Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 37: Island (2)

The wolf charged with ferocious momentum.

Its sharp teeth gleamed between its wide-open jaws.

Just as it aimed to tear into my throat, I leaned back.

The wolf’s body grazed just above me.

Balancing on one leg, I kicked its jaw with all my strength.

Crack—!

But the wolf, landing on the ground, shook off the impact with a mere toss of its head.

“Tch.”

I clicked my tongue.

I lightly tapped the ground with my toe.

It wasn’t just that I wasn’t in top condition; the resistance I felt under my foot was considerable.

The moment I kicked its jaw, it was like striking a solid rock—no, an entire mountain.

It’s recovered a lot in ten years.

At this level, even a middling A-rank wouldn’t leave a scratch.

As I gauged the difference in strength, the wolf crouched, bristling its fur.

Then, it shot out its stiffened hairs like projectiles.

“Damn it.”

Caught off guard, I raised my arm to shield my eyes.

It’s not a porcupine, what the hell is this?

After that, the wolf kicked rocks from the ground at me, howled to assault my eardrums, and unleashed a barrage of attacks I hadn’t anticipated at all.

If these were some kind of new ultimate move, I might’ve been impressed.

But this parade of utterly bizarre, baseless techniques left me bewildered.

“This crazy thing is messing around. It’s bringing out my old temper.”

The wolf, having disoriented me, charged again, closing the distance in an instant.

Raising one leg high, it aimed to crush me.

I didn’t dodge or block.

I just stared at it.

The wolf’s attack landed squarely on the crown of my head.

Boom—!

A massive crater formed around me.

But I casually pushed the paw off my head.

“You know this is pointless for both of us.”

We both knew too well that our physical durability far outstripped our attack power.

To settle this, only a full-force strike to a vital point would do.

More importantly, a prolonged war of attrition would only hurt me.

I came here to adjust the gate’s environment, but if I kept wearing down the gate’s core beast, even if I subdued it, I wouldn’t be able to tweak the settings.

Whether I exhausted it through a long fight or killed it outright, either way, it’d be my loss.

Better to subdue it before wasting more energy.

I raised my hand and beckoned with my index finger.

“If you’re a beast, act like one. Stop scheming and come at me.”

Perhaps provoked by the word “beast,” the wolf roared and charged.

Determined not to repeat its earlier mistake, it lowered its body and aimed for my right arm.

I clenched my fist.

A sinister, dark red aura flickered around it.

Its sharp teeth gleamed as its jaws opened wide.

Just as my fist and the wolf were about to collide.

In an instant, the wolf’s body blurred.

Teleporting behind me, it clamped down hard on my defenseless left arm.

The wolf bit down with enough force to sever my arm.

Its razor-sharp teeth and jaw strength could snap steel beams in one bite—any awakened being would lose an arm if caught.

But something felt off.

It should’ve torn through flesh, muscle, and bone.

Yet my forearm didn’t have a single scratch.

I just stared at it silently.

“That’s right. I knew you’d do that. In the end, you’d rely on your most confident move.”

I raised my other hand.

“And you know what I’m about to do, don’t you?”

The panicked wolf opened its jaws to pull back, but its firmly locked jaw wouldn’t budge.

I was already gripping its teeth.

It looked like the wolf was biting me, but in reality, I was holding it.

I swung the fist I’d been charging.

It struck the scar above its eye.

Thud—!

A pained scream echoed from its clenched jaws.

Blood dripped from my hand.

I kicked the wolf, sending it flying.

One hand was soaked in blood, the other in saliva.

Looking between my drenched hands, I frowned.

The blood gushing like a fountain had splattered all over me, making me look downright menacing.

“Ugh. Gross. Ugh, nasty.”

I shook my hands lightly to flick off the blood and raised my index finger.

It pointed at the still-unmarred scar over its other eye.

“Alright. You’ve still got one more hole to fill, don’t you?”

The wolf, crouched and shedding bloody tears, opened its mouth slightly.

“…That vicious fighting style. Damn it. It was really you.”

“What, you thought I was a fake?”

I let my shoulders slump, as if all the tension had drained out of me.

The menacing atmosphere from moments ago dissipated instantly.

If it had just come to its senses, there wouldn’t have been a need for a big fight in the first place.

What a hassle.

The wolf’s growling voice lacked intonation or emotion, but somehow, it conveyed a sense of grievance.

