The blonde female student was literally dying inside.
She only snapped at the person in front of the kiosk because they seemed utterly lost, as if they had been living in the mountains for the past decade despite her already busy schedule.
With the school year for third-year students starting in a week, the campus cafeteria was populated only by sophomores and freshmen “chicks.” Especially since it was the first day of classes, she expected freshmen to be pondering over the menu.
But a professor? And not just any professor, but the one she had seen lecturing just two hours earlier.
If there were a god, she would grab him by the scruff right now, so frustrated she felt.
While she grumbled to herself, Ho-cheol reached out and tapped the female student’s shoulder.
“I’ll grab a seat first, so just order and come over,” he said.
“Okay…” she replied.
As Ho-cheol went to find a table, she stood dejectedly in front of the kiosk.
Why couldn’t her power be to rewind time or erase someone’s memory?
Instead, she had augmentation powers!
Now she found herself in a situation where she had to share a meal with the professor she inadvertently offended. Half in a daze, she picked a meal ticket and hesitantly approached where Ho-cheol was sitting, taking a seat across from him.
Ho-cheol asked with a teasing smile, “What’s your name?”
“Ah.”
Only then did the female student realize just how foolish she had been.
The half-hour orientation barely qualified as a lecture, and since attendance wasn’t even called, it’s likely Ho-cheol wouldn’t have recognized her if she hadn’t made a fuss.
Of course, he might recognize her in the next class, potentially leading to an awkward situation, but it would at least be better than now.
She wished she could smack her forehead.
‘Idiot! Just play dumb!’
Ho-cheol, with a slightly surprised look, commented, “I thought I was free of prejudices, but ‘Ah’ as a name is still surprising. Is it a single character? What’s your surname?”
“……”
“Your parents didn’t put much thought into it, huh?”
The female student vigorously shook her head in response.
“No! I’m Jung Yae-jin.”
“Really? Well, if your name were just ‘Ah,’ that would have been odd. Yae-jin, I assume you said what you did behind my back for a reason,” Ho-cheol chuckled.
“Must have been really hungry to say that,” he added.
Yae-jin smiled awkwardly and agreed, “Yes, yes… I skipped breakfast.”
“Good thing we got past that easily,” Ho-cheol nodded slowly.
“You should always have breakfast. Especially in the augmentation class; it’s really hard without it, both physically and mentally. I skipped breakfast myself because of the nerves from the first lecture.”
“That so? Ahaha…”
As he straightened his posture and crossed his legs, the light smile that had been lingering on his lips vanished instantly. His expression was colder than during the lecture.
“I’m already full from getting chewed out by someone,” he stated.
Yae-jin’s body jerked up and down significantly.
So startled, a hiccup burst through her tightly closed lips, and a chill ran down her spine. The cold sweat running down her back wasn’t just her imagination.
She hastily waved her hands.
“No, no. I mean, since this cafeteria is frequented mostly by students, and professors usually eat at the staff cafeteria. And because you look so young from the back, I mistook you for another student or peer, haha, and your fashion sense makes you look even younger…”
She rambled on without catching her breath, spinning her eyes as she eventually lost track of her own words.
Finally, after more rambling, she slammed her forehead on the table with a thud.
“I’m sorry!”
“That’s fine, apology accepted,” Ho-cheol uncrossed his legs and coolly accepted her apology.
He had been teasing her just for fun and wasn’t really offended. Plus, teasing her more might actually take her breath away, and he couldn’t kill a student in the first week.
Yae-jin lifted her head sneakily to gauge Ho-cheol’s expression, worrying he might backstab her again over time.
“Don’t tense up like that; it makes me feel bad. I won’t make a big deal out of this, so don’t worry.”
Ho-cheol reassured her again, and she let out a sigh of relief.
Ding-dong—
Just then, the numbers on their meal tickets appeared simultaneously on the wall’s display.
Seeing Ho-cheol about to stand, Yae-jin quickly got up.
“Ah, let me get the meal tickets for you.”
“Are you worried I’ll block the way and stand there stupidly like I did with that machine?”
“No, that’s not what I meant!”
“That’s okay. I don’t like being burdened with favors,” he said, and with that, Yae-jin had no choice but to back down.
She then looked at Ho-cheol with an unexpected respect.
For someone with a villain background, every move he made was impeccably clean.
Could it be that he’s highly educated despite being a villain?
***
Ho-cheol had chosen the sweet potato cheese pork cutlet he had been wanting to try for a while, and Yae-jin picked up the daily special from the cafeteria and returned to her seat.
Ho-cheol marveled quietly at the tray across from him. “So that’s the 2,500 won menu. It looks really good.”
The tray was piled high with rice, soup, and three different side dishes.
