Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 49: Preparation (2)

A brief silence hung between us.

[You’re right.]

Despite his effort to stay composed, the dean’s voice over the phone carried an undeniable heat.

I’d been stressed by the recent villain attacks, but the dean was the one truly pissed off.

I could focus solely on protecting the students, ignoring political ties or financial losses, but the dean couldn’t overlook those secondary and tertiary priorities.

If we could pay back even half the damage we’d suffered, it’d be ample revenge.

With a hint of eager anticipation, he asked,?

[So, what’s your plan?]

I circled the fountain.

“Without knowing their base or exact timing, striking first is physically impossible. The best we can do is prepare to counter. First…”

I stopped mid-sentence, my gaze falling to the watch on my wrist.

Whether the association hadn’t noticed or was deliberately silent, I was half-convinced they had a spy from the organization within their ranks.

Even if, miraculously, there wasn’t, information could leak through some channel, so caution wouldn’t hurt.

After choosing my words, I continued.

“You know what you’re good at. We each do what we’re best at—that’s the strongest defense.”

[That’s too vague.]

“It’s not complicated.”

I ended the call with a short remark.

“You’ll see.”

It was the dean, of all people—he’d understand without elaborate explanations.

* * *

The next morning, my new overseer, the team leader, knocked on my door early.

Opening it, I leaned against the doorframe, slanting my body.

“I’m fine with surveillance, but I don’t want interference.”

My curt tone made the team leader frown, but instead of reacting further, he pulled a fist-sized box from his pocket.

“Take it.”

“What’s this?”

Opening the box, a new watch gleamed under the light.

Its design was very similar to the one I was wearing.

“A new monitoring device.”

I’d just gotten a new watch days ago—why replace it?

As I stared at it, he explained.

“It looks similar, but its performance and durability are vastly different.”

Until now, the watch was a makeshift handcuff for a C-rank villain.

Since it was for controlling a mere C-rank, excessive budgeting wasn’t allowed.

But with my threat level upgraded, they had new justification.

Now, they could pour unlimited funds into controlling me without issue.

“This watch won’t even scratch unless hit by an S-rank attack.”

I looked at it, slightly surprised.

A watch that is tough?

I flicked it with my finger.

A clear metallic sound rang out, and the watch hummed.

I let out a small exclamation.

Shock absorption?

Or deflection?

Whatever it was, the watch itself had a trait applied.

And it didn’t feel like ordinary metal.

“Not your average watch.”

“Of course. The material’s anything but ordinary.”

Made from a special mineral mined only in gates, its durability meant even the dean poking it with a fork wouldn’t leave a mark, unlike the old one.

This wasn’t a makeshift watch—it was a proper shackle.

It even had a lock with a keyhole, signaling they had no intention of letting me remove it.

And it was all taxpayer money.

What a waste.

The team leader proudly listed the new watch’s specs.

New trait suppressant, surveillance functions, location tracking, and a lock mechanism.

If the old watch was the pinnacle of modern tech, this one pulled in futuristic tech I’d never heard of.

Did they really need to go this far?

“Unlike before, it completely bans trait use.”

For the first time, I showed open displeasure.

Setting a low output limit was one thing, but banning trait use entirely was different.

“That’s a bit much.”

“The difference between C and S. With such a high threat level, letting you use traits freely, even with a limit, would make the association look reckless. If you need to use it for lectures, let me know. We’re flexible enough for that.”

“As long as it’s not a total ban.”

I didn’t use my trait much outside class, so it wasn’t a big deal.

I raised my right hand and lightly tore off the old watch.

Crunch—

With a sharp sound, the shattered watch fell to the ground. I picked up the new one.

Clicking my tongue, I strapped it on.

“I’ll play along for now.”

“It looks like a watch, but it’s a shackle. And shackles…”

The team leader pulled a gleaming silver key from his pocket.

“…need a key. The only time you’ll take this off is when you’ve served your full sentence.”

“Not quite.”

I smirked, twisting my wrist.

“Maybe you’ll unlock it yourself.”

“That’ll never happen.”

His firm tone made me smirk again.

* * *

After the overseer left, I wandered the academy in casual workout clothes, the new watch on my wrist.

My usual range was limited—my lodging, a few department buildings, the faculty gym, the student cafeteria, and the convenience store.

But today was different.

I visited not just non-augmentation hero department buildings but unrelated ones like Support Item Engineering and Operator departments, roaming every corner of the academy.

At a glance, there was no pattern or purpose—just aimless wandering.

I wasn’t doing anything specific.

I’d check a map, walk, and occasionally stop to stand still for minutes, looking around.

Even the timing of my breaks was odd.

I’d go an hour without stopping or pausing after just three minutes.

When I rested, I stood for exactly one minute, no more, no less.

The surveillance gazes were still there, but I didn’t care.

