Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 38: Island (3)

Hunger, depleted stamina, a hot and humid environment, and a sandy beach that swallowed their feet with every step.

The endless running was more than enough to drive the students to mental exhaustion.

Even though I’d said it was a race for the top spots, I made even the first students to return to run laps again for being too slow.

In this extreme situation, someone gritted their teeth.

They tried to subtly activate their trait.

“Huh? What?”

Their trait wouldn’t activate.

No, it did, but maintaining it was harder than expected.

It wasn’t just a problem for activation-type traits.

Students with passive traits also struggled to run as their abilities malfunctioned.

They had no way of knowing that the glucose candy I’d handed out earlier, saying I couldn’t let them starve, was laced with a trait suppressant.

Of course, it wasn’t the harsh drug I was periodically dosed with.

It was a medical-grade suppressant used for anesthetizing awakened beings during surgery, so there was no need to worry about side effects.

While its effect wasn’t strong, it disrupted trait activation enough to make a difference in a situation like this.

The initial trip to touch the rock and return took less than a minute, but now, even after three minutes, they hadn’t made it halfway back.

Without their traits, the physical disparities were starkly evident.

The students were panting, half-dead, but none dared to stop or complain first.

Or rather, they couldn’t.

Right beside them, I ran at their pace, eyes wide open.

Whenever I noticed someone slowing down, I’d say.

“You’ve still got stamina. Pick up the pace.”

Who could slack off after that?

“Straighten your back. Put strength into your fingertips. Your form’s slipping.”

How long did we run like that?

I suddenly stopped.

“That’s enough.”

Judging by the state of the stragglers, pushing further would cross from training into torture.

The line between abuse and training was blurry.

Unlike other professors who could only vaguely sense that line through experience, I could accurately read their condition, allowing me to stop at the edge of training.

The students stopped, gasping for breath.

Some collapsed on the spot, barely clinging to consciousness.

“…Save me.”

Someone muttered.

Unlike them, my breathing was steady as I continued speaking.

“Let’s take a moment to introduce someone else.”

I raised my hand and pointed to a tent set up near the forest.

“That’s Se-ah, a professor of the manipulation type.”

Leaning against the tent, Se-ah casually raised a few fingers while keeping her arms crossed.

“She’s a professor and looks young, but she’s quite experienced, so don’t make any careless mistakes.”

The students, who’d been wondering who she was while running, nodded in understanding.

While they were running, Se-ah had set up a makeshift clinic with the supplies brought by the transport aircraft.

A red cross was attached to the tent’s entrance.

No student could miss that symbol.

They all noticed the field cots inside, whispering to themselves.

It looks like someone’s lying in there.

The shade inside made it hard to see clearly.

The students staring at the medical tent shared the same thought.

In their current state, couldn’t they claim to be patients and lie down in there?

As that thought lingered, someone stood and walked toward the tent.

Who was this bold soul?

It was Da-yeon.

Her steps quickened as she headed for the clinic.

“What, a patient…? Doesn’t seem like it.”

Everyone assumed Da-yeon was heading to the tent to rest on a cot, but Se-ah, meeting her gaze head-on, instinctively knew better.

She wasn’t coming to rest.

Da-yeon reached out.

Her target was Se-ah’s cheek, but this time, Se-ah was faster.

She slapped Da-yeon’s hand away.

“Not this time!”

Se-ah darted into the tent, poking only her head out and shouting firmly.

Back on the weekend, in her off-hours, she’d been lenient, but now she was on duty as a professor.

More importantly, letting her cheek be grabbed in front of so many students would surely damage her authority.

Da-yeon, her hand stopped, asked?

“No good?”

“Of course not! Not even with that look!”

Da-yeon clicked her tongue and backed off.

Someday, she’d definitely get her hands on those soft cheeks.

By now, the break time I’d announced was over.

“Everyone, up. Let’s wrap up the warm-up and start the afternoon schedule.”

The students' faces paled.

All this had just been a warm-up?

They already felt like they were dying.

More crucially, they’d overlooked something important.

I never used the word “training” normally.

Even personal trait tests or villain attacks were always called “lectures.”

The difference between training and lectures was something they couldn’t even guess at now.

Crossing my arms, I began an impromptu lecture.

“The power of a trait is largely the sum of output and proficiency. Both need to improve together for the trait’s strength to grow.”

Obvious theory, but it needed to be stated at least once.

“Up until now, our lectures focused on practical trait use, breaking psychological limits, and operational and adaptive skills in real combat. Those are all in the realm of proficiency.”

Compared to a month ago, their skills had improved dramatically.

“If you ask whether that means your trait output has increased, the answer is no. Numerically, the difference from your original specs is less than 10%. Barely noticeable. So, this MT will focus on boosting your output to catch up with your advanced proficiency.”

I uncrossed my arms and slowly clenched my fist.

“In fact, output training is essential for trait development, but it’s hard to implement at the academy. A few hours of lecture, followed by other classes, make this kind of extreme training physically impossible.”

As I tightened my fist, the muscles from my fingertips to my wrist, forearm, biceps, and triceps became sharply defined.

Not just the female students but the males let out small gasps of admiration.

Augmentation types surprisingly weren’t bulky.

Their muscles were so strong that even intense workouts didn’t tear fibers, so unless the trait specifically enhanced “muscle,” most were lean.

They knew how absurdly difficult it was to build muscles like mine.

“But today is different. We can push you to your limits, squeeze out every ounce of potential, and then throw you off a cliff.”

Training—rest—training—rest.

Cycling through this extreme regimen for three days would undoubtedly boost their specs.

