NOVEL WEB Ch. 81
Chapter 81: Power
Hearing my voice, Da-yeon and Ye-jin scrambled to the stairs.
Their excitement was palpable—flushed faces, uneven breathing, hands hidden behind their backs.
I smirked at them.
“Already picked something, huh?”
They nodded in unison.
Da-yeon brought forward a large cylindrical case, two bundles of fifty arrows each.
She hugged it like a treasure.
“I like these.”
“Good arrows,” the worker, tidying the furnace area, said.
“Last year’s cutting-edge tech—”
Da-yeon cut him off.
“No explanation.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Come on. Light and sharp enough. What’s with the tech talk?”
I reached for the case, trying to grab an arrow, but Da-yeon spun away, hiding it.
“It’s a secret.”
The final exam would likely pit them against me, full-throttle.
These arrows were her trump card.
“Buying them just to betray me?”
I muttered, incredulous, but a faint smile crept in.
I got it—cute, even.
Turning to Ye-jin, I asked?
“You too?”
She grinned awkwardly, keeping her hands hidden.
“Get ready to be shocked.”
“Sure thing.”
Waving her off, I glanced at So-hee, standing apart.
“You didn’t pick anything?”
She tapped the floor with her toe, hands behind her back.
“All too brutal for an office worker like me. If I had to choose, I’d rather… Never mind.”
Her resentful glare hit me.
“Why so grumpy? Fine, lunch is your call.”
“Not grumpy!”
Ye-jin scanned me, noticing something.
“Forget your bag?”
“Nah, leave it with them.”
Turning to Rodrigo, descending the stairs, I said.
“Their picks—throw those in as a bonus?”
Rodrigo nodded, uneasy.
He didn’t know their choices, but the display items were similarly priced.
Even with custom tweaks, it was negligible compared to my payment and his pride.
Ye-jin latched onto So-hee, who held lunch veto power.
“Teacher? Lunch? We worked up a sweat—nothing beats meat.”
“Always meat with you.”
“Grew up hungry.”
“Hey! Watch it!”
They bickered pointlessly, heading outside.
I stopped, turning to Rodrigo.
Our eyes met.
I pointed two fingers at my eyes, then at him, before folding them, leaving my thumb up, slicing it across my throat.
With that threatening gesture, I left the forge.
* * *
Monday, first period.
My class was the toughest among Clington’s hundreds.
Checking the time, I slung my stick over my shoulder.
“Let’s wrap up for today.”
Students collapsed instantly.
“Ugh, I’m dying.”
“Save me…”
Groaning, they vented pain.
Burning weekend stamina in my Monday class never got easier.
Yet, amid the complaints, no one quit.
They felt real, tangible growth.
As they caught their breath, I glanced at the stick’s lone leaf.
From afar, it looked fine, but up close, its veins were scratched.
No one had knocked it off yet, but it was only a matter of time.
At this pace, one or two would succeed by semester’s end.
Tapping the floor with the stick, I mused.
“Finals are coming.”
Heads shot up.
No matter how tough, this wasn’t ignorable.
Trembling hands grabbed phones, hitting records.
“As I’ve said, the final’s like real combat, but simple.”
I raised an empty hand, counting fingers.
“Basic communication, situational awareness, prioritizing tasks, mobility to act, leadership to control, and raw combat power.”
With each condition, their faces darkened.
“The core skills for a hero. I’ll check how balanced your hexagon is in real scenarios.”
I called these six “basic,” as if obvious.
Undeniable essentials, but testing all six?
Brutal.
“Individually, you can’t show half of these skills. So, the final’s a team exam.”
“And teams will be random.”
They stirred.
My relentless teaching hinted at this, but random teams were a shock.
Seemingly simple, but in modern hero society, communication trumped the other five.
Performing above average with anyone mattered more than excelling with a fixed partner.
“Your reactions prove why teams are random.”
My early-class intensity silenced objections.
“That’s it. Drug users from last time, get retested at the infirmary and text me the results.”
* * *
After class, I headed to the Dean’s office.
Things were quiet lately, then boom—trouble.
The Dean’s office meant incidents, giving me a headache every time.
No knock, I walked in. Se-ah, now a regular, lounged on a sofa, waving her foot at me.
“You stink.”
“Do not!”
Sitting beside her, fuming, I asked?
“What’s up?”
The Dean, grave, said.
“The Association got intel. The Organization and The Sun—no, Eclipse—clashed.”
My bored expression sharpened.
“Yeah?”
“Eclipse’s fighting style’s distinct.”
He handed me a report.
“Traces show he used Solar Armor and Corona Burst.”
Flipping through, I said.
“If that’s all, they didn’t see his real power.”
Less than 40% of his strength.
No Black Sun.
But reading further, I looked up, surprised.
“Not exaggerated because he turned into a villain?”
“No way.”
“Hard to believe. This blood loss isn’t minor.”
The report estimated Eclipse’s serious injury.
“Their analysis says the enemy was worse off, but it’s not negligible.”
A pure one-on-one fight, too.
“This is the Organization’s boss level?”
I sighed, flipping pages.
Not just a strong S-rank.
Even with Eclipse’s nighttime power drop, he could handle three or four S-ranks easily.
I raised the Organization’s threat level in my mind.
Checking the report’s end, I clicked my tongue.
“They fought hard, but both walked away?”
One death would’ve simplified things.
“Now I know why it’s been quiet.”
“Two months to heal, then they’ll move again,” the Dean said.
“Annoying.”
Grumbling, he added.
“Oh, we found the Academy’s info leaker.”
“Really?”
I leaned forward, eager.
Since semester started, I’d suspected a leaker.
The Dean agreed after talks, and we quietly tracked them.
It was sensitive, so I got no updates, but finally—
“From my suspect list?”
“Professor Kang Dae-soo. He leaked.”
I frowned.
Who?
It sounded familiar.
Se-ah piped up.
“Union.”
“Oh.”
I nodded, remembering.
“That burly professor.”
Enhancement Department deputy head.
Met at a union event, and I’d pegged him as suspicious.
The Dean, hands behind back, sighed.
“Never thought he’d do that. Shame.”
“What, because he was diligent as a hero, had a solid record, top Academy eval?”
He froze, shocked.
“How’d you know?”
My intel surprised him.
I snorted, nodding at Se-ah.
“Our union chair said the same. I defended him when I called him out.”
The Dean gaped at her.
“Professor Seong Se-ah, you too?”
“Uh, yeah… a bit.”
She blushed, embarrassed.
He hadn’t suspected Kang.
I was baffled.
“You didn’t either?”
“Had other suspects, but him?”
“You guys trust too easily.”
I waved my hand in front of my face.
“His face screamed traitor.”
“Enhancement types are upright but weak to temptation—”
“What nonsense. He’s just rotten. Face science is real; Trait MBTI’s hogwash.”
Spoken like an old man.
“So, what happened to him?”
“Handled legally. You won’t see him here again.”
“Then not a big deal.”
The Dean nodded, agreeing.
It wasn’t urgent enough for now.
The real issue came next.
He sat across from me.
“You know he was the Enhancement deputy head?”
“Vaguely recall.”
Union, higher than a regular professor—deputy head, right?
“Now it’s vacant.”
Pointing at me, he said gravely.
“I’m recommending you.”
“…Huh?”
I blinked, dumbfounded.