Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 65: Deal, Proposal

Leaning against the wall, Ho-cheol furrowed his brow.

“What’s with that reaction? Someone might think I got rejected.”

“I didn’t expect you to agree so readily.”

The director’s uneasy expression betrayed his confusion.

The deal was similar in nature to the Association’s offer, but to accept without hesitation or negotiation?

It was natural to suspect Ho-cheol had ulterior motives.

“Let me explain, since your thoughts are so obvious.”

Ho-cheol chuckled, tapping the documents with the back of his hand.

“It’s not like I agreed thoughtlessly. I checked and thought it through.”

If the list were just high-ranking villains, he’d have reacted differently—squeezing out every advantage or outright refusing.

But this wasn’t the case.

“Some of these guys need to be caught ASAP. Haggling over terms just wastes time for both of us.”

Over half the villains on the list were obscure B-Class, but their raw danger surpassed typical A-Class.

Hedonists causing mass casualties or acting without clear motives.

They weren’t worth the effort for heroes, who’d see them as mere villains.

Still, there was a sense the Association was offloading high-risk targets onto him.

As a former leader, he understood.

Protecting your people was natural.

Moreover, if these villains’ traits reached the organization, the problem would balloon.

Individual crimes were one thing; a large-scale villain organization using them was another.

He had no intention of bargaining with civilian safety at stake.

“I see.”

After Ho-cheol’s explanation, the director nodded, relieved.

He’d said similar things during pre-release negotiations.

If they’d ignored the purists and focused Ho-cheol on villain captures, this chaos might’ve been avoided.

Swallowing regret, he chugged his coffee.

“It’s not charity, though. I’ll take what’s offered.”

“Of course. For starters…”

“Wait, one thing.”

Ho-cheol raised his index finger, cutting him off. Lowering it, he tapped his watch.

“This.”

He pointed out the hallway window, toward So-hee, talking seriously with her team.

“And her—what’s the plan?”

“For villain captures, we’ll allow limited use of your trait. Relax, none of these guys require your full power, do they?”

Unless an S-Class was involved.

Even then, few escapees would demand Ho-cheol’s all.

He wagged his finger side to side, unconvinced.

“That’s for pure subduing fights. Factoring in civilian safety, I can’t guarantee with limited output.”

Killing was easy.

Subduing without killing took triple the effort. Protecting bystanders made even Ho-cheol unsure.

“Plus…”

Leaning off the wall, he lowered his voice seriously.

“You know about the organization boss’s traits, right?”

“Trait theft and granting?”

“No guarantee none of these guys have been powered up like that.”

They were already dealing with traits suited for mass destruction.

One misstep, and he might need to overpower them completely.

He didn’t want to quibble over details later.

“No charges for non-human damages. And raise the trait output cap.”

“…We can’t fully lift it.”

That was the director’s maximum concession.

“Fair enough.”

Ho-cheol nodded, satisfied, biting his paper cup.

He didn’t need exact output limits.

Blurring the lines was his real goal.

Now he could get away with some trouble.

Needing to hold back against villains was absurd.

In the old days, he’d have ripped their limbs off for less.

“And about Agent Han So-hee…”

The director sighed after a pause.

“I’ll honor your request. We can’t remove monitoring, but if she’s uncomfortable, we’ll assign a combat-ready agent.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Ho-cheol waved dismissively.

Clueless guy.

“I’m not asking for a replacement. If she’s monitoring me, let her focus on that. Look at her—running around for other tasks. How’s she supposed to have time to catch villains?”

His rambling boiled down to: stop giving her extra work.

The director nodded, understanding.

“That won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

Ho-cheol had emptied his cup.

“So, what do I get?”

“First, guaranteed outings. During and after the deal, one monthly outing.”

“I like that.”

He’d been pushing outing limits shamelessly, but that could only go so far.

Milking the Association without accepting their deal would cause issues.

Official permission for outings was better.

“And we’ll allow personal property ownership.”

Ho-cheol whistled softly.

That was unexpected.

His professor salary mostly went to the state treasury—Clington’s pay dwarfed regular jobs.

No more mooching off So-hee’s paycheck.

But personal property wasn’t that simple.

“So I can openly spend my money?”

His villain-era wealth.

It meant official recognition of those assets.

Most had been seized as fines, but some remained—cash spent at the Lunard Auction, but physical assets, like the MT island or the trees, were hidden across the country.

“There was debate, but letting your wealth rot in hiding is worse for the economy than circulating it, per the Association.”

“Cash conversion?”

“Through legal Association channels.”

Ho-cheol snorted mockingly.

“Economic circulation, my ass.”

“Sounds like they’ll take most of it in fees and taxes.”

“You don’t like it?”

“Nah.”

Their blatant intent to siphon his wealth was sleazy, but it wasn’t a total loss.

He couldn’t touch that money until his sentence was cleared.

Losing half to fees was better than nothing.

Besides, converting it legally without his old illicit routes—mostly lost—would’ve been a hassle.

“And the big one?”

“Sentence reduction. But since these villains aren’t high-ranking, and we’re handling tracking and transport…”

The director paused.

“B-Class: three months each. A-Class: six months.”

“Too stingy.”

“Sorry, no room for negotiation. The Association won’t budge a minute.”

“Fine.”

Ho-cheol nodded without complaint.

He’d expected this.

The Association’s biggest fear was him catching dozens of A-Class villains and wiping out his sentence instantly.

They’d concede elsewhere, but not here.

“What if I catch an S-Class escapee by chance?”

