The Villain’s POV in the Academy

Chapter 28

In the end, the murderous urge flared up again.

Saying it like this made it sound like I was in the final stages of some adolescent delusion, but in reality, it wasn’t something I could just laugh off.

‘…This is driving me insane.’

My throat kept feeling dry.

No matter how much water I drank, there was this strange thirst that refused to be quenched, scraping at my esophagus. It was as if every cell in my body was yearning for something intense and unfamiliar.

‘Perhaps the reason this body became a murder fiend isn’t just because of a twisted personality.’

Maybe something had gone wrong in the genetic engineering process when this body was created.

Of course, in the novel, since this villain exited the stage rather quickly, details like that were never fleshed out.

But regretting being transmigrated into a body like this now wasn’t going to change anything.

Besides, after the ruckus at the Black Market last time, I had already prepared a plan for moments like this, so there was no need to worry too much.

But before that—

There were a few matters I needed to handle and prepare for, preferably while my mind was still clear.

That was why I gathered Iri and Miyu in one place.

“From now on, you’ll be taking care of her.”

“W–wait, why are you saying that all of a sudden…?!”

Iri seemed to be getting the wrong idea, but that was a misunderstanding.

Miyu had arrived at the office first, and when she heard someone approaching, she hid behind my desk. I simply dragged her back out.

But since Iri didn’t know the circumstances, she looked as if I had just told her something absurd. She probably couldn’t make sense of the situation yet.

“More importantly, what do you mean by ‘take care of her’…?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

I explained calmly.

“She’s also a Stingray special scholarship student, just like you. But as you can see, she’s extremely shy around strangers, so she needs a bit of looking after.”

“A… special scholarship student?”

Iri looked as if she wanted to say, “That girl?” but held herself back.

The moment Miyu met her eyes, she squeaked out, “Eek!” and tried to run away again.

It was Iri’s rough demeanor, ingrained in her body language, that frightened her.

Without a second thought, I used [Cloud Spider]’s thread to snatch her back and place her on top of my desk before continuing.

“She’s a first-year in the Department of Science and Technology, same as you. She’s also my exclusive modular. I can say with certainty—she’s the best engineer I know.”

“A modular… ah!”

She seemed to catch on right away.

My Iri might lack some common sense thanks to her rough childhood, but she was by no means slow-witted.

“That’s right. She’ll fix your module problem. It’d be good for you two to get along.”

“But… I didn’t keep my promise. And besides, that—”

“So you’re aware you did something wrong?”

“Ugh…”

When I teased her, Iri lowered her head, looking guilty.

Flipping off the high-ranking officials from various corporations during the [Showcase] wasn’t something you could pull off with ordinary guts.

If I hadn’t stepped in to smooth things over, it wouldn’t have been strange for her to get punished in some way.

Of course, I knew Iri’s personality from the start, so it didn’t bother me much—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a problem.

“This will also serve as punishment for that incident. If you take care of her while I’m away, I’ll consider all your previous troublemaking as water under the bridge.”

“R–really? That’s all?”

She was implying it seemed too light for a punishment. But from the start, I hadn’t intended to give her anything harsh.

After all, the gains from the [Showcase] were substantial, and we’d dealt a considerable blow to Militech as well.

And more than anything, my real goal was to gradually tame Iri this way.

‘First, build trust.’

She still had more wariness toward Stingray than fondness for me, so for the sake of my future plans, this step was necessary.

Besides, there were countless upcoming events all the way until graduation that couldn’t happen without “Iri Elisbell” in them.

And…

“It looks easy, doesn’t it? Taking care of her.”

“A–Aaron…”

At my words, Miyu, who was crouched like a kitten on the desk, timidly turned to look at me. I couldn’t tell if her expression was frightened or displeased.

“Y–you talk like I’m some kind of nuisance…”

“You’ve been skipping classes for two days straight. Don’t you think you have no right to complain?”

“Hii…”

When I replied, Miyu let out a deflated whimper, unable to argue.

And honestly, I didn’t feel particularly happy seeing her like that.

Leaving behind such a small, fragile girl while I went away—how could that be pleasant? It was like leaving a newborn alone at home with the gas stove on.

That was why I entrusted Miyu’s care to Iri, the most reliable person I could count on right now. It’d be even better if the two got closer.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘take care of her’? You’re not saying I have to dress her and feed her like a baby, right?”

“I already assigned that to the android attendants, so no.”

“No, I mean… is this really necessary?”

“I mean help her adjust. Treat her like a new little sister.”

“…Fine. I get it, for now.”

Iri still looked a bit confused.

But since it was my order, and Miyu was a skilled modular, she didn’t seem inclined to argue or complain further.

Alright then.

Now that I had settled matters between these two, it was time to leave.

“Both of you—rest here for a bit, then make sure to attend the next class. I’ll be away for a while, so I hope you don’t cause trouble in the meantime.”

That’s what I said. But I knew.

Trouble was bound to happen.

If my prediction was right, while I was gone, Iri would go through quite the ‘unpleasant experience.’

Just imagining it made my heart ache—but it couldn’t be helped.

It was necessary.

Shff.

I grabbed the coat hanging on the rack and put it on. Just in time, a flying transport vehicle pulled into the parking lot outside. Not the usual sedan I took, but something armored like a troop carrier.