“This curriculum is designed to elevate your output limits, activation speed, operational range, and duration—all by one level.”

I opened my notebook.

It was already over half-filled with detailed notes on the students’ specs and key points, recorded during lectures.

“I’ve already documented the maximum potential of your traits.”

Not from hitting scarecrows, but from observing their fights against villains and one-on-one spars with me.

“And depending on your trait, we’re aiming for a minimum 10% increase, up to 20%.”

The students, already dreading how much more pain and suffering awaited, widened their eyes at my declaration.

Last year, their first year at the academy, their numerical growth was barely 30%.

Moreover, traits grew slower the more they developed.

A 10% increase last year wasn’t the same as this year.

If, as I claimed, their output could rise by an average of 15% in just three days, they’d surpass their peers at the academy by over six months.

Though they thought it impossible, my resolute expression sparked a strange sense of anticipation.

From six weeks of watching me, they knew I wasn’t one to make empty promises.

If it was truly possible, this would yield more than any other lecture or training.

Despite my bold statement, I continued my explanation nonchalantly.

“Also, this training won’t categorize traits as passive, activation, or conditional. We’ll divide them by their specific forms.”

I waved the pen in my hand side to side.

“For traits with usage limits, we’ll push beyond those limits to expand their total capacity. Those called, move to the left.”

The students whose numbers I called shuffled to the left.

“For augmentation types that simply enhance the body, we’ll aim for balanced overall spec improvement. Those called, move to the right.”

Another dozen or so students moved to the right.

“For traits focused on specific areas, we’ll train those areas. Stay in the center.”

The remaining ten or so students stood still.

I added one final note.

“No matter how great or powerful a trait is, its foundation is steadfast effort.”

* * *

While I was sorting the students by their traits, something unusual happened in a corner of the forest.

A space shimmered like a mirage, and soon, black mist rose from the distorted air.

At first, it was only the size of a fingernail, but it grew until it was larger than a person.

Then, four figures stepped out.

Three men and one woman.

Their outfits varied, but the bent chrysanthemum brooch on each of their collars marked them as part of the same group.

The man at the front ran a hand through his hair.

“So this is the place. An MT. Clington’s got it good.”

His voice was as sharp as his piercing gaze.

“Ugh. This sticky feeling every time we move like this is gross. Doesn’t it smell a bit like oil?”

“Sssshhh. Haa… The air’s nice, though. Smells salty—must be a beach. An island, maybe.”

Despite the leader setting a serious tone, the others just said whatever came to mind.

Their carefree chatter might seem foolish, but their poised stances exuded an unsettling aura.

“Did you confirm S-1’s location?”

At the leader’s question, a man in glasses at the back fiddled with a tablet.

“First, let’s cross-check with existing info. Forty-three students. Two professors. One association staff.”

The screen showed 43 similarly sized circles, one slightly smaller, and one ten times larger.

Counting the circles, Glasses frowned.

“There should be 46 total, but… Hmm. Why are there only 45?”

Focusing for a moment, he sighed in relief.

“Oh, there it is, faintly. Forty-six. No variables. It’ll be hard to confirm the target directly with this, though. Visual confirmation’s probably best.”

“The professor with the target has sharp instincts, so don’t leave any clues until we act. Deploy the cube.”

“Yes, yes.”

Glasses pulled a small cube from his pocket and dropped it on the ground, crushing it underfoot.

A translucent cubic barrier enveloped them.

“We’re good now. This was made to counter detection-type S-rank heroes, so its performance is guaranteed.”

No matter how sharp my instincts were, I couldn’t possibly detect them through an isolated space like the cube from this distance.

The leader stroked his chin.

“So, analyzing the enemy’s forces: two A-ranks, 43 students, and one non-combat association staff.”

My official record was only C-rank, but based on the incidents around me and my responses, their organization had upgraded my threat level to A.

“Honestly, this doesn’t seem like a job that needs all of us.”

Glasses grumbled.

Two A-ranks were no small threat, but that was only in normal circumstances.

The four of them were elite operatives, top-tier in their organization.

Each excelled in their field, with exceptional combat skills and the ability to handle any situation.

But the leader just stared at the tablet seriously.

“It’s that important. Don’t let complacency cause mistakes or complications.”

“Yeah, I get it. With augmentation and manipulation trait combos, no number of small fry would matter. If we’re making a move, it’s with experienced elites, right?”

As the two talked, the largest man shouted irritably.

“Damn it, how long do we have to wait here?”

“Until headquarters gives the go-ahead.”

“My body’s itching to move!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“It’s a separate space, isn’t it? No sound’s getting out!”

“I’m telling you not to act recklessly.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed further, and the big man shut his mouth.

Though he complied due to the established hierarchy, his clenched fists showed his lingering frustration.

“Why so impatient?”

The woman, standing slightly apart, spoke for the first time.

With an ornate pipe in her mouth, she took a long drag.

Hoo—

Pink smoke mixed with her exhale, swirling around her.

The three men, without hesitation, covered their mouths and backed away from her.

Even the belligerent big man pressed himself against the cube’s wall in alarm.

“Damn it, warn us if you’re using your trait!”

“Don’t worry. This isn’t that dangerous. It’s still cute pink, see? The really dangerous stuff…”

She stuck out her tongue slightly.

The red aura at its tip made the villains, already a step back, retreat further.

“…is like this. Hehe.”

With a faint laugh, she hid her tongue back between her red lips.

Taking another drag from her pipe, she exhaled slowly.

“Now, shall we set the stage? The joy of hunting starts with waiting like this, doesn’t it?”

The smoke slowly sank into the ground and disappeared completely.