“We’ll talk then.”

No firm answer on S-Class was part of that caution.

“Alright. Not bad.”

He extended his hand.

The director, relieved, reached out for a handshake.

But Ho-cheol didn’t take it.

“Not that.”

He snatched the empty cup from the director’s other hand.

Stacking both cups, he tossed them in the trash.

“Save the handshake for when I lock up all these guys.”

* * *

Friday evening, grading the remaining exams, an unexpected guest arrived—not exactly a guest.

Ho-cheol looked up as Se-ah barged in after a cursory knock.

“No grading for you? You’ve got plenty of classes.”

“With my experience? Underlings handle it.”

“Lucky you.”

He muttered enviously, returning to grading.

“What? I come all this way, and no proper greeting?”

“Busy. I’ll play later—go away for now.”

He waved her off dismissively.

Her lips twitched at his attitude, but she quickly regained her confident demeanor.

“I brought important info, and you tell me to leave? Really?”

Ho-cheol glanced at her, intrigued.

“If it’s not important, I’m ripping Gom-gom’s ears off.”

“Not Gom-gom!”

She yelped, hiding the bear doll behind her back.

“So, what is it?”

Clearing her throat, she covered her mouth with her small fist.

“Ahem, there’s an Invention Day event next week. Know about it?”

“Nope.”

An instant reply.

Se-ah, puffing up, explained.

“Invention Day is the biggest event for the Support Item Engineering Department.”

The Hero Department overshadowed it, but Clington had Operation Support and item-making departments too.

Invention Day was for those sidelined groups.

“Sounds completely unrelated to us. Not that important…”

He raised his hand, wagging his index finger.

“Hand over Gom-gom.”

“No! Listen! The big deal is tons of outsiders coming.”

He stopped wagging.

The academy was more closed-off than ever, canceling even routine outsider events.

A large-scale event allowing outsiders was unusual.

“This year too?”

“Yup. With all the recent incidents hitting the Hero Department, they’re pissed about taking losses despite being targeted.”

“Crazy bastards.”

Prioritizing careers over student safety?

Unlike Ho-cheol, Se-ah continued with some understanding.

“Well, their department needs job prospects for students. Once a year, they invite industry people to showcase their skills, products, and projects, building connections. It’s a rare chance to reach companies, heroes, the Association, even the government. They can’t miss it.”

Ho-cheol’s scowl remained, but he held back further insults.

He didn’t empathize, but he got their position.

Still, it had little to do with him.

Unless the Association was insane, they wouldn’t expect him to avoid everyone.

Just keeping conversations minimal was enough. He wasn’t the type to chat up strangers anyway—no big issue.

Se-ah clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

Jumping onto his bed, she plopped down.

“Idiot. It’s the Support Item Engineering Department’s biggest event. Regular people come to gawk at the academy, but that’s not all.”

He finally caught her drift, turning fully.

“Lots of high-ranking heroes, huh?”

“Yup. So be careful. You caused some trouble back in the day—running into familiar faces could be awkward.”

Invention Day drew the most S-Class heroes of any academy event.

Top heroes had dedicated teams or agencies, but scouting talent was natural.

Last year, three active S-Class heroes attended, nearly ten with retirees.

Ho-cheol was mildly surprised.

“Retirees are trickier.”

Given his active years, retired S-Class heroes were more concerning.

He looked at Se-ah, surprised.

“You came to warn me about that?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

Knowing his past, she didn’t want him tangled with other heroes, causing trouble.

Crossing her arms, she turned away.

“If you get in a mess with some old hero pal, it’d smear our union too.”

“Stay locked in my room, get it.”

“That’s not what I said! Just be cautious. Or…”

Realizing her slip, she avoided his gaze, mumbling.

“If you’re scared, stick with me. I can guide you to avoid their paths.”

That was her real reason for coming.

Se-ah had few friends—none, really. At her age, making new ones was hard, but her situation was dire.

As union leader and Manipulation Department head, she held immense power.

Most professors found her intimidating or politically hostile, but Ho-cheol was different.

Maybe because of his villain past.

Unfazed by her status, he saw her as just Se-ah. No one else was as easy to be around.

He was a true friend to her.

So-hee was similar, but as his monitor, asking her to hang out during work was pointless.

Convincing Ho-cheol, though, was a two-for-one friend deal.

Shaking her legs anxiously, she awaited his response.

His deliberation was brief.

Waiting out the event in his room wasn’t his style, and checking things out could be fun.

“Alright.”

The plan worked.

She grinned inwardly—and outwardly.

“Not many heroes would know my face or voice.”

He listed a few who might.

Se-ah racked her memory, then shrugged.

“Nah, none of them ever came, as far as I know.”

“Good.”

No big issue, then.

But a sudden thought made him rub his mouth.

“Swordmaster. His kid’s at the academy—doesn’t he show up?”

The current top S-Class hero, also Da-yeon’s father.

Ho-cheol had a bad history with him, and meeting him would be tough.

Da-yeon had said he wasn’t interested in her, but to skip even this event?

“Yup. We sent an invite last year, but he declined. Send one this year too—probably won’t come.”

“Geez.”

Relieved for Ho-cheol, but surprising.

Swordmaster was always sword-obsessed, but not this bad.

How did he even function as a hero?

“Well, it’s snack time for me.”

Her goal achieved, Se-ah got off the bed.

But Ho-cheol stopped her.

“Huh?”

He held out answer sheets and a pen.

“Help me grade.”