Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 76. Black Market (3)

I opened the door to the shop, and the interior looked much like any ordinary store.

But a faint drug odor lingered in the air, strong enough to dizzy an average person.

My brow furrowed instinctively.

Behind the counter, a man sitting on a chair spotted me and stood.

Setting down his book, he looked at me and said.

“Welcome. What brings you?”

I didn’t let go of the doorknob, just stared at the shopkeeper.

A few seconds passed.

Half-leaning in the doorway, I clicked my tongue, turned, and walked out.

Se-ah’s eyes asked what was up.

I shook my head.

“This one’s a bust.”

“How’d you know so fast?”

I held up my index and middle fingers, wiggling them alternately and tapping her nose.

“No money vibe. Kept staring at me, barely glanced at my clothes, treated me like some random customer. And his face—wrong.”

She gaped, incredulous.

“That’s it?”

“For criminals, that’s everything.”

“No way.”

Her eyes crossed, still rubbing her nose from my tap.

Grabbing my wrist with both hands, she bit my fingers hard.

“Ow!”

Rubbing the teeth marks, I headed to the second shop.

After a brief chat, I left without hesitation.

“Why this one?”

“Not cut out for drug dealing. His goal’s pure research—legal or not. Not the type to sell outside the black market.”

The third and fourth shops were crossed off for similarly trivial reasons.

Ignoring Se-ah’s skeptical look, I grabbed the doorknob of the fifth shop.

Creak, screech—

Praying for a hit, I pushed the door, and the warped wood and rusty hinges screamed.

The vibe was different from the others.

Dark, cramped, with metal shelves lining one wall, packed with bottles of various sizes.

How many were legal?

Poor ventilation left the air thick with hazy smoke, the chemical stench stinging my nose.

The shop’s state screamed it wasn’t customer-friendly, but I saw it differently.

No need for walk-ins meant other business channels.

The shopkeeper, wiping drug residue off a shelf, turned.

An old woman with a hooked nose stared at me.

Her initial annoyance shifted as her gaze landed on my clothes.

“Well, a rare guest.”

She grinned, showing sparse teeth.

“Rare guest,” my ass—her eyes screamed “sucker.”

My mental database of criminal faces flagged her as top-tier suspicious.

“You the owner?”

“Kuhuk. Of course.”

Hearing what I wanted, I stepped inside.

Tossing her rag aside, she asked in a raspy, metallic voice.

“Not often a guest visits this shabby shop. What’s your business?”

I tilted my head side to side.

“Came to a pharmacy for drugs. What else?”

Her eyes widened at the unexpected answer.

“Pharmacy! Kuhuk! Right! It’s a pharmacy! What else could it be? Stupid question!”

The prolonged talk drew Se-ah inside.

She grimaced, covering her nose with her sleeve.

“Disgusting smell.”

The owner laughed.

“Heehee. Sorry, no growth drugs.”

“What?”

Se-ah bristled at the jab at her height, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“Tch. Got it.”

She knew emotions had no place here.

I spoke instead.

“Not that. I heard about a drug popular with young Awakened. Boosts reaction speed, focus. Know it?”

Going in with “You’re the dealer, right?” was a bad move.

It’d spook her, maybe make her vanish.

The moment I mentioned the drug, her smug grin twitched—barely noticeable, but I caught it.

Jackpot.

“Something like that? Oh, I’ve heard rumors!”

She clapped, feigning ignorance, though her reaction screamed she knew.

“So, you’re interested? But even I can’t make the exact same stuff.”

“Doesn’t need to be exact. Close enough in ingredients, effect, price—that’s fine.”

“What’s it for? With your connections, you could get better stuff.”

Her sly smile didn’t hide her suspicion.

The drug circulating was cheap and accessible but lacked advantages.

For outsiders, it was all they could get.

For someone like me, who could reach this place, such limits were meaningless.

More money meant better drugs.

Suspicion was standard here.

Any hint of unease, and the deal was off.

My answer blew past her expectations.

“Drug business.”

“What?”

“I looked into it. The operation’s too sloppy for its scale. So I’m taking it over.”

Prepared with a perfect lie, my words carried no hesitation.

I snapped my fingers, thumb against middle.

“The profit’s solid for the effort. I’ve got distribution, sales, and accounting ready. I just need a supplier. Looking for a good pharmacist.”

My confidence made her smirk mockingly.

“It just looks good because small-timers run it. Big players step in, heroes sniff it out.”

I stayed calm.

“You think I’m not prepared? I said, "distribution to accounting—covered.”

I laid out my “plan.”

My explanation was seamless, no mere pipe dream.

A distribution system splitting drugs into components until sale, evading heroes and crackdowns, was overkill.

A cell-based network ensured minimal damage if a distributor got caught.

As I spoke, her lips dried with tension.

I was right—she was behind the Academy’s drugs.

Her current operation was a small-time hustle.

If my “enterprise” entered, she’d be crushed.

Hiding her nerves, she asked.

“Expanding’s nice, but stealing established clients won’t be easy.”

