The Academy's Terminally Ill Side Character

Ban Frok. A completely absurd man. Yet… he was the first person who came to mind when I considered who to recruit as a subordinate while playing the villain—at least temporarily—at the academy.

And the reason was simple.

He embodied everything I imagined a charismatic villain could be.

He was cheerful in his own unhinged way. Playful without being weak. And most importantly—he was strong. Very strong. The kind of person who lived by a personal code and never wavered from it.

In the original novel, Ban didn't get much screen time. He was too eccentric, too tonally inconsistent with the story's usual atmosphere. But seeing him now, alive and breathing and wielding cabbage like divine punishment…?

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

He had potential. Not as a hero. Not even as a true villain.

But as a wildcard. A force of nature.

Still… seeing him in person was very different from reading about him in the novel.

Every time the skin under his handsome face shifted—his expressions too intense, his eyes too wide—I felt my survival instincts kicking in.

"Ah, don't worry," Ban suddenly said, glancing toward the crowd. His voice was surprisingly soft this time. "I won't hurt you."

Objectively speaking, he had probably already caused enough psychological damage to warrant counseling for half the cadets here.

But in his own mind, he was innocent.

A man of principles. Misguided, chaotic principles—but principles nonetheless.

I exhaled, muttering to myself.

"…Yeah. He's perfect."

Perfect for my villain arc.

Perfect for chaos.

Perfectly terrifying.

Ban Frok—the Cabbage Paladin, the Nutritional Enforcer, the Fiber Avenger.

And soon… maybe my first recruit.

At that moment, Ban turned back to his target.

The girl was still standing there, cabbage in hand—untouched.

His eyes narrowed. That eerie fury returned.

Without hesitation, he marched over, snatched the cabbage from her hands, and in one swift motion, forced her mouth open.

"Eat this cabbage… and be reborn."

"Eeeek!"

"Uwaaaah…!"

The other girls screamed, some ducking behind each other, others frozen in horror.

Uh… shit.

I felt a twinge of guilt watching this unfold.

No, that wasn't quite right—I didn't feel sorry for them exactly.

More like… bad?

Yeah. A little bad.

Because, honestly? It was hilarious in the novel. Reading about Ban Frok's absurd justice—forcing cabbage-based enlightenment on unsuspecting students—was just ridiculous fun.

But seeing it in real life?

Yeah, not so fun when you're within projectile vegetable range.

Thankfully, his cabbage crusade didn't escalate further.

Because someone stepped in.

A sharp figure moved between Ban and the terrified girl, blocking him.

It was Professor Lena.

"…What exactly do you think you're doing?" she asked, her voice calm—but laced with unmistakable irritation.

Ban blinked. "I'm punishing those who waste food and offering them a chance to reflect on their choices."

Lena raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"I see. I understand your purpose," she said dryly. "Let's discuss the rest of your philosophy at the correctional facility."

Oh, right.

The correctional facility.

It wasn't jail, exactly. More like a rehab center for superhumans who broke rules that didn't quite merit full-on imprisonment—but still deserved some time to cool off and rethink their lives.

But Ban just ignored and looked over her and nodded his head like he was scoring her some marks.

"Your body is good."

Is this guy want to die really?

Professor Lena's eye twitched.

The air shifted.

A pressure—subtle but terrifying—settled over the courtyard.

Ban tilted his head, either oblivious to the gathering storm or simply indifferent.

"You must have a strong core," he added thoughtfully, as if discussing something as mundane as exercise form. "I can tell. Great glutes, too. Excellent posture."

The world froze.

Even the wind seemed to hesitate.

Professor Lena smiled.

It was a serene, polished smile—a seasoned instructor's mask. The kind of smile that preceded someone's slow, humiliating demise.

"Ban Frok," Lena said sweetly, her voice dipped in venom. "Would you like to repeat that for the disciplinary report?"

Ban finally paused.

His eyes shifted—from her face, to the cabbage still clutched in his hand, and then to the girl trembling behind her.

"Oh," he muttered, as if just now realizing something. "Was that inappropriate?"

Lena's smile widened a fraction.

"Yes."

"You misunderstood me." Ban straightened his posture, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "I don't have any particular interest in you. I was simply stating a fact. That's a well-developed body—one only achievable through a balanced, vegetable-rich diet. As expected of a Reilan Academy professor."

Ah. That's what he meant.

Right. She was... well-nourished.

But then Ban kept talking.

"But you still can't beat me."

Lena's brow twitched. Just slightly. But that was all the warning anyone needed.

With a sharp exhale, she stepped forward—and the ground cracked beneath her heel.

Mana surged through her limbs. Her body moved with the grace of a dancer and the force of a missile. She raised her fist without hesitation.

"Move."

And then—clang.

The impact rang through the air like metal against stone.

Her strike had been blocked.

By a cucumber.

A bumpy, bright green cucumber gripped in Ban Frok's hand like a short sword.

"…What?"

Lena's eyes narrowed.

"You can't even split this cucumber," Ban said calmly, "with a fist that soft."

The courtyard froze again. Murmurs of disbelief spread like wildfire.

A cucumber?

How the hell did he block a mana-infused punch with a vegetable?

I already knew the answer, but even so—I felt like questioning reality.

Ban's gift, Agrikinesis, hadn't started this way.

Originally, it was modest. Harmless, even. A low-tier talent that let him sense fertile soil and grow unusually healthy produce.

But something had happened. A mental break? Divine intervention? Who knows.

What should have been a passive farming ability had evolved—no, mutated—into something utterly deranged.

Through sheer obsession, Ban Frok had awakened it. Now, the land answered him like a loyal beast, and vegetables became his divine weapons.

But that wasn't the insane part.

No, the insane part was his passive.

Ban's awakened ability granted him conditional invincibility.

If someone had thrown away edible food—specifically within the past month—they couldn't harm him.

And if that food was a vegetable?

They couldn't even resist his attacks.

It was completely absurd. Broken. Ridiculous.

And yet, somehow—it worked.

"You…" Ban said, cucumber still held firm, "recently wasted a bell pepper. One that could've saved a soul."

Lena's mouth opened slightly. "What…? How do you know that?"

"I don't," Ban replied with a grin. "But I felt it in the earth. In the roots. They whispered to me."

He said that with the same tone someone else might use to recite poetry.

Like this was all completely normal.

Lena stared at him like he'd grown three heads.

Which, frankly, would've made more sense.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

This man.

This cabbage-swinging, fiber-obsessed lunatic.

He was immune to reason. Immune to Lena's punch. Possibly immune to law itself.

And worst of all?

He was perfect.

Perfect for the madness I had planned.

My villain arc had found its knight.

The Cucumber Sentinel.

The Paladin of Produce.

The Nutritional Nemesis.

And my first recruit.

Probably.

If he didn't get institutionalized first.

----

Author Note:

Thanks for the reading novel.