A message came in right after.

– Please board quickly.

“Alright. I’m coming.”

I replied casually and started toward the terrace. That was when Iri suddenly stood up and called out to me.

“W–wait a second.”

“What is it?”

“Uh… well…”

When I turned back, Iri avoided my gaze, fidgeting. Then, as if making up her mind, she finally asked—

“When will you be back?”

“I’m scheduled to return in a week.”

“Ah… a week… I see…”

“But it might be a bit later.”

“Why? Why’s that?”

Iri asked.

I didn’t answer.

Even I couldn’t say for sure. There were still too many uncertain factors to make a judgment yet.

“If you need help while I’m gone, go find Ciel.”

“You mean that android?”

“That’s right.”

With that last bit of insurance in place just in case something happened, I headed for the transport vehicle, seeing the two of them off.

The exterior of the flying transport had no markings whatsoever. It was so no one could tell which company it belonged to.

Its exterior was wrapped in thick armor made of special plastic, with a coating designed to deflect energy-based rounds.

– Let’s get moving before we draw attention.

“Don’t rush me.”

As I approached, the rear door of the transport cracked open, revealing the inside.

Contrary to its rough, utilitarian exterior, the interior was decorated in a rather luxurious style, even featuring a VIP minibar.

‘Impressive.’

I should’ve been used to luxury by now, but this was on another level—it screamed of someone putting in maximum effort to show off.

Still, being swayed by that wasn’t the Aaron Stingray way. I took my seat without the slightest change in expression.

“Let’s go.”

“Understood.”

Someone behind a black privacy screen replied.

The transport smoothly lifted off the ground. A side panel lit up, displaying the outside view like a window.

Before long, we were cruising at normal altitude. I leaned back against the cushion and spoke briefly.

“Water.”

[Would you like sparkling?]

“Just plain water.”

[Understood.]

The AI bartender built into the vehicle responded. A glass of still water rose smoothly from the cup holder in my armrest.

My throat still burned.

While I tried to soothe the unshakable thirst with water, the person beyond the screen spoke up.

“How shameless, Aaron Stingray. Acting like you’re in your own living room.”

“All I did was ask for a glass of water, and now I’m shameless? Or has Militech’s situation gotten so bad you can’t even afford that much?”

“You know all too well. Thanks to a certain someone.”

“My apologies, then.”

I shrugged, and the privacy screen between us slid upward. A weasel-like face, augmented with cyberware, came into view.

Vladimir Kharitonov.

Chairman of the Militech Foundation.

“Don’t feed me lines you don’t mean. Since when have you been the sort to apologize?”

“I’m being sincere.”

“Shameless.”

Vladimir’s face twisted.

“You won’t tell me you’re unaware of the consequences from yesterday’s [Showcase].”

“I’m not aware.”

That was the truth.

I hadn’t even read the reports, passing everything on to Benedict. I only assumed Militech must’ve taken a hit—details, I didn’t know.

But apparently, my honest answer grated on Vladimir’s nerves.

“You son of—!”

Click.

A pistol appeared in Vladimir’s hand.

“Because of you, even my position is at risk. The board was in an uproar to discipline me yesterday—my father barely talked them down.”

“You’re the one who picked a fight first.”

“You’re the one who blew it up into something big when it could’ve been settled like a kids’ squabble.”

That was the nature of the [Showcase].

Like duels between medieval nobles, refusing a challenge was considered a serious disgrace.

But once it began, one side always had to bleed, so over time the frequency of [Showcases] had declined despite their tradition.

In the end, [Showcase] was a mock battle.

What had once been a soldier’s pastime bet eventually turned into a way to size up each other’s forces before a real war.

“I’d love nothing more than to put a round right between those smug eyebrows of yours right now.”

“I’m sure you know toys like that don’t work on me.”

“Of course. But if I blow up this entire transport, you won’t walk away unscathed.”

That was possible.

The last time I’d seen him, Vladimir had a Lv.5 Shield Module. It could easily block most explosions—and protect him even from a fall at this height without a scratch.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t so fortunate.

If I were at my peak, maybe—but in my current state, the odds of survival weren’t good.

I wasn’t sturdy enough to tank an explosion, and even if I survived that, a fall from here would finish me.

Still, I knew.

“You won’t do it, Vladimir.”

“…”

“If you really meant to, you’d have done it already in an ambush. And you’re not confident a self-destruct would finish me for sure—telling me in advance just gives me time to prepare.”

“…Fair point.”

Vladimir admitted it cleanly.

He put the gun away and sat down again, though his expression remained sour.

“In a situation where our relationship has soured this badly, the fact that you still have a proposal… wouldn’t anyone be curious?”

“Smart thinking. And it’s not bad news for you, either.”

“I’ll decide that after I hear it. The self-destruct button is still live, after all.”

It was almost pitiful, how desperate he was to cling to the initiative. That meant he really was short on options.

“It’s nothing complicated. You agree to one request of mine, and I’ll provide you with something useful in return.”

“Tell me what you want first. If it’s outrageous, I’ll drop you off right here.”

“…Alright, fine.”

I nodded and answered without hesitation.

“In two days, I want you to attack the vehicle I’m in.”