Yae-jin, refreshing her palate, picked up her chopsticks. “That’s why it’s really popular.”
Of course, her insistence on this menu was simply because it was the cheapest option. Her budget was tight until her part-time job paycheck came in.
Yae-jin waited with her chopsticks at the ready, starting to eat only after Ho-cheol began his meal. “How are your grades?”
“Ah, yes. They were quite good in my freshman year.”
“Made a lot of friends?”
“Uh. Um. That is. There are so many lectures, and hardly any that overlap, so I don’t really have close friends… ahahaha…”
Though the conversation occasionally veered towards uncomfortable topics, they managed to navigate it reasonably well.
Worried about more awkward questions, Yae-jin repeatedly sipped her soup.
‘Is this soup going into my mouth, or my nose?’
As they continued eating, Ho-cheol, having eaten about half of his tray, flicked his spoon up and down. “So, are the lectures worthwhile?”
Yae-jin almost choked, desperately trying to suppress it, and managed a twisted smile.
A dead-on question that was as hard to deflect as a well-aimed fastball had been thrown at her, causing her side dish of bean sprouts to roll off her chopsticks.
“Villains say such things. You didn’t just let it go in one ear and out the other, did you?”
“No, not at all!” she blurted out, her body shaking.
“So, are you saying the others did?”
It felt like rolling bare-bodied into a minefield. Every word was dangerous.
Knowing that silence was the answer, she kept her mouth firmly shut.
Ho-cheol shrugged off her reaction nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal. I expected some pushback.”
That’s why the first week of lectures ended shortly without any serious lectures. “But wouldn’t it be a loss for both of us if you didn’t focus in lectures just because you didn’t like them?”
“That’s… true.”
“If there’s anything difficult or hard beyond the lectures, feel free to ask anytime.”
“Understood.”
It was unexpected.
Both his bold declaration in the first lecture and his remarks now reflected a certain mindset. She could definitely feel the essential qualities of an educator.
Suddenly, she recalled the last scene of today’s lecture with Ho-cheol.
At that time, nobody dared to speak freely due to the overwhelming atmosphere, but thinking back, he wasn’t much different from an ordinary professor.
After a moment of thought, she cautiously put down her chopsticks and asked. “Um, this is a bit off-topic from the lecture, but may I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You’re quite a special case as a professor. So, do you have the same authority as regular professors?”
“Authority?”
Ho-cheol stroked his chin with his fingertips. “What kind of authority?”
“Well, that is…”
Yae-jin pressed her index and thumb fingers together, wiggling them up and down as she gauged Ho-cheol’s reaction. “There’s something like a priority recommendation for scholarships under a professor’s authority.”
“Scholarships. I know tuition is quite cheap here.”
As expected of a Hero Academy. The country didn’t want to lose out on exceptional talents just because of money, so the tuition at Clingtone was ridiculously affordable compared to other higher education institutions. It was cheaper than a year’s tuition for the latest smartphone model.
“Ah, there’s a scholarship that cuts from tuition, and another that deposits money directly into an account. It’s the latter in this case.”
“Ah, so the goal is to get money deposited into the account?”
Ho-cheol chuckled.
She quickly denied it, interpreting his laughter as mockery. “It’s not just about the money!”
“What’s not? You obviously look very keen on money. It’s okay. I like money too. Not every hero is a self-sacrificing masochist addicted to their own sacrifices; some may pursue money. Anyway.”
He picked up his chopsticks again and tapped the ends together. “I’ll have to check on that, but I’ll let you know by the next lecture.”
“Ah, thank you.”
As they continued their meal, Ho-cheol’s gaze shifted to Yae-jin’s tray. Beyond admiration, he felt respect when he saw her tray.
He thought he had neat eating habits since he usually didn’t leave leftovers, but she was different.
Ho-cheol had completely cleaned his plate, leaving hardly a trace of sauce.
‘How did you manage that?’ he wondered as he watched.
As Yae-jin put down her chopsticks after emptying her bowl, she said, “Thank you for the meal.”
She noticed Ho-cheol still had food left and hesitated slightly. Understanding her gesture, Ho-cheol waved his hand. “Don’t worry, you can go ahead.”
Yae-jin glanced at the clock on the wall. Although it wasn’t polite to leave first, she was pressed for time. With an apologetic expression, she stood up. “I have another appointment, so I’ll be going now.”
“Alright. If you want that scholarship, participate actively in class and avoid causing trouble with strangers. Oh, wait a moment.”
Yae-jin paused halfway up, in an awkward stance. Ho-cheol asked, “Do you have an older sister? Or maybe a close relative who’s a hero?”
“No, I don’t have anyone like that.”
“Is that so?”
Relief or disappointment, Ho-cheol felt both as he sighed. “Alright, go on.”
