Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 72: Practical Training (2)

In the Organization’s grand meeting room, I watched as the leader, seated at the head, openly showed her displeasure.

“Is kidnapping one person really supposed to take this long?”

Propping her chin, she let out a long sigh, and the executives tensed, eyeing her cautiously.

One of them swallowed hard and spoke carefully.

“I’m sorry. I aimed to stage the target’s disappearance rather than a direct kidnapping, but they always move with at least one other person outside the Academy…”

“Tch.”

Her brief tongue-click made the atmosphere heavier.

It wasn’t just the mood—her mere presence pressed down on the air, the space itself.

The six executives gathered, all near S-rank in strength, didn’t dare defy or even hint at rebellion.

This enigmatic boss, hiding her identity, lacked exceptional charisma, strategic brilliance, or experience.

Her ability to steal and grant Traits carried significant risks and limits.

By all accounts, she was unfit to lead such a vast villain organization.

Yet, it had thrived for years due to one thing: overwhelming power.

Even ten S-rank villains couldn’t envision defeating her.

That unmatched strength was her sole driving force.

“I’m tired of waiting,” she declared.

The Organization had boldly announced its intentions but failed to follow through, which irked her.

The oppressive aura lifted as she relaxed her posture.

This was just a step toward their true goal.

There was no reason for such a trivial task to drag on for days, especially with [The Sun], now a villain, drawing attention away from us.

“No need to be subtle anymore. Kidnapping is fine.”

An executive bowed and asked?

“Yes. What about those with the target?”

“Do I need to spell out every detail?”

“No, I’ll handle it.”

The executive bowed deeper.

As the meeting continued with other matters, another checked their phone and stood abruptly.

“I’ve confirmed the target’s movement. They’re with S-1 this time.”

The leader’s eyes, previously bored, gleamed.

S-1, the Swordmaster’s only kin, held immense value despite not serving our original purpose.

“A fine opportunity. Bring them both.”

“Yes, I’ll assemble a team—”

“No.”

Cutting off the executive, she turned to one in a lab coat, who flinched.

“How many Completed Units?”

“Three, but two are still in calibration. Only one is immediately deployable.”

“Is performance guaranteed?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

Initially nervous, the executive grew confident discussing their expertise.

“It’s perfectly integrated with Manipulation, Emission, and Enhancement Traits, with a stable ego. Its output and combat ability rank among the top S-rank heroes, I’m certain!”

“Even with Academy or Association guards, that’s manageable. A good test for the unit’s real-world performance.”

The executive lit up, eager to gather data.

“Absolutely. Real-world variables will accelerate calibration.”

“Good. Prepare it immediately.”

* * *

At a location pinpointed by the Legal Department for an escaped convict, I led my group to a nearby restaurant for a briefing before tracking our target.

The menu: beef.

Since it was our first day, I let them choose.

“Ugh… sob… hic!”

Ye-jin cried as hard as she had in my arms, overwhelmed after her first bite, claiming it was delicious.

Other diners glanced at her in confusion.

I, along with So-hee and Da-yeon, ducked our heads in embarrassment.

Unfazed, Ye-jin let tears fall, too busy rescuing beef from the grill to wipe them.

She stuffed it in her mouth, swallowing after barely chewing—a process taking mere seconds.

“…Wow.”

Recovering from the awkwardness, I muttered.

“No one’s stealing it. Slow down, please.”

“I’m eatin’ fas’ ‘cause they’ll take it. You eat quick too, Professor!”

Her words slurred as she chewed.

Da-yeon, across from her, translated.

“She says she’s eating fast because it’ll get stolen. She’s telling you to hurry.”

“Good grief.”

Watching her shove half-cooked meat in her mouth, I couldn’t tell if she was human or tiger.

“Just order raw beef.”

Swallowing, Ye-jin shook her head.

“I learned beef tastes best with some blood left.”

“Who taught you… Never mind, that’s practically raw!”

As the bizarre conversation continued, the beef ran out.

“Eat as much as you want today, just don’t cry.”

“Really? I’ll make today my birthday!”

Ye-jin teared up again, touched.

Another reason to earn money—she vowed to bring the Dean and her siblings back here.

I signaled a waiter.

“Two more servings of ribs and sirloin. And a raw beef platter.”

The fresh meat sizzled on the grill.

