Academy’s Villain Professor

Chapter 10: Villain Attack

Someone let out a choked gasp.

You’ll die.

For aspiring heroes, it was a phrase they heard often, but in this moment, its weight was on another level.

Of course, with Ho-cheol present, no student would die.

The harsh word “die” was just a tool to tighten the screws on any complacent ones.

Even if the worst-case scenario exceeded Ho-cheol’s predictions, only villains would die—no student would be hurt or killed.

This entire situation was orchestrated by Ho-cheol for the students’ real combat experience.

A real fight with real villains.

A selfish scheme by Ho-cheol, deceiving the president, the academy, the students, and the villains.

No matter how closely a practice mimicked reality, it was still practice.

Something could only be gained in real combat.

But the students, unaware of Ho-cheol’s intentions, were gripped by fear, confusion, and a flood of negative emotions.

One student shouted.

“If they’re real villains, shouldn’t we evacuate now!”

The terrified cry echoed everyone’s feelings.

But Ho-cheol neither confirmed nor denied it, slowly raising his hand.

His finger pointed to the hall’s only exit.

“Look at the door. Black mist is swirling around the handle’s shadow. Touch it or get close, and it’s likely a trap mine.”

Some sharp-eyed students peered at the handle.

As Ho-cheol said, black mist writhed faintly around it.

“They’re not unable to cross over—they’re choosing not to. If we trigger the trap first, it’d make things easy for them.”

Students who’d wondered why they weren’t escaping shut their mouths.

Without Ho-cheol’s warning, the outcome was obvious.

“In real combat, even small responses and choices can mean life or death. If it was just your life, fine. But innocent civilians’ lives can hinge on your decisions. Always remember that.”

Looking at the student who’d suggested fleeing, he addressed everyone.

“If you aim to be heroes, you’ll face this countless times. If you’re going to keep trembling like this…”

Even without ability, will alone could make a decent hero.

But without will, no matter how great the ability, becoming a hero was impossible.

“…I suggest exploring another career now.”

With that, Ho-cheol fell silent.

He had more to say, but time was short.

The black mist had grown, covering an entire wall.

From the pitch-dark fog, a human hand burst out.

Then an arm, leg, body, head. It tore through the mist, followed by others.

Counting the villains, Ho-cheol muttered in mild surprise.

“Fifty-nine, huh.”

More than the students.

The students, overwhelmed by the numbers, stepped back further.

This type of attack relied on a small, elite group for stealth and speed.

Such a large force suggested a deeper motive.

From the mist poured a horde of villains.

A man at the front stepped forward.

Unlike most, clad in functional gear or costumes, he wore a crisp suit.

With a friendly smile, he took a step closer.

“First time meeting. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

* * *

Ho-cheol walked toward the villains, arms crossed, and replied curtly.

“Not mutual. Interrupting my class—what’s this about?”

“Haha, terribly sorry to disrupt your lecture. We’ll handle our business quickly and leave.”

“Nice suit. Long shot, but are you a book salesman?”

“Haha, no way. As you likely guessed, we’re villains. But if we can understand and compromise, we’ll leave quietly.”

The man rubbed his hands lightly.

“We’re here at Clington Academy for one reason: to kidnap the only kin of S-grade hero, Swordmaster Choi Hak-do.”

Exactly as expected.

Ho-cheol glanced back.

The other students murmured in shock, but Da-yeon, the target, remained calm.

Arrow nocked, she glared at the villains, ready to fire.

Unfazed by Ho-cheol’s lack of reaction, the man continued.

“If you hand her over, I swear we’ll leave without a fuss. We don’t want to hurt other students or you.”

“You call that a deal?”

Ho-cheol’s blunt response prompted two men to flank the suited one.

Their identical faces almost suggested clones, but subtle differences existed.

“Triplets? Doesn’t seem like plastic surgery. Interesting bunch.”

A student behind gasped loudly.

“A-grade designated villains… the Hellhound Triplets.”

“Haha, a bit hurtful. We’re called Cerberus—pretty cool, right? Glad someone recognizes us.

Not quite top-tier, but we’ve made a name. I’m the youngest. Left’s Big Brother, right’s Second.”

Ho-cheol, arms still crossed, shrugged.

“Don’t know you. Not like I keep tabs on mere A-grade villains.”

To him, like heroes, villains below S-grade were just street thugs.

His blatant dismissal made Second scowl.

He was already itching for revenge after the arrow to his eye four days ago.

But he held back.

Revenge could wait until the youngest’s trait succeeded.

They were halfway there—time would do the rest.

“Even if you were S-grade villains, my answer wouldn’t change.”

Ho-cheol rubbed his neck, loosening up.

“Touch my student, and I’ll kill you.”

“Hm, well…”

The youngest scratched his cheek, feigning trouble.

