Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 79: Purple Glass Sword

I took off my glasses, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“Ugh, tough stuff.”

This wasn’t light reading—it was a specialized book for study.

Self-studying even one chapter a day was grueling.

“So much to memorize.”

My pen stopped as I leaned back.

Upside-down, I saw So-hee sprawled on my bed like she owned it.

I muttered, incredulous.

“How do you have time to lie around? Don’t you have counseling hours?”

“Heh. Posted my number on the office door. High-end counseling’s all appointments.”

Wrapped in blankets like a cocoon, she grinned smugly.

Her shamelessness left me speechless.

I tossed an eraser at her forehead.

“Ow!”

Turning back, I propped my chin.

“This peace feels weird.”

Months at Clington Hero Academy, and almost every week brought major incidents.

Was I the problem?

I’d wondered about that.

But the last few weeks were oddly calm.

Sure, escaped villains still caused trouble, but that was separate from me.

Plus, outside lectures, I had nothing to do.

My deal to catch escapees relied on the Legal Department tracking them, but they’d been quiet, probably swamped.

Rubbing her forehead, So-hee said.

“Quiet’s nice.”

“Sure, but it’s unsettling.”

Lee Byeong-hoo—no, [Eclipse] now.

Him and the Organization.

Too quiet.

Suspiciously so.

Time bombs are waiting to blow, making it hard to relax.

“Always complaining about hassle, but you’re itching for action?”

“Can’t deny it.”

I kept my senses sharp for the worst, and my body craved a real fight.

Where’s an S-rank villain when you need one?

“Hey.”

So-hee’s voice snapped me out of my daydream.

“Didn’t you have plans today?”

Checking the time, I stood.

“You’re right. Gotta go.”

A new month meant a fresh outing pass.

No reason to save it, so I’d use it now.

I could find excuses to go out, but I didn’t want to build distrust unless it was critical.

Seeing me rise, So-hee crawled off the bed, grumbling as she folded the blanket.

“Ugh, honestly, that no-driving rule’s pointless now, right?”

I was banned from driving any vehicle due to escape risks, so So-hee always drove.

Long trips were all on her, no wonder she complained.

I’d thought the same but stopped there.

“What can we do? Take it up with the higher-ups.”

“They’d ignore me. You’d need to push—they’d at least pretend to listen.”

“Nah, I’m good. Not driving’s easier.”

“Urgh!”

She twisted her body, making weird noises.

Fair, but it pissed her off more.

I crouched, pulling a black leather case from under the bed.

“What’s that?”

“A toy.”

“Make sense.”

Grumbling, she opened the closet, grabbing a shirt and socks.

“It’s getting hot, and these public servant dress codes are a pain.”

“Then quit.”

“No money. Gotta hustle unless someone’s feeding me.”

Trading nonsense, we headed to the parking lot near the dorm.

Despite time to spare, two students waited.

Ye-jin, leaning on Bung-bung MK2, spotted me and rushed over.

“Hi! Gimme that! Trunk?”

“Thanks. You’re here early.”

“Ugh, it’s heavy.”

She took the case naturally, loading it into the trunk.

“Of course.”

Bending slightly, she rubbed her hands eagerly.

“I’d wait a day early for your call.”

“I could wait two,” Da-yeon chimed in, not to be outdone.

Their groveling was odd but understandable.

Today’s outing was to a forge for their new weapons.

I’d promised to pick weapons at the Invention Day expo, but the Swordmaster’s appearance derailed that.

It left a bad taste, like I’d abandoned them.

Since I had forge business, I brought them along.

They jumped at the chance, trusting my vouch for the craftsman’s skill.

In the car, seatbelts on, Ye-jin asked cautiously.

“Custom weapons—aren’t they pricey?”

“More than standard ones.”

“Must be a famous guy.”

“Was, back then. Not sure now.”

Dolodres, a top underworld weaponsmith.

The Dolodres I dealt with, old as dirt, was likely dead.

I was visiting his sole apprentice.

“But the skill’s solid.”

No worries there.

Ten years ago, that picky, nasty master acknowledged the apprentice.

Short on experience then, but not skill.

A decade later, they’d be masters.

Ye-jin’s face turned uneasy.

Not just a craftsman—a legend. Bigger than expected.

“I’ve only got a million won from the Academy stipend…”

She dug into her pocket, pulling the lining out.

A few crumpled bills, a card, coins, and a paper fell.

“32,400 won, a 5,000-won transit card, and a 50,000-won webhard coupon. That's enough?”

She could scrape another 100,000 in emergency funds, but using it all on a weapon felt risky.

“Webhard coupon?”

I stared at her through the rearview mirror, baffled.

