Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 69 : Choi Da-yeon

The expo site was utter chaos.

Despite the presence of heroes and professors capable of immediate response, the sheer number and density of civilians made control nearly impossible.

Fortunately, the initial explosion occurred outside the expo grounds, avoiding major casualties, but calming the panicked crowd was a lost cause.

Some individuals even worsened the situation, rushing against the evacuation flow to secure exhibited items or dragging oversized machinery.

Identifying the explosion’s exact location and cause was secondary to the overwhelming task of civilian control and evacuation.

It was a pathetic mess.

Clicking his tongue, Ho-cheol navigated the crowd to find Se-ah.

Her small stature worried him, but she was easy to spot, perched on Gom-gom’s shoulder, directing the evacuation.

He approached her.

“What’s the situation?”

“Not good. No sign of villains, and I’m wondering if it’s just an accident, but the expo’s security isn’t that lax to let in explosives of that scale. We don’t know which booth or who’s responsible. So, did things with the Swordmaster end well… Hey! Hey!”

Mid-explanation, Se-ah turned and jumped, Gom-gom in tow, upon seeing Ho-cheol’s state.

“You’re bleeding!”

“Oh, yeah.”

He raised his blood-soaked arm, blood dripping as the wound gaped.

Though he’d taken the hits deliberately, the Swordmaster’s attacks slowed his recovery significantly.

Clenching his fist, he pressed the wound.

“It just stings a bit. I’m fine.”

“That crazy bastard Swordmaster actually did this!”

Se-ah’s nicknames for him had escalated rhythmically: Swordmaster, then jerk, now crazy bastard.

Fuming at the dripping blood, she regretted not following him, though Da-yeon’s family ties had held her back.

Ho-cheol remained calm.

“Now’s not the time to get mad about that.”

His undeniable logic made her bite her lip.

“The other two?”

“Sent them to evacuate.”

“Good.”

Boom!

Another explosion, from a different direction, rocked the area.

Though weaker than the Dean’s, it was dangerous enough for civilians.

Thankfully, it was on the expo’s outskirts.

Black smoke billowed from another side, but it was opposite the evacuation route, sparing lives.

Still, the expo was thoroughly ruined.

“Tch.”

Ho-cheol clicked his tongue irritably.

No villain activity was visible.

If they had a goal, they should’ve acted by now.

With their presence and motives unclear, heroes were limited in their response.

Was it really just an accident?

Recent prison breaks had flooded the streets with lowlife villains.

This felt too sloppy for an organized group like “the Organization.”

It was likely petty thieves targeting expo goods.

He pulled out the expo map, noting the explosion sites, evacuation points, booth types, and smoke.

Muttering, “If I were a villain…”

His villainous mindset kicked in, producing an answer.

Glancing between the smoke and evacuating civilians, he turned decisively.

No certainty, but it was the most likely scenario.

“You’ve got civilian evacuation handled?”

Se-ah, about to protest, saw his resolute expression and nodded.

He wouldn’t listen anyway.

She added earnestly.

“You’re injured. Be careful.”

“Yeah.”

Ho-cheol headed toward the smoke.

The thick, acrid wall obscured everything, but he plunged in without hesitation.

After some time, the smoke parted with a whoosh.

At its center, untouched by fire, was a hollow space.

No fire existed—only a car-sized grotesque machine spewing black smoke.

“As expected.”

Ho-cheol shook his head, spotting three men looting a booth.

They’d caused explosions to herd people in one direction and used smoke to block visibility.

At other expos, sponsors would’ve demanded fire suppression alongside evacuation, but Clington prioritized lives, ignoring corporate demands—a clever plan.

Their mistake?

“Busy little bees.”

They hadn’t anticipated someone like Ho-cheol, whose Traits weren’t suited for rescue, prioritizing capturing them.

“Who’s that?”

The men, mid-looting, noticed him late.

“Four minutes earlier than expected. Evacuation’s not done yet,” one grumbled, checking the time.