“Yes, then.” Yae-jin returned her tray to the dish return area, glanced back at Ho-cheol with a deep bow, and quickly left the cafeteria.
Until she completely disappeared from view, Ho-cheol didn’t touch the remaining food. He picked up his chopsticks again, but his gaze remained fixed on the exit of the cafeteria. “She looks familiar.”
Ho-cheol was skeptical. He thought he had seen her somewhere before the lecture, and she greatly resembled a hero he had personally known during his villain days.
Not just any hero, but the one who had been pivotal in his reformation, a significant influence in his life. Of course, their last names were different, and he hadn’t heard any mention of her family. Moreover, Yae-jin herself said she had no heroic kin, so he assumed she just resembled that person. “Still, I’m suspicious.”
Maybe it’s worth digging a little deeper.
***
On a Saturday afternoon, at Da-yeon’s private archery range, Ho-cheol’s lecture was in full swing.
Ho-cheol, with his arms crossed, stood next to Da-yeon and instructed, “You pulled too much. I said to draw only 70% of your usual strength.”
Following his advice, Da-yeon slowly adjusted her shoulder angle. It was a subtle difference that she only realized after being corrected, but Ho-cheol caught every slight misalignment.
Despite the chilly weather, sweat poured down as if it were raining. Sweat trickled into her eyes, but there was not even a slight tremor at the tip of her bow.
“Now.”
At Ho-cheol’s command, Da-yeon released the bowstring.
Swish!
Simultaneously, she twisted her body and drew a second arrow. It was a motion she had practiced hundreds, if not thousands, of times. The movement from her toes through her entire body was fluid and flawless. Without a moment’s hesitation, she shot the second arrow.
Both arrows hit the dead center of their respective targets. The time difference between the two arrows hitting the targets was less than a second; they almost seemed to strike simultaneously.
“Tsck.”
Ho-cheol clicked his tongue and shook his head. By his standards, it was inadequate and almost pitiful.
“Too slow. Again.”
“Yes.”
Without a complaint, Da-yeon ran to retrieve the arrows from the target and returned with her bow raised. “You said we won’t move to posture correction until the time difference between two shots is less than 0.1 seconds.”
The passing mark had been much lower last time because he had improvised his coaching, but not this time. Now, Da-yeon herself had asked for the training, and he demanded much stricter and perfect results.
“I know,” Da-yeon responded calmly.
The ultimate goal of this stance was for both arrows to hit their intended targets simultaneously.
She repeated the same stance a hundred, a thousand times. Yet, Da-yeon approached each repetition as if it were her first.
She had no time to feel boredom or fatigue.
Before enrolling in the academy, many people had come to teach her various things, but she had learned nothing from them.
However, Ho-cheol was different.
If she repeated something a hundred times, she improved beyond her initial self. A thousand repetitions surpassed a hundred times her previous self.
Effort leads to progress.
This simple truth alone made her cherish the present moment to the point of ecstasy.
Based on Ho-cheol’s critiques and advice, she endlessly repeated a single stance.
And 83 minutes after Ho-cheol arrived at the archery range.
“0.089 seconds.”
She finally heard the evaluation she had been longing for.
“Finally passed.”
For the first time, he nodded his approval.
“Well done.”
His praise was brief and unemotional, but to Da-yeon, it offered a sense of achievement and satisfaction she had never experienced before.
A rush of intense pleasure swept through her. She closed her eyes and shivered slightly. A desire to possess him more fully welled up inside her.
When she opened her eyes again, the resolve in her gaze had vanished. As the tension and focus dissipated, the accumulated fatigue seemed to surge all at once, and her body swayed.
Seeing this, Ho-cheol spoke briefly. “Let’s stop here for today.”
“I can do more…”
“Don’t be stubborn like a child.”
Ho-cheol cut her off decisively.
Until just moments ago, he hadn’t interfered because her concentration was at its peak, but her physical condition had been at its limit for the past ten minutes. Any more would be torture, not training.
“Continuing in this state will only instill bad habits.”
“Okay, I’ll stop for today.”
Da-yeon nodded obediently.
As Ho-cheol had said, anything more would have been mere stubbornness. She felt dizzy, her eyes kept closing, and she longed to lie down right there on the ground, let alone make it to a bed. After all, he had originally agreed to watch her posture for only an hour, and that hour had long passed.
She took a deep breath to check her physical condition.
Her overworked muscles screamed in pain. She had sweated so much that her uniform felt heavy.
“Tomorrow, we’ll focus on image training and managing your condition…”
Ho-cheol stopped mid-sentence and abruptly lifted his head.
His gaze turned to the sky.
“You.”
Although invisible, it was unmistakably felt.
“What are you doing?”
Something up there was watching him.
Cliche Novel 