Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 82: Power (2)

I was beyond baffled—speechless at the absurd proposal.

Snapping out of it, I shook my head.

“A villain-turned-sham professor with a short track record, and you want to slap a deputy head title on me?”

I recalled the glares I’d gotten at the Academy.

“How dare a guy like you wear a full professor badge?”

Union meetings, chance encounters with other professors—their reactions screamed it.

Things had eased lately, but early in the semester, their stares could’ve bored holes in my skull, sometimes making my blood boil.

In a place like Clington, crawling with those types, taking on deputy head wasn’t just a title—it was begging to be torn apart.

No sane person would suggest this.

After a moment’s thought, I offered the most plausible response.

“Are you senile or something?”

“Tch, senile? I’m clearer than ever.”

Se-ah, who’d been quietly listening, chimed in.

“Idiot. Titles are political showpieces. Ability rarely factors in.”

She squirmed, shifting her posture, and plopped her legs on my thighs.

I frowned, but before I could care about her legs, I asked?

“Not just a promotion—you want to use me politically?”

“Yup.”

“Yup, my ass.”

Her instant reply made me roll up the report and smack her shin.

Unfazed, she continued cheekily.

“At Clington, a ‘deputy’ title means one of two things: power-hungry climbers or suckers stuck with the dirty work.”

“I’m not the first, so I’m the second? You think I’d agree to that?”

“Of course you would. You keep losing facility bookings to other professors, getting shuffled around.”

She grinned wickedly.

Her youthful face didn’t match the vibe, but that was beside the point.

“Deputy head gets priority facility access. A little work, and your students get better training spaces.”

I was about to storm out, but her words drained my strength.

Facility access was my biggest stress lately.

If other professors were just picking fights, I’d have flipped tables long ago.

But they used the facilities to “check” my classes’ quality, leaving me speechless.

My voice softened, tempted.

“Not zero perks, but won’t senior professors complain?”

The Dean took that one.

“Not any department—Enhancement’s at the heart of Clington’s politics.”

“So senior professors avoid the deputy head role?”

He nodded.

“Enhancement professors are like that. Do their job, skip the politics. Younger ones chase the title for ambition, but give it to those without foundation or skill…”

He shrugged.

“Better you take it.”

“That’s it?”

I eyed him suspiciously.

We aligned on goals, but we weren’t buddies.

This old man wasn’t the type to offer me a win for simple reasons.

Se-ah wiggled her legs, tapping my thigh.

“It’s mostly union and political fights.”

“Politics?”

“Yeah. Union versus the Dean’s faction, duking it out. The old deputy head was a union, so they insisted on keeping it theirs. The Dean’s side wants their guy. Enhancement’s neutral, wondering why they’re caught in the mess.”

Her explanation clicked, and I clicked my tongue.

“Union’s happy since I’m theirs. The Dean’s faction thinks he’s got my leash, so it’s their best shot. Enhancement dumps the hassle on me. Total setup.”

“But you gain too,” the Dean said, chuckling.

I was floored.

Shady bastard.

“By the way, if you refuse, not much I can do. Papers are done—just needs a stamp.”

“I already signed!” Se-ah added.

I sighed.

“How’s the pay bump?”

“Oh, your salary’s safe now, right? But Clington’s pay is based on teaching hours and seniority.

Titles don’t count until head level. Deputy’s purely honorary.”

“A scam.”

I had more to ask, but my phone buzzed.

Checking the text, I brushed Se-ah’s legs off and stood.

“Gotta catch an escapee. Don’t sign those papers yet, old man. I need more details.”

Se-ah grinned, climbing onto the sofa, ruffling my hair.

“We’re one step apart now! Work hard!”

“What’s that mean?”

Her “support” was useless.

Climbing higher just meant a tighter leash.

* * *

In the Organization’s deepest sanctum, the boss’s private chamber, an executive appeared.

Books lined one wall.

The boss sat at a desk, setting down her pen and rising.