Despite feigned calm, their eyes betrayed panic.

Yet, with some confidence, one smirked.

“You alone?”

“How many does it take to catch a few thieves?”

As Ho-cheol stepped forward, a villain raised a finger.

“Stop. One more step, and…”

He pointed at the ground.

“These mines go off.”

Ho-cheol glanced down at white discs, roughly pizza-sized, not resembling mines.

“Mines? With the power of that earlier explosion?”

He scoffed.

“Should’ve scattered Lego bricks instead.”

That’d at least be funny.

The villain hurriedly added.

“Not just that. Step on one, and my Trait activates, triggering hundreds of mines around the expo.”

He flicked his thumb against his nail.

“Boom!”

He gestured dramatically.

“Confidence in those mines, huh? Must be a sturdy Enhancement Trait. No way you can neutralize hundreds across this area.”

Ho-cheol’s usual ease hardened.

In everyday life, identical discs would raise suspicion, but at a tech expo, they blended in unnoticed.

“We don’t want to hurt anyone. Leave the main mine linked to these alone, and they won’t blow.

Let’s keep this civil.”

One villain signaled his partners, who glanced at Ho-cheol and resumed looting.

“Huh. These mines won’t stay dormant just because I avoid them, right?”

“Of course. My Trait controls them. One thought, and boom! Even if I pass out, boom! So stay put. We’re wrapping up.”

Ho-cheol frowned.

“I’ve seen you on the escapee list.”

He pressed his forehead.

A high-risk villain capable of mass casualties, flagged by the Legal Department head.

Even Ho-cheol couldn’t recall every escapee, but this one’s unique profile—mediocre Trait but a master bomb-maker, jailed for corporate terrorism—stood out.

He eyed the booth’s logo, a notoriously shady company.

“Still holding a grudge?”

“Grudge?”

The villain shrugged.

“They backstabbed me first. I’m just here for my severance pay.”

“Got lucky escaping prison, and you pull this instead of going clean?”

“You know farming takes startup capital, right?”

“Fair point. Shame.”

Their banter continued as the villains stripped the booth of cutting-edge tech.

If it reached competitors, the damage would be incalculable.

Raising his hands, the villain said.

“We’re just here for our pay. Didn’t touch other booths. Let us go quietly.”

“That’s why you’re still breathing. A little leniency.”

“What?”

Ho-cheol tilted his head, hands behind his back.

Their sob story, mild attitude, and shred of decency earned them a chance to be caught unharmed.

“So.”

He pulled out his phone, already on a call with Se-ah—not for her to listen, but another.

“Hundreds of mines across the expo, needing to be destroyed simultaneously with no margin for error.”

His abilities couldn’t resolve this without collateral damage, but that didn’t mean no one could.

“Easy.”

He ended the call.

Even an archenemy like the Swordmaster wouldn’t ignore duty.

“Villains always have the edge, but know what heroes have?”

He looked skyward, the villains following suit.

“When I can’t do something, someone else can. Getting burned by that as a villain sucked, but doing it? Watching you squirm is sweet.”

A white beam shot upward, like a giant sword, splintering into countless blades raining over the expo.

The villains stared, dumbfounded, as a blade pierced the main mine in front of Ho-cheol.

The lead villain frantically signaled his Trait, but none of the mines detonated.

“Huh?”

“Tough luck. Who’d expect the Swordmaster to do a heist?”

Ho-cheol stepped on the shattered mine, advancing.

“Put back what you stole, and I’ll let you ride to jail instead of an ambulance.”

The villains fled. He shook his head.

“If they were that smart, they wouldn’t be villains.”

He reached out.

* * *

Fussing over the still-smoking machine, Ho-cheol grumbled.

“How the hell do you turn this off?”

No power button, no cords, and smacking it did nothing.

As he considered sealing the entrance, he turned and met the Swordmaster again.

Calmer now, but the silence was heavier.