“Your scent’s weaker now. Your voice isn’t like it used to be either.”

“You thought I was a fake and that’s why you got so cocky?”

“That wasn’t the only reason. The you I knew would never have spoken to me like that.”

I walked toward the wolf and tapped its snout with my palm.

“That’s why I thought a fake wasn’t even worth talking to.”

“Ugh. Your personality’s still as rotten as ever.”

As I spoke, I wiped the blood and saliva off on its fur.

“You’ve changed.”

The wolf muttered, recalling my past.

Ten years ago, the Ho-cheol in its memory was a man who always reeked of blood.

Every time we met, he carried the scent of someone else’s blood, and the chilling voice that came from his mouth made you wonder what kind of life he’d lived.

When I casually greeted it earlier, it wasn’t just paranoia that made it think I was a fake.

The Ho-cheol in its memory would never have acted like that.

Back then, I was more beast than it, utterly detached from humanity.

“I can’t believe that human from back then is you.”

“Well, it’s been nearly ten years. If I was still the same, that’d be a problem, wouldn’t it?”

“Time doesn’t matter. What matters is the catalyst. What changed you?”

I waved my hand dismissively, cutting it off.

“Save the old-fashioned redemption story for when we’ve got time. Now that you’re back to your senses, shall we get to the point?”

I’d left greeting the students to Se-ah, but it’d look better if I got there first to wait for them.

“…What do you want? The settings were already made by you, weren’t they?”

“Back then, I set it up for intruder defense. Now, I want to tweak the gravity distribution and a few other things for the kids’ training.”

“Kids? Training?”

For a moment, the wolf doubted its ears.

It was hard enough to accept that I’d changed, but the words I’d just used were so bizarre they caused cognitive dissonance.

From a mere gate core gaining a “self,” a “body,” and a “purpose,” this was probably the most shocking moment.

I tapped its snout again to snap it out of its daze.

“Stop zoning out. Let’s reset the settings.”

Time dilation, gravity distribution, atmospheric composition ratios.

Normally, even a gate core couldn’t freely manipulate the gate’s environment.

But having surpassed Stage 3 erosion and gained a body and self, this core could slightly bend the physical laws within the gate.

At one point, it had been intoxicated by that power, feeling like a chosen being or even a god.

Now, it was in this state.

The wolf, silently listening to my specified settings, asked?

“Is this an order?”

“No, a request.”

“You know I don’t have the right to refuse. Calling it a request—is that just mockery, or…?”

“I told you. I’ve changed.”

I reached out again and rubbed its snout.

This blood just won’t come off, will it?

“I’m actually grateful you’re complying with my request so willingly.”

The wolf let out a deep sigh and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

It turned back to its original spot.

Like when we first met, it curled up and lay down, looking asleep at a glance, but I knew it was adjusting to the gate’s environment.

The space around the wolf was already starting to shift slightly.

“Alright, I’m off.”

Seeing the wolf focused, I waved lightly and turned away.

“Later, should I bring you a bone or something?”

No reply came.

But the slight wag of its tail as it lay there suggested it wasn’t entirely opposed.

“It’s really become a beast.”

* * *

I descended from the mountain’s summit and arrived at the beach destination.

The sandy shore was quiet.

Glancing around, I muttered briefly.

“Didn’t think there’d be not a single one.”

It was the expected outcome, but I’d hoped for a surprise twist, so I was a bit disappointed.

Still, as expected of a professor, Se-ah was sitting on a nearby rock.

She flinched at the sight of my blood-soaked state but quickly returned to her usual expression.

“Did you deal with the core?”

Having confirmed through her traits that there were no dangers in the forest, she let it slide.

If there’d been even a hint of a threat to the students, she’d have smashed the core and cleared the gate herself.

“Yeah. The erosion progressed more than I thought, so I purified it a bit too.”

Even if some students obsessed with the mountain went up for a “forest bath,” they wouldn’t encounter the core.

“By the way.”

I checked the time.

“Eighty-three minutes. The time limit’s long gone, and not a single one’s here. All I can do is sigh.”

“How could students navigate this island’s forest in an hour?”

Se-ah shook her head at my scathing assessment.

“I told you it was an impossible condition for their level.”

Crossing the forest to reach the beach in an hour wasn’t just about good navigation or stamina.