So-hee, staring at the coals, suddenly checked the menu prices and whispered to me.

“This is too much, even for me!”

“What?”

“The bill! I’m barely scraping by! They’re in uniforms with name tags—we can’t dine and dash!”

Thwack!

I flicked her forehead.

Flipping meat, I said.

“I picked this place. You think I’d make you pay?”

“Really? But you were broke, mooching coffee off Ye-jin!”

Her skepticism was fair.

“Who’s broke?”

I was unfazed.

The Legal Department head would cover this as an expense, but I didn’t need to.

My deal with him lifted financial restrictions, letting me cash in some hidden assets, minus hefty fees.

Compared to my past wealth, it was pocket change, but enough for a meal without worry.

Though, at checkout, the bill’s sting made me chuckle wryly.

Outside, Ye-jin bowed deeply.

“Thank you for the meal!”

Her respect was palpable.

“That was amazing. Beef’s that good?”

For Ye-jin, whose beef experience was limited to seaweed soup or questionable cafeteria bulgogi, it was a revelation.

Smacking her lips, she asked.

“No outings on weekdays?”

“Your old personality was easier to deal with.”

“Haha, good one!”

Da-yeon clicked her tongue.

“You’re such a nuisance.”

“Come on!”

Ye-jin crossed her arms, glaring.

“You and I are only two bowls of naengmyeon apart. Acting prim, but I saw you scarf three pieces at once. Think fewer chopstick moves hide it?”

“I’m… not like you,” Da-yeon muttered, glancing at me for approval.

I snorted.

“Like you’re any better. You forgave me, so we’re done here.”

“Ugh…”

Da-yeon’s shoulders slumped.

“Meant to brief you over food, but you ate like it was a battlefield.”

I spread out a map.

“Expensive meal, so earn it.”

Clapping, I shifted the mood. The group snapped to attention, aware of our mission.

“If the target’s weak, I’d let you fight, but they’re tricky.”

They weren’t ready for direct combat.

“Watching won’t build experience either. So…”

I handed them pens.

“You two track this time. Let’s see your skills.”

Their eyes lit up, as if facing a test.

* * *

Tap-tap-tap.

In a dark alley at midday, a man sprinted frantically.

His breath was ragged, his heart pounding, but stopping wasn’t an option.

The freedom of escaping prison was gone, replaced by terror.

Gasping against a wall, sweat-soaked clothes clung to him, but discomfort was the least of his worries.

The alley, a maze of shadows, seemed empty, yet its silence was ominous.

His pursuer had tracked him effortlessly, shrugging off attacks with bare hands—not human, but a monster in human form.

Everything felt suspicious: cracked walls, trash heaps, the stench from sewers.

His pursuer toyed with him, letting him slip away repeatedly—not a chase, but a hunt, a game for amusement.

This wasn’t a hero.

Step, step—

Heavy footsteps dragged from beyond the wall.

Covering his mouth, I held my breath.

The sound grew closer, then faded.

Had I missed him?

He exhaled in relief, sliding down the wall, legs giving out.

He couldn’t return to prison, but this fear was unbearable.

He resolved to flee the country.

As he tried to stand—

A shadow loomed.

His head jerked up mechanically.

Hands in pockets, I stared down.

“Can’t run anymore?”

Backlit, my face was obscured, but a smile seemed to lurk.

Unable to answer, he froze as I drew my hand from my pocket.

“Then you’re useless.”

My approaching hand darkened his vision.

* * *

Dragging the unconscious escapee out, I was joined by the others.

Sitting on him, I asked.

“What’d you learn from this chase?”

“It’s tough,” Ye-jin said.

“Obviously, real life doesn’t follow textbooks or lectures,” Da-yeon added.

The forty-minute chase could’ve ended in three if I’d acted alone, but I followed their directions.

“You need to read the situation in real-time, predict the target’s moves based on their profile and info. It’s abstract, so experience is key.”

Checking the time, I mused.

“Got time. Maybe one more nearby.”

Waiting for Legal Department pickup, we chatted until—

“Tch.”

I grabbed Da-yeon and So-hee’s collars, pulling them back, and barked at Ye-jin.

“You, stay put.”

Something crashed onto So-hee’s car.

Boom!

The impact crumpled it, scattering debris.

“Bung-bung!”

So-hee’s anguished cry echoed.