The Swordmaster spoke first.

“Asking for my help? Shameless.”

“Saving lives comes before pride. Heroes who fuss over that cause trouble.”

The Swordmaster’s eyebrow twitched at Ho-cheol’s nonchalant reply but regained composure.

“I should’ve asked earlier.”

Blinded by rage earlier, he hadn’t.

“How’d you get out?”

“The Association pulled me. Said they’d reduce my sentence if I worked.”

“Ridiculous.”

“That’s how the world works.”

Ho-cheol shrugged.

Silence fell again.

“If not for you, my wife would’ve lived. I can’t forgive you. I won’t, and I have no reason to.”

He sighed deeply.

“But no matter how irresponsible I seem, I’m a hero. I can’t do more than vent.”

His hero’s duty blocked the easiest path to revenge.

“Tell my daughter everything. And stay away. That’s the condition for letting you go.”

“I was gonna tell her anyway. I promised.”

The Swordmaster clicked his tongue at Ho-cheol’s compliance.

“You’re too weak to be worth cutting. Crushed by your sins, waiting for a miserable end, like I was.”

His killing intent surged but was suppressed.

Sneering, he said.

“Revenge is out of my hands.”

His twisted smile carried certainty.

Ho-cheol wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone precious because of him.

“I’ll wait for the day her blade pierces you.”

With that, he left, as if unwilling to linger.

* * *

Back at the expo, Ho-cheol explained to Se-ah.

“That bastard Swordmaster showed up again?”

“Yeah, we talked a bit, and he left.”

“That’s something. But what did you do to piss off a guy like that? Not just crossed—he treats you like an archenemy!”

“It’s a long story.”

“Tch, get treated already!”

Despite the Item Fabrication Department hosting, the villain attack left cleanup to the Hero Department.

Se-ah rallied professors for the aftermath, while Ho-cheol, ignoring her insistence on treatment, bandaged his wounds lightly.

A bigger issue loomed.

Returning to the warehouse, Da-yeon waited as promised.

Ho-cheol sat on the dusty floor, and she joined him, grabbing his sleeve.

“You’ll explain, right?”

“Yeah.”

Her uncharacteristic urgency showed her desperation for reassurance that the Swordmaster was wrong and Ho-cheol was innocent.

“Swordmaster—your father…”

“Call him Swordmaster, it’s fine.”

“Right. When I was a villain, we met at a gate.”

He recounted the past plainly.

“We both wanted the Rainbow Cosmos. Now it’s a cheap ornamental flower online, but back then, it was a rare material from specific gates. Not just expensive—no amount of money could buy it.”

The memory played like a film.

“He didn’t know I was a villain. I knew who he was.”

The encounter was simple: both wanted the single Cosmos in the gate, with no next chance.

Ho-cheol, grasping the situation first, acted.

The Swordmaster, caught off guard, was beaten and lost the Cosmos.

Da-yeon, listening, felt her lips dry. She licked them, her hands clenching.

“That Cosmos… was it for Mom’s illness?”

Ho-cheol hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah. That’s why he calls me his wife’s killer.”

“Then… if you hadn’t…”

Her voice trembled piteously.

The person she loved most, who loved her most, whose memory choked her with emotion.

Her death was because.

“If it wasn’t for you, would Mom have lived?”

“…Yes.”

She reached out, grabbing his shirt, her hands, shoulders, and body trembling.

“Why? Why did you do it?”

Her voice was desperate.

If only there was a grand reason, something undeniable, a justification she could accept.

She’d bear it.

Please, just—

“It was…”

Ho-cheol paused, then answered honestly.

“Because it was rare. Back then, no money could buy a Rainbow Cosmos.”

“For that?”

Da-yeon looked ready to cry.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

His face showed pain, but no deceit.

“Even in the same situation, I’d make the same choice.”

“You…”

Her blue eyes reflected only him.

“You’re an utterly selfish person.”