A female student lowered her bow and turned around.
A few strands of hair that she hadn’t managed to tie back gently swayed in the wind.
Her pale skin, distinct facial features, and eyes tinged with a faint blue hue stared at Ho-cheol.
“What does that mean?”
Her expression was impassive and her tone monotonous, as if she were dealing with a doll.
As Ho-cheol stuffed an empty bread bag into his backpack, he replied,
“It looks like you’ve searched the internet on how to shoot a bow and just went with that. From head to toe, it’s all a mess. If someone took money to teach you, you should shoot them in the head.”
Continuing in such a bad posture will solidify it in a few months, leaving no room for correction.
Even if corrected, it would take years of struggle.
He crossed his legs and twitched his toes.
“Right now, the target is stationary and doesn’t fight back, so it seems easy. What if there was a villain standing there? You’d probably have been able to shoot only once and then you’d be dead.”
The student remained expressionless, but a trace of anger leaked from her eyes as her hidden hands trembled behind her.
“Ah, wait a minute.”
Ho-cheol snapped his fingers.
He thought of another possibility and asked to confirm, even though he doubted it,
“If you’re shooting arrows as part of character development, a club, or just as a hobby, I apologize. From that perspective, there really isn’t a problem.”
Ho-cheol considered the bow a weapon honed for blood and violence, unaware of its spiritual aspects like Kyudo.
Ethics, benevolence, and virtue seemed pointless when dealing with villains who only needed to be taken down.
The student didn’t respond, but a slight twitch in her brow answered for her.
“Looks like that’s not it,” he murmured.
The student replied, still flicking her lips,
“Then what?”
“If you’re trying to be a hero with that kind of shooting, at best you’d be C-grade.”
Again, there was no response, but the tendons in her hand holding the bow stood out more than ever before.
Yet, Ho-cheol just nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.
“Even if you get mad, it’s no use. A B-grade villain could dodge those arrows with his eyes closed. They lack power, and there’s too much delay between each action.”
Even if there were attributes related to archery, the basics were clearly lacking.
The student asked,
“A person specializing in the bow?”
“No, but I know an archer who’s far superior. I’ve faced him a few times.”
Ho-cheol rubbed the back of his neck and stood up from the bench.
“Anyone can claim to be S-grade with words. I’ll show you, so try to assume the stance first.”
The student immediately took the stance.
It wasn’t that she trusted Ho-cheol’s words; rather, she didn’t believe him, which is why she followed his instructions.
If there was even a hint of falseness or deceit, she was ready to show him how bitter it could taste.
But if it turned out otherwise, it could be helpful.
Either way, she had nothing to lose.
“Right now, the focus for ordinary people is to maintain stable breathing and aiming. For someone with superior physical abilities, there’s no need to focus on that,” Ho-cheol said, standing next to the student, arms crossed, fingers twitching up and down.
“Your head is tilted too much. Keep it straighter. Keep both eyes open.”
He continued to critique her stance, adjusting her ankles, knees, pelvis, waist, shoulders, wrists, and even the angle of her head and gaze.
The student, uncomfortable in the unfamiliar stance, narrowed her brow, but it wasn’t unbearable.
Ho-cheol nodded as he observed the new stance.
“That’s the basic. When you release the string, take a half-step to the right and twist your waist to the left. Try that. Oh, your right hand is idle. Again.”
The strict standards forced the student to repeat the same stance over and over.
After about a dozen tries, she got used to it, though getting used to it and meeting Ho-cheol’s standards were two different things.
“You need to focus your weight on your left foot. The important thing is to keep your right foot free and only your left foot as the pivot. If the pivot is solid, then your stance and footing don’t matter. When fighting in urban areas, keep the pivot as narrow as possible.”
Even a hero who specializes in long-range combat can’t always engage in distance fights.
Close combat skills were essential, especially as villains who saw it as a weakness often attacked up close.
After another 10 minutes of posture correction, Ho-cheol stepped back a few paces.
“The form looks about right now. Try shooting an arrow.”
The student placed the last arrow on the string.
She assumed the new stance taught by Ho-cheol, pulled the string fully, and aimed at the target.
Then she released the string.
Thwack!
The arrow flew and pierced the center of the target, embedding itself in the tree behind.
The student just looked astonished, alternating her gaze between the bow in her hand and the target.
Merely changing her stance had increased both the power and speed of the shot.
The difference was embarrassingly overwhelming.
Moreover, unlike her original, defenseless stance, the new stance allowed her to freely choose her next move.
Ho-cheol sat back down on the bench as he watched the dazed student.