“We three alone are A-grade hero level, and we’ve got overwhelming numbers. Intruder sensors are down, the electromagnetic barrier cuts off communication and escape, and Clington’s biggest asset—the president—is absent.”

Ho-cheol knew.

He’d set it up.

But the students’ growing panic was palpable behind him.

“Wouldn’t sacrificing one be better than all the students getting hurt or killed?”

Ho-cheol didn’t answer.

Staring at the youngest, he spat out.

“Manipulation trait, huh? No wonder you’re pushing this nonsense deal. Some kind of hypnosis through your voice.”

He turned to check the students.

Some were fine, but most were losing focus, eyes glazing over.

“Tch. Never taught them how to counter manipulation.”

Clicking his tongue, he pressed his thumb and middle finger together and snapped.

Crack—!

A sharp blast, like a gunshot, echoed through the hall.

The half-dazed students snapped back to reality.

Ho-cheol shook his hand lightly.

“Manipulation targeting the brain or mind can be disrupted by shaking the trigger. Here, the voice is the medium, so a different sound can block it.”

The youngest’s eyes widened in shock.

But only briefly.

Dropping his friendly smile, he scowled menacingly.

“Tch. Failed. Could’ve gone the easy way.”

His trait: hypnosis.

By weaving inaudible frequencies into his voice, he could knock out, cloud judgment, or control minds.

“That’s your true face. Makes sense—act like a reasonable guy, and most people get brainwashed after a few words.”

Ho-cheol’s gaze shifted to the villains behind.

“Then most of those guys are just puppets you’re using as fodder.”

“Sharp. Yeah, my trait can control up to a hundred. All brainwashed and brought here.”

He could control a hundred, but brought around fifty.

Ho-cheol instantly grasped their next goal.

“Planning to kidnap the whole class?”

“Yep. One’s too obvious. Take an entire class, and the academy and heroes will be slow to respond. Plus, a former villain professor going missing? Great media fodder.”

“Motive? Too frivolous for revenge or ideology.”

Calculating possibilities, Ho-cheol sighed faintly.

“Money, then.”

No big secret, so the youngest nodded.

“Right. They said bringing her in would set us up for life.”

He stepped back.

“Well, talking’s done. Time for force. You’ll regret it when your limbs are torn off, but that’s your fate.”

Turning to the villains, he ordered,

“Ignore the professor. Go for the students. We need hostages, so don’t kill them.”

With one captured, they’d win—a grossly advantageous fight.

At his command, the villains charged.

Ho-cheol didn’t block or attack them.

Instead, he turned to the tense students, already gripping their weapons, and said.

“Faced with this, will you freeze in fear? Just endure? Push to overcome? Or turn it into an opportunity? Decide for yourself—if you truly want to be a hero.”

The brainwashed villains were predictable. Barely street-thug level, unable to control their traits fully.

Their movements, dulled by hypnosis, were stiff.

Even if they were stronger than the students, they were manageable.

With that final advice, Ho-cheol turned to face the triplets.

Second, silent until now, sneered.

“Not protecting your students? What if they die?”

“No need. I checked—none of your villains look dangerous.”

Ho-cheol slipped his hand into his pocket.

“Won’t kill them, but they won’t do bad things again.”

At his calm declaration, the youngest smirked mockingly.

“Big talk. Let’s see this C-grade villain’s skills.”

Ho-cheol pulled his hand from his pocket, holding a single pen.

The triplets’ eyes flicked to it. In that brief moment, the pen vanished.

No one saw it thrown or flew.

Only when it pierced the youngest’s throat did they spot it.

Big Brother and Second froze, eyes wide, uncomprehending.

Ho-cheol, now beside the youngest, slung an arm over his shoulder.

With a friendly pat, he explained.

“This kind of ability comes from a body part, right? Wreck the vocal cords, and it’s over. If the medium’s broken, even a recovery trait can’t fix it.”

The hypnosis trait still worked, but without the special sound, it was useless.

Ho-cheol’s brand of punishment.

Not death.

A lifetime in prison as a non-trait user would be worse.

“St…op…”

Did he sense what pulling the pen would do?

The youngest’s voice wheezed, but Ho-cheol smiled lightly, tapping the pen and shaking it.

“Nope.”

With one word, he yanked it out.

Blood sprayed like a fountain from the pierced throat.

Clutching his neck, the youngest collapsed, mouth gaping, but only blood gurgled out.

Ho-cheol shook his head, genuinely regretful.

“Villains’ problem is they talk too much when things go well. Why give up the advantage of an unknown trait?”

Even accounting for that, villains and heroes were weaker than ten years ago.

“You bastard, you killed our youngest!”

“Third!”

As Big Brother and Second charged, Ho-cheol waved the pen.

Their abilities, their danger—he wasn’t curious or interested.

They were family, so he’d send them to the same prison, right?

That was his only thought as he aimed for their foreheads and temples.