Waving it off, I said.

“No need for money. My order’s pricey—your weapons are a bonus.”

I thought of the Purple Glass Sword in the trunk.

The sword itself needed no work.

I was here for a custom sheath.

A random sheath wouldn’t do—its unique material demanded a specific fit, or it’d cause chaos.

The sheath needed special features, costing a fortune.

Arrows and knuckles?

They’d toss those in.

I was a regular, after all.

“Exactly!”

Ye-jin lit up.

“Free, right?”

“Yup.”

“Yay! Woo! Hooray!”

She threw her arms up.

Then, leaning between the front seats, she got serious.

“Professor.”

I matched her tone, looking at her.

Swallowing hard, she asked?

“What’s for lunch?”

“Huh.”

I couldn’t respond.

Glancing aside, I met Da-yeon’s equally exasperated eyes.

She spoke first.

“Handle her?”

“Go for it.”

Instantly, Da-yeon jabbed Ye-jin’s neck with her hand.

“I want eel—ow! Stop, it tickles!”

* * *

Driving down a quiet country road, I checked the map and signs.

“The map says it’s around here.”

Top forges were near members-only.

No ads needed—heroes, hunters, and villains brought cash by the truckload.

No navigation listing.

Advertising forges were often doubted for skill.

But—

“That sign?”

So-hee spotted a massive one, double-checking.

[120-Year Traditional Forge]

[Right at the Shoulder, Straight Ahead!]

[No Regrets, Best Choice!]

[Custom Weapons Same-Day!]

[Groups Welcome!]

“The address matches, and no other forges nearby…”

I muttered, eyeing the sign, unsure.

“Seems right.”

My voice lacked confidence.

The sign screamed marketing over skill, gaudy and excessive.

I turned.

At the end of a winding shoulder road, a shabby building stood alone.

I’d heard they’d left the underworld for legit work, expecting skyscrapers.

Just a three-story shack?

Uneasy, I parked near it.

A young man, likely a worker, rushed out.

“Welcome! This way!”

Inside, hammering and heat hit me.

Unlike the rundown exterior, the interior ran smoothly.

A classic forge with modern touches in some processes.

Work and sales were semi-separated, but no walls hid the crafting.

Molten metal flowed from a central furnace, glowing red.

One wall was a giant LED screen, managing blueprints and 3D models.

A laser cutter sat beside apprentices hammering heated metal.

The clear ring of red-hot steel sank into my bones.

Compared to ten years ago, it was a modern marvel.

I scanned it, intrigued.

Da-yeon and Ye-jin’s eyes gleamed at the displayed weapons.

So-hee, uninterested, trailed me with her hands behind her back.

A worker sidled up.

“Looking for something?”

“Custom order.”

He lit up.

Custom jobs cost multiples of ready-made ones.

Jackpot customer.

He pulled out a catalog.

“We’re holding a custom weapon event. Here’s—”

Talking about A/S extensions and freebies, I waved him off, annoyed.

“That’s fine.”

Pointing at Da-yeon and Ye-jin, I said.

“Arrows and knuckles for them. Factor in their input. For me…”

Scanning the room, I asked?

“Where’s the owner?”

His smile faltered, then returned, but his voice betrayed unease.

“Why do you need our boss?”

“That's why I’m here.”

“The boss is busy with personal work. Not taking clients.”

“Personal work?”

If he’d said sick or absent, I might’ve bought it.

But the obvious lie made me frown.

“That main furnace—over a century old, still in use. Not using it for work? All the casting’s done here.”

A third-generation furnace, fully functional.

What craftsman skips their pride for “personal work”?

He shut up.

Sighing, I asked?

“Sick? Slump?”

“Personal matters, I can’t—”

“Fine. Tell your boss I brought a Dolodres weapon.”

“A master’s weapon?”

Shocked, he bowed 90 degrees.

“To the second-floor consultation room!”

* * *

The second floor, reached via the worker, was a standard office.

First floor for crafting and sales, second for design and admin.

Waiting, I heard footsteps from the third-floor stairs.

Someone descended.

Red-faced, bottle in hand, stumbling like they’d collapse.

A textbook drunk.

My face darkened.

The boss staggered down, standing before me.

“S-sir, a guest’s here—ease off the booze,” the worker chided.

Ignoring him, the boss slurred.

“You… brought my master’s stuff?”

“A guest, till I saw a craftsman chugging in broad daylight.”

I sighed.

I got why the worker tried to block me.

Embarrassed, he couldn’t look up.

Sick or slumped—both bad for orders.

But an alcoholic craftsman?

Both at once.

“Harsh joke.”

I sighed again.