“The essence of the bow isn’t long-range combat. It’s about adjusting the distance according to the opponent and selfishly taking away their options. For that, managing the tempo between actions is more important than power or accuracy.”
The student finally came to her senses and bowed her head deeply.
She bit her lips.
The stance Ho-cheol taught was undoubtedly effective, but the joy of this new realization was short-lived.
A deeper and heavier sense of depression overwhelmed her.
Just a few tens of minutes of advice had advanced her skills by several levels.
Had all her efforts until now been in vain? She couldn’t shake off that doubt.
She hadn’t even been dealing with someone who specialized in the bow.
Could this be what talent looked like?
She had thought she was the hardest worker, but that thought made her feel the lack of talent all the more acutely.
She had been striving for years before even entering the academy.
Everyone around her had criticized her for her lack of talent, but she believed that effort would not betray her.
Effort over talent, she had thought, and she never gave up.
And now it was clear.
Effort doesn’t betray you because it was never on your side to begin with.
She clenched her eyes shut.
The taste of bitter blood was in her mouth, whether from her lips or her tongue, she had bitten down too hard.
But it didn’t hurt.
Everything else was torn to shreds.
When she opened her eyes again, she looked at the target, then turned around.
She opened her backpack on the ground and packed away her bow and quiver.
“What’s wrong? Why all of a sudden?” Ho-cheol asked.
In a calm tone, the student replied, “That’s enough for today.”
Whether today’s practice was all there was, or whether it was the end of archery for her, she couldn’t tell herself.
A severe depression washed over her like a wave, and she felt helplessly swept away by it.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, Ho-cheol teased her.
“When you get the hang of it, you should practice. Are you the type who’s embarrassed to show effort or imperfection?”
The student silently continued to pack her bow and arrows.
“Well, I won’t force someone who wants to quit to keep going. Just keep at it. You have talent.”
“Talent?”
Her hand, packing the gear, paused.
The tendons on the hand holding the arrow stood out.
“Talent?”
Ho-cheol responded nonchalantly,
“Yes. You have good balance, and your absorption is decent. If you keep it up like this, you’ll improve quickly. Besides, the fact that you’ve stuck with it this long shows you’re quite ambitious… Ah, wait a sec.”
Ho-cheol stopped talking and reached into his pocket.
His phone was ringing loudly.
The number was familiar. After all, there was only one person who would call him.
He slightly pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the answer button.
“Yeah.”
[It’s not ‘yeah’! What are you doing right now?]
“Out for a walk. Doing a good deed on the side.”
[From dawn for a walk! You should have told me when you go out! You didn’t even do your morning check! And the good deed, well… I don’t know what it is, but good for you.]
“I’m wearing the tracker, so you know my location anyway.”
[I’m the one who comes instead of the special forces because I know that! Please be aware of your own situation!]
“Okay, I get it, no need to come here. I’ll head down myself. It’s just a 10-minute run; stop getting angry, you might end up clutching your neck from stress.”
He pressed the end call button and, still squatting, spoke to the back of the student’s head.
“Just try practicing the form I showed you for three hours a day. You’ll see a difference.”
Ho-cheol packed his bag hurriedly.
“Remember, if you make it as a hero, you owe it to me.”
With a teasing well-wishing, he left.
The archery range was quiet after Ho-cheol left.
The wind blew, tickling her face with her hair. Yet, she remained still in her place. It took another 10 minutes before she regained her composure.
“Talent. He said I have talent.”
The student, head bowed, mulled over those words for a long time.
Then, she took the bow out of her bag again.
***
The first day of the semester, also the day of Ho-cheol’s first lecture.
At the entrance to the bachelor’s quarters where Ho-cheol stayed, So-hee and Ho-cheol stood facing each other.
Holding a tablet in one hand, she asked,
“Hey, it’s Monday, the third of the month, at 08:17:43 AM. I’ll check for any breaches of your first contract. Have you ever felt the urge to break the law or engage in any contra-contractual activities with the Ministry of Justice?”
“No.”
Ho-cheol answered promptly, and So-hee stared at his chest for a moment.
His response, and the color of his voice visible to her, was clearly white.
She sighed in relief.
“Okay, checked. There are no breaches of contract.”
She had checked dozens of times over the last two weeks, but it was always a tense moment. Although things were relatively stable now, human affairs were unpredictable. Any hint of a different color would have been disastrous.
She quite liked the current unremarkable peace, especially considering the danger pay that came regularly for relatively easy work.
Putting the tablet in her bag, she took a step back.
The official business was over; now it was personal.
She scanned Ho-cheol up and down and clicked her tongue. Reaching out, she straightened the shoulder line of his coat, pulled at his skewed tie, and smoothed his wrinkled shirt.