“What is it?”

Bandages wrapped her body, but her strength remained.

Not just power—her absolute superiority wasn’t dimmed by mere wounds.

A month ago, her injuries were severe.

Now, daily life was fine, with full recovery expected in a week, per the Organization’s doctor.

“I asked what it was.”

The executive snapped to attention, bowing.

“Our Academy informant’s been caught. Likely dealt with.”

“I see.”

She nodded, unmoved.

A pity, but that informant was used for S-1, Choi Da-yeon, long ago. With Da-yeon’s value gone, he wasn’t worth much.

She’d been waiting to cut him loose, so no big loss.

“No need to recruit more Academy staff.”

“Yes. Also, we kidnapped three Legal Department agents handling top-secret info.”

“Good.”

That was more critical now.

The primary target was Han So-hee, a Legal Department agent with outsized authority, handling escalated secrets and irregular duties.

The only one matching all criteria.

But her tight security and near-constant Academy presence led to repeated failures.

After the last S-rank test subject failed, they shifted targets.

“Excellent. Their info’s less precise than the primary’s, so interrogate thoroughly and cross-verify.”

“Yes.”

“And S-1 and the primary are useless now. Reassign their resources.”

“Immediately. Also, the latest Academy intel confirms a connection between the professor always with S-1 and the Swordmaster.”

Her usual blank expression cracked, her eyebrow twitching.

“The Swordmaster’s hidden agent?”

“Yes. Records show they met privately at Invention Day. Almost certain.”

Her face crumpled.

The Swordmaster, who rarely left his office or city, suddenly visited the Academy to meet someone other than his daughter?

Not suspecting their connection was stranger.

It explained the failures.

“I never considered their link since he doesn’t use a sword. A decoy?”

They’d failed to kidnap Da-yeon in perfect scenarios.

She’d blamed incompetent operatives, but this variable changed everything.

“A top hero. Even his hidden blade is near S-rank.”

“The Academy tightly guards professor info, but we recently got documents. I’ll fetch—”

“No need.”

She waved dismissively.

Having decided to drop it, digging into details was a waste.

Knowing or not, their task and the interloper’s fate were set.

“Still, getting chased off after losses stings pride. How much damage from this?”

The executive named a massive sum.

“They’ll pay with their bodies.”

She snapped her fingers.

“Leave them a deep lesson.”

Until now, secrecy for kidnappings kept them discreet.

“Loud. Intense.”

Without those constraints, she was confident they wouldn’t lose.

The Organization had weapons unfit for subtle ops like kidnappings.

That professor, a near S-rank unofficial powerhouse, needed culling to weaken heroes for their future goals.

“Proceed immediately.”

The executive left.

She sat, picking up her pen.

Burn scars on her hand and elbow stung, but she ignored them.

Muttering irritably.

“Nothing’s ever easy.”

Sighing, she opened the notebook she’d closed.

Her eyes drifted to a distant past, over ten years gone.

Moving her pen, she recalled his face, words, rough touch, voice, heartbeat—all fading.

But her feelings remained vivid.

I just wanted to see him.

That simple wish, growing over a decade, crushed her.

If she could hear from him, find him, even in another ten years.

But the world was too harsh.

Enemies surrounded her; danger lurked everywhere.

Even if she found him, they might never be together.

That fear gripped her heart.

So she gathered power.

To ensure no one could tear them apart again.

To face him as an equal.

To fulfill his dream, heard in passing.

And maybe, a faint hope, he’d hear the Organization’s name and find her first.

Clinging to that slim chance, she took up its leadership.

She’d run toward that dream.

Her pen’s lines formed a man.

Unlike memory, he smiled at her on paper.

Too much time had passed; their moments were now just memories.

But she wanted to hold onto him, like this.

“Sir, where are you…”

Her anguished whisper shattered in the quiet room.

Lowering her head, forehead on the paper, she whispered again, knowing no answer would come.

“I miss you…”