They’d never grasp the meaning of my actions—it was just a simple stroll to them.

If the dean didn’t get it either, that’d be a problem, but I doubted it.

As I roamed the academy’s nooks and crannies—

“Hey, hi!”

Some students greeted me.

My fame has definitely spread since the last lecture.

Strangers greeting me was novel enough, but.

“Professor, are you only teaching one course next semester? Just one?”

Their casual questions were surprising, even shocking.

I didn’t realize it, but the academy’s interest in me was beyond imagination.

If my lecture’s time slot was less brutal, twice as many students might’ve audited.

The students who audited yesterday posted lengthy reviews on the academy’s community board.

Five of the top ten trending posts were about my lecture content; two were about my appearance.

Seeing an S-rank threat villain up close was like spotting a T-Rex in a playground.

If they weren’t curious, their sanity would be in question.

“I don’t plan to add more courses. This one’s already a lot.”

I walked slowly, answering their questions casually.

More questions followed, and one female student sidled up, asking?

“Professor, can we take a picture together?”

My expression hardened for the first time.

Kids these days are obsessed with SNS and photos, huh?

S-rank heroes weren’t idle enough to care, but I didn’t want to risk trouble.

I raised my hand firmly.

“No photos.”

The student looked disappointed, but what could I do?

A photo spreading outside the academy could cause real problems.

“I can give autographs instead.”

Unexpectedly, that hit a funny bone, and the surrounding students burst out laughing.

After signing autographs—honestly, they didn’t expect me to—they left, and I resumed wandering.

In front of an unfamiliar building, I ran into a familiar face.

“Oh, uh!”

Ye-jin’s eyes widened behind her glasses.

Dressed in casual workout clothes instead of her usual uniform, she bowed.

“Hi, Professor.”

“Hey, nice to see you out of the blue. Heading to a lecture?”

Straightening, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“No, my classes are done. I’m working now.”

“What work?”

She pointed to the building behind her.

“Turning off lights in empty lecture halls.”

Was that really worth paying students for?

I didn’t comment.

She seemed to find it rewarding and earned money, so I didn’t care much.

“Got it.”

Answering casually, I stared at her.

She really does look like her.

I’d been struck by it the first time we met, but with the dreams lately, I couldn’t help comparing.

Aside from glasses and hairstyle, it wasn’t just resemblance—it was uncanny.

In this bizarre world, I couldn’t rule out reincarnation, but their age gap wasn’t that wide.

It had to be a blood relation.

Her face overlapped too much with the one from my dreams. I’d checked through the dean, but there was no connection.

Still, I couldn’t shake the suspicion based on gut alone.

“…What’s wrong?”

Feeling my silent stare, Ye-jin defended herself, flustered.

“I didn’t give up being class leader for some big gain or ulterior motive! I just thought, from what I saw, she’s better suited for it. So…”

Her eyes spun, unsure of what she was saying.

I cut off her rambling.

“I know. You stepped down because you felt the gap in ability with Da-yeon.”

Her spinning eyes stopped.

With a wry expression, she muttered.

“You knew.”

“I’m not clueless. No need to feel inferior over the MT.”

Pouting, she scuffed the ground with her toe.

“Inferior? It’s not that…”

Her words said otherwise, but I’d hit the mark.

Her bowed head and faint voice were proof.

“When the other professor went down, I was ready to charge the villains. No matter how strong they were, a hero shouldn’t bow to their demands.”

She muttered glumly.

She’d believed that was right, that a hero should act that way—at least until the MT.

“But she was different. She gave up fighting immediately and prepared for what came next.”

Unlike Ye-jin, Da-yeon surrendered to the villains right away.

Not out of defeat—she chose sacrifice to minimize harm.

“A hero’s job isn’t to defeat villains but to protect those around them. I forgot that basic principle.”

I nodded.

“There’s a slight difference between someone else’s sacrifice and your own, but yeah, that was the right call then. You’re both students. So what if you didn’t know or messed up?”

Surprised by my unexpected response, she looked up.

Instead of a sharp critique, I spoke calmly, stating plain facts.

“You learned something important. The issue is repeating the same mistake. If you hold onto what you realized, you’ll become a great hero.”

“…Really?”

Her tense expression softened, and she gave a relieved smile.

“Thank you.”

“No need.”

I lightly patted her head.

Thud—

“Ow!”

Tearing up, she clutched her head.

The pain shot from her scalp.

“Ugh, sorry. Your hair got caught in my watch.”

“It’s fine. It happens.”

She smiled awkwardly, rubbing her head. It was an accident—what could she do?

Checking the time, she looked around, startled.

“Oh, my next class! I gotta go!”

“Study hard.”

As she left, I rolled a few strands of her hair into my pocket.

People could lie, but science couldn’t.