, I heard there were S-Class villains in yesterday’s attack. You okay?”

“It’s complicated to explain.”

It’d only been a week or so since they last saw each other, but there was surprisingly a lot to talk about.

They chatted about trivial matters until they reached the Hero Association Headquarters.

The headquarters building in the distance looked pristine.

Despite collapsing yesterday, a new, grander structure now stood in its place.

No surprise there.

With so many Manipulation-type heroes, rebuilding a building was nothing.

For security reasons, So-hee stayed in the lobby, and Ho-cheol followed a staff member into the elevator.

The top floor, Conference Room 1.

The moment he opened the door, a chill seeped deep into his lungs.

A rectangular table with nine empty chairs greeted him.

The seat assigned to Ho-cheol had only a plain, backless stool.

The other nine chairs were visibly luxurious.

This kind of treatment.

He clicked his tongue, frowning.

“Some hospitality.”

It was an old-school tactic to intimidate him.

He sat on the stool, crossing his legs.

Let’s see how much they’ll try to rattle me.

After a short wait, another door opened.

People entered one by one, taking their seats without hesitation, as if preassigned.

Ho-cheol scanned them.

A sly middle-aged man, an expressionless woman, a gaunt elderly man—no signs of physical training.

Not heroes.

Among the latecomers was a familiar face.

The Legal Department Director.

He noticed Ho-cheol, gave a brief glance, nodded slightly, and sat silently in his designated seat.

Ho-cheol looked at him with surprise—not at him, but at his seat.

Second from the left, not even close to the head of the table.

Even the Legal Department Director, among the top ten in the Association, got such a peripheral seat.

That’s when Ho-cheol realized who these people were.

They were all directors of Association-affiliated agencies.

This was a meeting of the top nine in the Hero Association’s hierarchy.

Soon, eight seats were filled, leaving only the head chair empty.

The door opened.

The directors stood in unison, as if on cue.

The chairs scraped lightly against the floor, and they straightened their backs.

The president entered silently, pausing at the threshold to survey the room with an impassive gaze before taking the head seat.

Only after he sat did the directors sit back down.

Overwhelming authority and presence.

Ho-cheol alone remained unfazed, maintaining a relaxed demeanor.

His eyes met the president’s.

A heavy silence hung between them.

The president clasped his hands and spoke.

“The Association is currently facing unprecedented chaos and danger. As of now—”

Ho-cheol raised a hand, cutting him off.

“Skip the stuffy, boring situation rundown. Why’d you call me here? Get to the point.”

Several directors bristled at his attitude, but the president remained calm.

“Fine, I’ll skip the pleasantries and get to it. Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal.”

Ho-cheol rubbed his chin with his bent index finger.

Kinda underwhelming?

“Training students to be heroes to reduce my sentence—that’s already a deal, isn’t it?”

“This is a separate deal.”

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“You can quit playing professor at the academy.”

Ho-cheol’s expression hardened slightly, though so subtly no one noticed.

He asked, as if struggling to understand.

“Playing? You’re the one who told me to be a professor, and now you’re calling it play?”

“Compared to this deal, it’s not even close to playing. Listen carefully—this deal benefits you too.”

The president snapped his fingers.

Images appeared on the wall behind him—photos of a single person taken from a distance.

Ho-cheol knew them well.

Even through the photos, the intense, commanding aura was palpable.

Short-cropped dark gray hair, tightly closed lips, and a deep, piercing gaze that seemed to see through everything.

A man who once redefined justice itself, now surrounded by charred corpses in the photos.

[The Sun]

“Capture the escape [The Sun]. Dead or alive. If you succeed…”

The president declared.

“Your remaining 188-year sentence, your entire criminal record—all of it will be erased, no conditions attached.”

“Hah.”

Ho-cheol let out a small laugh.

What kind of nonsense was this, dragging a busy man all the way here?