The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

Ban raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence.

"No. No excuses. You have disrespected the sacred pact between humanity and nutrition."

Now....even group of girls started to feel creepy and bit if fear due this strange man antics.

...And why the hell no one is stepping in for help?

At the same time, he whipped around, reaching into the grocery bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a cabbage—still wrapped in a thin film of moisture like it had been freshly picked that morning.

He held it up, letting the sun glint off the damp green leaves. It looked holy. Radiant.

Like a divine weapon.

Like the Cabbage of Retribution.

"You have two options," Ban said solemnly. "Repent and eat this raw cabbage… or face the Trial of Fiber."

"…The what?"

Ban's eyes glinted with fury. "The Trial. Of. Fiber."

"Is he serious?" one girl whispered.

"Dead serious," another replied, gulping.

By now, a crowd had gathered around them. Some were recording, others just watching with slack-jawed confusion. A few of the instructors were still on the fence about stepping in, but even they seemed curious how this would play out.

The main girl—the one who'd thrown Keira's food—folded her arms and scoffed.

"You think I'm going to eat that just because some vegetable-obsessed freak yells at me?"

"…So you do admit it," Ban said, voice low.

She blinked again. "What?"

"You admitted it. You threw away the food."

Her eyes widened. "Wait—"

"CONFESSION OBTAINED!" Ban roared, triumphantly raising his phone like it was some sacred artifact. "Initiating Fiber Purge!"

With a theatrical spin, he took a single thunderous step forward and slammed a cabbage into the girl's hands like he was handing down divine judgment. She nearly tripped backward, cradling the leafy orb like it might explode at any moment.

"...What the hell is happening right now?" one cadet muttered in disbelief.

Leona and Ryen were both still frozen in the arena, watching the scene unfold like everyone else. Their match long forgotten.

Then, finally—mercifully—someone stepped forward.

"Enough!" a loud voice boomed. "You absolute lunatic! Have you seriously not changed at all since graduating?"

All heads turned toward the familiar figure striding out of the instructor's row. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a deep scowl etched onto his face—Instructor Ray Black of the Basic Physical Strengthening class.

His voice carried weight. Authority. Discipline.

And Ban Frok ignored it entirely.

"You've been leaving food on your plate lately," Ban said coldly, narrowing his eyes at the girl as if he hadn't even heard the instructor.

"No—no, you crazy bastard!" Ray exploded. "You're still going on about that? It's been years! Years since you graduated! I thought maybe you'd gain some self-awareness, but you're still—still—doing this!"

He looked genuinely distressed. Like someone watching an old student return from a long journey… only to discover they'd somehow gotten worse.

"Ban," Ray said again, softer this time. "You were always… passionate. But this? You're disrupting a sanctioned match. You're harassing students. You've turned into a walking vegetable cult."

But Ban Frok simply adjusted the bag on his shoulder—still filled to the brim with squash, carrots, and other leafy contraband—and stared his former instructor dead in the eyes.

"I don't negotiate with those who waste food."

Ray exhaled through his nose. A long, tired breath. "Of course not. Of course you'd say that."

He rubbed his temples, muttering, "Should've just let him fail that finals exam…"

From the crowd, murmurs rose again.

"Is that… really Ban Frok?"

"He used to be in my senior's year. I thought he joined some farming guild?"

"Farming? He's starting a cult."

Meanwhile, the girl clutching the cabbage had started trembling. Not from fear, exactly. More like sheer secondhand embarrassment.

"I… I didn't mean to throw it away," she stammered. "It was just half-eaten…"

"Half-eaten is still edible!" Ban snapped, pointing at her like he'd caught her performing dark rituals. "Do you know how many nutrients are in those uneaten bites?!"

"I… I didn't know…?"

"EXACTLY! That's the problem! You didn't know! You didn't care!"

Ray groaned, glancing toward the other instructors. "Can someone just… tackle him already?"

One instructor laughed. "And become the guy who tackled the Vegetable Vigilante on record? No thanks."

"Right," Ray muttered. "Cowards. All of you."

Ban had already moved on from the girl, now opening his bag with purpose. "Spinach for sins. Carrots for cleansing. And cabbage… for character."

"Oh god," Ray muttered, "he has a system now."

----

Rin Evans POV:

Really... Ban Frok's character, made by my friend, is insanely unique in the novel.

And I could feel that.

The way he held the cabbage like it was some divine relic handed down from the gods of agriculture… it wasn't acting. It wasn't parody. The man believed.

Even now, watching from the bleachers, I couldn't look away.

As far as I remember, Ban Frok also have A+ rank talent.

The name of his talent was — ["Agrikinesis"].

It sounded dumb when I first heard it. Like some joke skill you'd find in a parody game

At first glance, it sounded like some weird alchemy nonsense. Something you'd slap on a side character as a joke. But Ban Frok made it terrifyingly effective.

He could convert any consumable food item into raw energy—enhancing his strength, stamina, and even speed in real time depending on the quality of the nutrition.

The purer the food, the stronger the effect.

And naturally… vegetables were his drug of choice.

"I know. I understand. Everyone has their preferences," Ban said, voice low but resonant. "As cadets, you might leave food you didn't choose yourselves. I get it."

Then, without warning, he turned to Instructor Ray Black—who was still fuming—and shoved a mana-infused carrot into the man's mouth.

Ray choked slightly, more in shock than anything else.

"Chew," Ban commanded.

And then, he turned back toward the girls, who were all visibly trembling now, some halfway between fear and outright confusion.

"But I will never forgive wasting food."

His muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he stood tall, eyes burning with righteous fury. And just when the tension hit its peak—

He delivered a horribly outdated joke. Something about "peas in a pod of justice."

It fell flat. Dead silence.

And yet, somehow, it made everything worse.

Watching this spectacle unfold, I leaned back in my seat in the bleachers, trying to process what I'd just seen.

"…Should I reconsider?"

That thought came unbidden.

.... After all I wanted him to be my first underling when I start my very own villain arc of this novel.

But now I am having some doubts in my life choices.