Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 125: Resolve

Despite two people being in the room, it was silent.

A stillness hung in the air, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock’s second hand and the distinct sound of the other’s heartbeat.

Lukewarm breaths brushed against each other’s faces, dissipating.

In the dim room, faint moonlight filtered through the window, softly illuminating the space.

The light caught Ji-an’s red hair, making it flicker like dancing flames with every slight movement of her head.

After a long, wordless gaze, Hocheol spoke first.

“You…”

His voice, slightly hoarse, scolded Ji-an.

“I told you not to sneak into my room at dawn.”

Ji-an was currently shuttling between the Intelligence Department and the Legal Department, providing statements and information about her past crimes.

The volume was vast, and the verification process tedious, so she’d need to keep at it for weeks.

Yet her registered address was right next to Hocheol’s dorm.

This was partly due to Hocheol’s demand for her minimal freedom, but also because neither the Legal Department, Intelligence Department, nor the Hero Association wanted her living in their facilities.

She was a minor, so Zero—Chain wasn’t an option, and the only restraint was a regular pair of handcuffs without a trait suppressor.

For the first few days after moving, she’d sneak into Hocheol’s place after spying his passcode, only to get thoroughly scolded.

Lately, she’d seemed to behave, but—

“But…”

Ji-an trailed off, avoiding his eyes.

Then she looked back at him.

Her gaze was filled with nothing but concern.

“You didn’t look okay today… Are you alright?”

“Why? Do I look off?”

Ji-an nodded silently.

His sharper-than-usual reaction was itself proof he wasn’t okay.

“I see.”

Hocheol closed his eyes without a word.

Not to sleep—he just forced them shut.

Even the dean had noticed something was off.

If Sohee, sensitive to his state, picked up on it, there was no way Ji-an wouldn’t.

Unlike Sohee, who chalked it up to a bad day, Ji-an, a recent villain, sensed more.

What she felt from him today was closer to a villain than a hero.

Not just malice—his resolve and determination mirrored those of certain driven villains.

They’d stop at nothing for their goals.

The most recent ‘driven villain’ she’d seen was none other than Eclipse.

Looking at his closed eyes, Ji-an whispered softly.

“No matter what happens from now on.”

It was still just a hunch.

But she was half-certain.

In this state, Hocheol could become someone entirely different.

If he abandoned everything he’d built and chose another path, he’d part ways with the dean, the students, Se-ah, even Sohee—not just as allies, but as enemies.

But no matter what he was grappling with or what choices he made, she’d be his unwavering ally.

That wouldn’t change.

“I’m on your side.”

A declaration filled with unshakable faith.

Hocheol slowly opened his eyes.

Ji-an leaned closer, now barely a handspan away.

Her eyes reflected his, and his hers.

After a moment’s thought, he asked.

“If… your friend could be brought back to life, how would you feel?”

“That’d be great.”

She answered instantly, no hesitation.

“No matter the cost?”

“Well… probably, if it’s reasonable.”

Her friend was dear enough to risk her life for.

But Hocheol’s vague ‘cost’ made it hard to answer definitively.

In her past, she might’ve risked everything, but now… she felt sorry for her friend, but no.

“What if the cost was the lives of those around you? No, that’s too extreme. What if it meant giving up everything you’ve built?”

“No way.”

Ji-an answered immediately.

Everything she’d built included her bond with Hocheol.

“Then…”

Knowing it was rude and cruel, Hocheol didn’t stop.

“What about me? If I were dead, what was the cost to bring me back?”

Ji-an’s expression turned grave. If his odd behavior today tied to this question, ominous thoughts filled her mind.

“…Are you about to die?”

“No. Just continuing the chat. Dawn’s when nonsense comes up, right?”

“Of course I’d bring you back. Honestly, I still don’t get why other people’s lives matter so much.”

If her friend was worth her life, Hocheol was worth more.

“You think so too, huh.”

Hocheol muttered softly.