The muddy paths that sucked you in, the hot and humid environment, the jungle-like overgrowth, and the tricky terrain demanded constant compass checks.

The gravity and atmosphere weren’t as forgiving as the outside world.

Using traits at full power to overcome these discomforts was a bad move.

It might feel fine for the first ten minutes, but traits unadjusted to the gravity would burn too much energy, leading to a quick loss of focus.

Exhausting all traits would amplify the physical strain several times over.

Even basic navigation required delicate balance, flexible trait use, and precise energy control.

But my stance remained firm.

If it was just one person, sure, it’d be impossible.

But there were 43 of them.

If they’d pushed through together, they could’ve easily made it in an hour.

“No. If they’d cooperated, conserved stamina sequentially, and supported each other, an hour would’ve been plenty.”

Their lack of skill, will to solve the problem, and cooperation was what I couldn’t stand.

“Guess I need to push them harder.”

How much longer did we wait?

A rustling sound came as a student emerged from the bushes.

They looked far more haggard than at the start, clearly having struggled.

I checked the time again.

One hour and 53 minutes.

Twice the time limit.

Starting with that student, others gradually arrived at the beach.

It took two and a half hours for all the students to gather.

They lined up by arrival order, sitting on the ground, half-collapsed.

They were too exhausted to admire the island’s or beach’s beauty.

They couldn’t even rest properly, sneaking glances at me.

Not only had they failed to arrive within the time limit, but my expression was worse than ever.

The bloodstains on my clothes and body made the atmosphere even heavier.

“Really…”

I paused and sighed.

Covering my eyes with my hand, the cold glint in my gaze peeked through my fingers.

“If you’d built a cooperative system, you could’ve made it here in an hour. And yet, just because I dangled the word ‘first-come,’ you chose to go solo.”

A self-deprecating mutter slipped out with my sigh.

“Losing all sense of cooperation when faced with a challenge. This isn’t just failing as heroes—you’re barely even human. And the results aren’t even good. If I were to score this, it’d be zero. I’m frustrated I can’t give you a negative answer.”

As my harsh evaluation continued.

Growl–

A loud sound echoed across the quiet beach.

All eyes turned to the source.

At the far left of the first-come line, Ye-jin, the last to arrive, clutched her stomach, her face bright red.

Realizing my mistake, I lowered the hand covering my eyes.

“Right. It was lunchtime. But a buffet? Honestly, I don’t even feel like handing out instant rice.”

I covered my mouth, pondering.

“But I can’t exactly let you starve either.”

Of course, I wasn’t actually deliberating.

This was all part of the planned schedule.

If they’d cooperated and delivered satisfactory results, I’d have gone with Plan A: a real buffet.

But they kicked that opportunity away themselves.

I pointed irritably between the forest and the sea.

“Forage your own food and eat.”

At my declaration, the students instinctively realized: there was never a buffet, was there?

No, there definitely wasn’t.

I’d known they’d all be late and thrown out an empty promise.

But they couldn’t call it out or demand the buffet, so they got up, formed small groups, and headed to the forest or sea.

At the very least, fish or fruit were abundant.

But for city kids who’d lived their whole lives in urban areas, how could they fish or forage barehanded?

After over an hour of grueling effort, all they had were a few tiny crabs, some clams, and unripe fruit.

Just as they thought they’d eat what they had, they realized too late.

Forget cooking—there wasn’t a single cooking tool.

They’d spent an hour diving, climbing trees, and digging, only to waste their energy.

Augmentation traits already had poor physical efficiency.

Having used their traits heavily and for so long today, they urgently needed to refuel.

But starving like this, their hunger was so intense it was painful.

Sitting on a chair I’d gotten from somewhere, reading a book, I checked the time and stood.

“Mealtime’s over. Everyone, assemble.”

Looking at the ragged students, I said,

“You’ve rested enough and eaten your fill, I assume.”

Anyone with eyes, ears, or a shred of empathy—hell, anyone with a human heart—wouldn’t have said that.

Yet I remained unfazed.

Uncrossing my arms, I smiled for the first time.

But it didn’t take long for them to grasp the meaning of that smile.

“Let’s loosen up a bit to help digestion.”

I pointed to a distant rocky outcrop.

“This isn’t about cooperation—it’s real competition. Race to that outcrop and back. Top three.”

Three hours after arriving on the island, they finally realized the truth.

This wasn’t a membership training trip.

It was hell.