“Easy. Kill the current sellers. We’re selling similar stuff—clients won’t care.”

She gasped.

The black market’s drug trade was a red ocean.

She’d turned to the outside for easier pickings, outsourcing to money-hungry villains.

But my “dinosaur” changed everything.

Fifty to a hundred times the scale.

If I entered, the growth potential was limitless.

Her plan assumed success, likely built on existing smuggling routes.

Adding one product would be cheap and easy.

Her business could collapse in six months.

The silver lining?

“So, make me something like that drug?”

A new path.

Dropping from boss to supplier, but a bigger operation meant more profit.

I nodded.

“Talk got sidetracked. The point is, can you make it or not? If not, I’ll hit another shop.”

My bold willingness to walk away added credibility.

A man who’d do anything for money—her kind.

She dropped her guard.

“Kuhuk. No worries. Because that drug you’re talking about? I made it.”

My eyebrow twitched.

The first emotion I’d shown since entering.

Her confidence surged.

“Want to see the originals, not yet sold?”

“Not lying if it’ll get caught.”

“So, about the business split…”

I turned abruptly.

“Ugh, I finally got a confession.”

She froze, eyes wide.

“What?”

Confession?

What’s that mean?

“Beat her up.”

Ignoring her, I nodded at Se-ah.

She charged, launching a perfect dropkick that even I admired.

“You bastard!”

Crash!—

The owner flew, shelves collapsing, drugs spilling over her.

“Selling drugs to students?”

Se-ah stomped her.

“Got a coffin ready? If not, die anyway!!!”

Her relentless assault pummeled the owner.

Knocked out from hitting her head, the owner couldn’t resist.

Panting, Se-ah finally backed off, her anger spent.

A criminal, sure, but a normal person with no traits.

I hesitated, then lightly pressed my foot on the half-conscious owner’s neck.

I checked the spilled drugs’ names, pocketing a few—hallucinogens, relaxants, all highly addictive.

Opening a bottle, I forced her mouth open and poured them in.

Se-ah muttered, worried.

“All that? Won’t she die?”

She’d yelled for her death, but actually killed her complicated things.

“She won’t. These types build tolerance. Though death might be kinder.”

Her eyes rolled back, drooling, as I tossed the empty bottles aside.

“No need to clean up.”

Lunard would handle it—packaged and delivered.

I’d given them the Dean’s private warehouse address.

In a few hours, that cranky old man would deal with it.

“Just in case, let’s check the last two places.”

Se-ah’s eyes widened.

“What? She might not be the one?”

“If she lied for money, maybe. Doesn’t matter.”

“Why?”

“She’d do it again given the chance.”

“True.”

Heading to the sixth shop, a question hit Se-ah.

“You knew a lot about smuggling routes… No way, right?”

I didn’t answer, but my stiff expression made her jump.

“You sold drugs?”

“Not drugs. Similar stuff that way.”

Technically, drugs—monster-infused liquor, illegal moonshine.

Strictly banned, but the profits were astronomical.

“C-rank villain, huh? Monster moonshine?”

“Didn’t get caught.”

“Crazier are the idiots buying it!”

“People’ll drink bleach if it’s ‘good for stamina.’”

“Insane!”

Poked by her finger, I thought back.

Ten years ago, I’d built perfect routes.

So many people, so much money.

Not just crime—endless uses.

If half remained, it’d be gold.

But I dropped the thought.

Probably long gone.

* * *

At the next shop, I stopped suddenly.

My gaze fixed on a dark alley.

A ragged old man, indistinguishable from other beggars hiding in shadows.

But my eyes didn’t leave him.

Narrowing my gaze, I studied him.

“Wait.”

Stopping Se-ah, who was half a step ahead, I turned toward the beggar.

As I approached, his form emerged from the shadows.

Eyes bandaged, he played solo Go on a board, chuckling with each move.

He was in my memories—not recent, but from my villain days.

I muttered.

“Didn’t expect to see him here.”

Se-ah caught up, asking.

“Who? You know him?”

“Yeah.”

A man on newspapers, overlooking the world, wielder of the [Clairvoyance] Trait.

I’d heard he’d quit and vanished.

“You’ve heard of [Sage], right?”

“Sage? That beggar? The Sage?”

She gasped.

Not knowing him would be weirder.

An old name, unknown to newer heroes, but Se-ah wasn’t one.

Neither hero nor villain, yet his moniker meant massive influence over both.

Her shock came from elsewhere.

“Isn’t he just a national-level voyeur?”

“…Not wrong.”

I paused, then agreed.

His Trait wasn’t precise enough for personal lives but covered the entire nation.

“Voyeur” wasn’t entirely off.

With Clairvoyance, he could hide from anyone, so I’d lost interest when he vanished.

Yet here he was, openly a beggar in the black market.

Even as I approached, he leaned against the wall, focused on his game.

His turn for black.

As he pondered, I sat across from him.

Picking a stone from the container, I placed it, calling the spot.

“12, 6.”

He looked up, his bandaged eyes glowing golden.

“Well, who’s this?”