A simple chat, sure.

But to him, it carried far more weight.

“When I was looking for you, I didn’t care about means or methods. But now…”

Ji-an fidgeted with her fingers on the bed.

“I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

“If you died with regrets and wanted to live no matter the cost, maybe. But if not…”

If she hadn’t met Hocheol and found him dead, she’d have done anything to bring him back, per his question.

But not now.

“I know what face you’d make if you came back and saw me.”

“More than anything.”

“More than anything, you wouldn’t be happy. You said it yourself—give what they want, not what you want to give. And you wouldn’t want that.”

Thud—

His eyes widened more than ever.

Even a hammer to the head wouldn’t hit this hard.

The shock was beyond that.

“I forgot I even said that.”

His foggy mind cleared.

Not just because he’d woken up.

“What a mess.”

Morals, beliefs—yet shaken by a tiny temptation.

Could borrowed morals and beliefs fail to uphold even what he preached?

Self-loathing surged.

But only for a moment.

These wretched thoughts were just thoughts.

Even if their essence was pure ‘evil,’ a right choice in that moment could undo it.

“You okay?”

Ji-an asked again.

The same question, but his answer was different.

“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

He smiled lightly.

Ji-an smiled back.

Honestly, she didn’t care what changed his heart.

That her words gave him strength was enough.

That alone was joyful.

“Then.”

Hocheol spread his arms, pulling Ji-an into a hug and flipping her over.

“Eek—!”

Caught off guard, she was pinned to the bed.

She let out a small squeal, though there was no real surprise.

She’d seen his every move from the start.

Her cry was filled with anticipation.

Was this…?

Now lying where Hocheol had been, with him atop her, Ji-an tried to calm her racing heart and quietly closed her eyes—a signal she wouldn’t resist whatever came next.

But no matter how long she waited, her expected scenario didn’t unfold.

Rustling sounds came from afar.

Opening her eyes, she saw Hocheol by the wardrobe, pulling on clothes.

Ji-an threw off the blanket she’d pulled to her chin.

“Ajussi?”

He turned his head briefly.

“Oh, heading out for a bit.”

“Where?”

“Got some business.”

Technically, he was the one stirring up trouble, but it was all the same.

As long as he wasn’t swayed by the daytime offer, they were just villains grating his nerves.

And they’d disturbed his sleep with that nonsense.

They’d pay dearly.

Dressed, Hocheol grabbed his phone.

At this late hour, a call or even a text would be a nuisance, but he didn’t care and hit the call button.

After a few calls, he spoke to Ji-an, still watching him.

“And you, get some sleep. You’re still growing. Staying up like this at dawn?”

“Ugh.”

Ji-an thought of Sohee, her next-door watchdog.

She couldn’t find words to retort.

* * *

Past midnight, deep into the early hours.

Five people, including Hocheol, gathered in the dean’s office.

Such a crowd in his private office was unprecedented, especially since it wasn’t the dean’s call.

Normally, being summoned at this hour would spark complaints, but Hocheol’s grave demeanor silenced them.

He’d called the dean, Se-ah, and, surprisingly, Wolf Fang and Sohee.

Wolf Fang, with his villain experience, fit the meeting.

Sohee, however, felt out of place instinctively.

But Hocheol’s next request clarified why she was there.

She was the association’s proxy—specifically, the Legal Department head’s.

She clutched two phones, one on a call, the other side’s voice more than qualified for this group.

“Everyone’s here, and you seem awake enough.”

His sharp gaze made Wolf Fang flinch.

“Let’s get to it. Hero, association, hunter, villain—doesn’t matter.”

Leaning forward in his chair, he clasped his hands.

“Resurrection. Any info, rumors, anything?”

“Resurrection? What kind?”

Brain-dead Awakened or cardiac arrest patients coming back were common back-alley rumors.

Hocheol clarified.

“Not brain death or that. Clear death. Reviving someone dead over ten years. Not just revival—resurrection. That’s all I care about.”