“You can’t go to your first day of work looking this sloppy. People will talk.”
It seems okay now from the front.
She moved behind Ho-cheol and dusted off his back.
“Well, it’s not bad enough to be criticized.”
Ho-cheol felt awkward in his rare suit attire and kept twisting his body uncomfortably.
He had planned to go to work in comfortable sportswear, but had to wear a suit due to So-hee’s insistence.
Even though managing him was technically her main job, wasn’t this infringing on his personal life?
He thought about arguing but ended up doing as she said, as she also took care of him in his daily life. His fridge was stocked with side dishes she had brought.
“Did you prepare everything for the class? Got everything you need?”
“Yeah.”
His indifferent answer made her narrow her eyebrows slightly, but she relaxed her expression soon after. Despite his words, she had seen him preparing seriously over the last two weeks.
After all, his sentence reduction was directly tied to this; he wouldn’t just slack off.
“Do well and answer your phone on time.”
She slapped his back with her palm, making a ‘pang’ sound.
“Me doing well isn’t enough. The students need to work hard too.”
Ho-cheol waved his hand dismissively.
“Anyway, I’m off.”
***
The lecture hall for [Advanced Applications of Augmentation Traits], despite being scheduled for the brutal time slot of Monday first period, was noisy.
At the back of the classroom, a blonde female student sitting on a desk crossed her legs and said,
“The professor in charge of this class isn’t a hero?”
“What? Then, is he an external lecturer? Aren’t they only supposed to handle liberal arts? This isn’t just a major, it’s a mandatory major course.”
“No, that’s not it.”
She lowered her voice, cautious of eavesdroppers,
“I heard he’s a villain. I overheard the administrative assistants talking about it. Something about a villain rehabilitation project brought him here.”
“What?”
Everyone doubted their ears.
It was so absurd it was beyond ridicule.
“The other professors accepted that? It wouldn’t be strange if there was a protest.”
“I don’t know. According to the assistants, the dean decided it personally. No objections or challenges allowed.”
Another student leaned on his elbow and grumbled with a sigh, “Even so, there’s supposed to be some standard. Why us? Let him play with the clueless first-year chicks.”
Most of the faculty at the academy were B-grade origins, with a few being A-grade heroes, and occasionally, there was a C-grade who had achieved significant academic success.
But a C-grade villain as a professor? It was not only surprising but also a hit to their pride. Even though they were students, they were confident they could easily overpower a C-grade villain. A weaker professor than themselves? It seemed absurd.
“Should we organize a boycott of the lecture? What can we possibly learn from a C-grade?”
The dominant female student looked back. A white-haired female student was flipping through a book, uninterested in the conversation.
“Don’t you have any information?”
“No.”
She answered shortly without making eye contact.
“But are you injured? Why are you wrapping a bandage around your hand?”
The student didn’t answer but slightly raised her head to look at the seated student.
“Get off the desk.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Startled, the student quickly sat down in her own chair. The attitude was like dealing with a subordinate, rude even among peers, but no one in the room pointed it out.
She was the offspring of a current S-grade hero. In the Hero Academy, her influence was greater than that of most professors, making her an untouchable entity for anyone aspiring to be a hero. The hierarchy between the students was vast.
Clap-
The sudden silence was broken by another student, awkwardly clapping.
“Let’s think positively. What would a villain know? He’ll probably just read from the textbook during lectures. At least the grades should be easy to get.”
“That’s true.”
What kind of person would he be?
As speculations and conversations continued,
Click-
The front door of the classroom opened.
All eyes turned to the front as Ho-cheol walked in through the open door.
The classroom door opened.
Everyone fell silent.
Ho-cheol’s footsteps moved towards the podium.
Everyone held their breath.
Ho-cheol set his bag next to the podium.
All eyes were glued to him without a moment’s distraction, and the clock at the back of the classroom ticked away, reminding them that time had not stopped here.
C-grade villains were not a rare entity. Most of the students in the classroom had encountered villains of that level several times in their daily lives outside their aspirations to become heroes.
And one thing was clear.
This was a C-grade?
If this was the average for a C-grade villain, the country would have been in ruins long ago.
The presence and pressure emanating from Ho-cheol were intense.
He slowly stretched out both hands and leaned on the podium.
What would he say? Everyone stared only at Ho-cheol’s mouth.
“I am Jeong Ho-cheol, in charge of Advanced Applications of Augmentation Traits, and I will be your instructor for the next two years.”
A cliché greeting flowed out.
His voice was faint and low, as if tinged with smoke, yet oddly enough, it was clear enough for everyone in the lecture hall to hear distinctly.
“Nice to meet you.”
Cliche Novel 