“Why suddenly that?”

Wolf Fang asked, puzzled, but the dean and Se-ah answered instantly.

“Nothing.”

“Not at all.”

Realizing it wasn’t his place to question, Wolf Fang added belatedly.

“Me neither.”

[No related info here either.]

Se-ah trudged over and placed a hand on Hocheol’s head.

“What’s got you so grim, like you’re about to eat someone? Heard you trashed a café today.

That's it?”

Hocheol explained the day’s events.

At first, the four thought it was just another villain incident, but hearing their offer, they were shocked.

Life and death, revival and resurrection—the only constant in a trait-driven society that defied physics.

A rumor alone could collapse society, far beyond Hocheol’s potential betrayal.

“I was tempted. Who doesn’t have someone precious? If it’s really possible…”

Hocheol covered his mouth with his clasped hands.

Even Se-ah, playfully ruffling his hair, stiffened and lowered her hand.

The dean scratched over his eyepatch.

“So that’s the strange vibe I got from you. You didn’t mention it then, so you’d already made up your mind?”

“Yeah. Professor or not, I thought about backstabbing. If it was possible, it’d be worth it.”

A chill ran down everyone’s spines.

Despite his calm tone, his mention of betrayal carried a chilling intensity.

“But not anymore. I’m clear now. I gathered you to collect info, but also to confess. Judge me, curse me, whatever.”

No one could condemn him.

Not flimsy morals or petty justice—in the face of harsh reality, hero or villain didn’t matter.

He hadn’t actually betrayed, just thought it.

Hocheol waited.

But with no one speaking, he leaned back in his chair.

“If you’re not gonna curse me, let’s move on. They approached me claiming to be fans, but that’s nonsense. It’s not just me—other villains, no, not just villains. Heroes too.”

Heroes with high moral thresholds were unlikely to join villains.

The problem was their offer trumped morality.

Reviving loved ones?

Even the greatest hero would waver.

The biggest issue—

Hocheol turned to Se-ah.

“Hunter-to-villain conversion rate. Less than 0.1%, right?”

“Barely a handful a year. Mid-tier hunters earn way more than villains… Oh, crap.”

Se-ah realized the gravity, letting out a curse.

This wasn’t just about heroes and villains.

Hunters stayed legit because villainy wasn’t profitable.

But now, even they weren’t safe.

If someone like Hocheol, with a lost loved one, was at risk, heroes and hunters alike were high-risk for turning villain.

“Um…”

Sohee raised a hand timidly.

“What if they lied to recruit Hocheol?”

“If they thought I was just an ex-villain professor, maybe.”

Her point, sadly, had little chance.

“They know who I was as a villain. They wouldn’t pull that stunt. I’d kill them all. It’s all loss, no gain.”

Wolf Fang, knowing Hocheol’s past better than anyone, nodded vigorously.

Hocheol spoke to Sohee’s phone.

“Can you quietly compile a list of heroes and hunters in my situation?”

A groan came from the Legal Department head.

[This is the worst.]

They hadn’t caught all the escapees, and now this absurdity.

No choice—this took priority.

The societal impact dwarfed Eclipse or Ji-an’s cases.

[I’ll start the list.]

“Fast and quiet. Tell me when you find their location.”

Hocheol stood.

“This isn’t about legal or illegal. We bury them deep.”

So deep they’d never resurface, in light or shadow.

* * *

After the brief meeting, on the way back to the dorm, Se-ah, walking ahead, stopped suddenly.

Turning, she blocked Hocheol’s path.

“We need to talk.”

“Important?”

“Dunno.”

She crossed her arms, answering curtly.

“It’s important to me. Maybe not to you.”

Her words aside, her expression was dead serious. Sohee, reading the room, yawned.

“I’m sleepy. I’ll head back.”

As she left, Se-ah nodded toward a bench under a nearby streetlamp.

“This won’t be quick. Let’s sit.”