Ho-cheol twisted his nose bridge in discomfort.
He extended his hand to the side.
“Bow.”
Without a word, Da-yeon placed the bow and arrow into his hand.
Though she couldn’t understand the situation, Ho-cheol’s expression was more serious—no, it was outright dangerous—than ever before.
One thing was clear: it wasn’t the right moment for her to speak carelessly.
More than anything, there was a palpable anticipation in her heart that she might witness Ho-cheol’s true abilities in this tense atmosphere.
“You arrogant bastard.”
Ho-cheol muttered irritably as he nocked an arrow onto the string.
A mere gaze shouldn’t have been enough to cause such irritation.
After all, even the watch on his wrist was constantly monitoring his every move.
But the gaze from above carried evident hostility, obsession, and something far more lethal.
The negative emotions, which he had become intimately familiar with during his time as a villain, scratched at his nerves.
He raised his bow and aimed toward the direction of the gaze.
How dare they, without knowing their place.
Creak
The bow bent to its limit, creaking as if it would snap.
Though it was merely the act of pulling a string, the ensuing impact was anything but light.
The space around Ho-cheol distorted, and a heat haze rippled outward.
Unable to withstand the pressure, Da-yeon, who stood beside him, collapsed to the ground.
It wasn’t just the air—it felt like the very space itself had grown heavy.
Struggling to breathe, she raised her head to look at Ho-cheol.
From below, he didn’t appear human—he merely took on a human shape.
He was cold like the deep ocean’s abyss yet burned fiercely like blazing flames.
Just as Ho-cheol’s gaze deepened and darkened further…
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!
Suddenly, his wristwatch rang out sharply.
The shrill mechanical noise clashed with the antique design of the watch.
It was a warning alarm indicating he was nearing the maximum output allowed by the association.
“Tsk.”
Ho-cheol clicked his tongue.
If he couldn’t control his temper and maintained his output, the special forces would storm into the academy for breach of contract.
Forget leniency or his position as a professor—everything would be over.
He couldn’t afford to ruin everything over a few pests.
Taking a slow breath, he reined in his power.
The fact that he couldn’t even use 10% of his full strength irritated him, but a promise was a promise.
The overwhelming presence that had pressed down on the space disappeared gradually and eventually vanished entirely.
With the power restrained, the watch returned to silence, as if nothing had happened.
At the same time, he released the string.
Swish!
The arrow vanished in an instant, becoming a mere dot in the distance.
He stared at the sky for a moment, but the gaze he had sensed earlier was no longer there.
Letting out a sigh, he lowered the bow and turned toward Da-yeon, who was still crouched awkwardly on the ground.
He handed the bow back to her.
“Thanks.”
“Yes.”
Accepting the bow, Da-yeon wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked,
“But… what just happened?”
“Hmm.”
After a brief moment of contemplation, Ho-cheol ran his hand through his hair.
“There was a strange pervert.”
He shrugged.
“Not anymore.”
***
A pitch-black room where not even a sliver of light reached.
“Aaaaargh!”
A man rolled on the floor, screaming.
“My eye! My eye!”
Creak
The door opened, and another man entered, clicking his tongue in disdain at the sight of the writhing figure.
“Come on, little brother. Stop whining—it’s not even a real eye.”
At those words, the man called ‘Little Brother’ stopped screaming and looked up.
Blood dripped from his clenched left eye.
“Big Brother, you say the cruelest things! Even if it’s a prosthetic, I told you it’s linked to my nerves, so the pain is the same!”
Each shout was punctuated by blood dripping onto the floor.
His older brother recoiled, grimacing in disgust.
“Ugh. You clean that up.”
Bang! Bang!
His younger brother slammed his fists on the floor in frustration.
“You bastard! You piece of trash!”
“You bragged about it being the ultimate undetectable technique. So what happened? You got caught in just four days?”
Ignoring the mockery, the younger brother shouted back,
“I wasn’t caught!”
The academy’s defense system covered the entire campus in a spherical shield, detecting anything within a 300-meter altitude—even tiny insects flying by.
However, his ‘eye’ was stationed over 400 meters up.
No matter how advanced the academy’s defense system was, it shouldn’t have been able to detect it.
Moreover, the eye was enhanced with top-tier traits like ‘invisibility’ and ‘presence elimination,’ each costing billions.
Despite all that, it had been spotted purely by accident.
With his arms crossed, the older brother asked,
“Then what’s all this about? From the looks of it, I figured you’d miscalculated the range and got zapped by electricity.”
“Not the target or the academy’s defense system! Someone else shot me!”
“Oh? And you saw who?”
His older brother widened his eyes in surprise.
He dragged a chair to the table and sat down.
In the center of the table was a monitor connected to the mechanical eye, recording everything his younger brother had seen.
“Let’s see how impressive this guy is.”
He pressed the playback button, and the recorded scene of Ho-cheol began to play.
Watching Ho-cheol intently, the older brother muttered,
“He’s young. Too young to be in the academy.”
On screen, Ho-cheol raised his bow and aimed.
The arrow grew larger, and with a soft thud, the video abruptly ended.
“He couldn’t have aimed directly at you… He’s got good instincts. Let’s see…”
Taking out his phone, he quickly tapped on the screen, comparing the monitor and his phone.
His head tilted in confusion.
“There’s no record of him in last year’s directory. Must be a newly appointed professor.”
He’s young.
And his instincts are sharp.
But that was the extent of his assessment.
From what he saw on the monitor, Ho-cheol’s abilities were unimpressive.
It took a long time to aim, and the power of the charged arrow was merely average.
At best, if he were a hero, he would barely rank as a B-grade.
Moreover, being a professor at the academy rather than an active hero at his age clearly indicated some serious defect that prevented him from functioning in real combat.
To those who dismissed even A-grades as insignificant, Ho-cheol’s existence didn’t even qualify as a minor variable.
The younger brother staggered to his feet and pulled an eyepatch from his pocket, covering his left eye.
“That bastard! Do you know how much this eye costs?”
It was a top-tier prosthetic eye, with a minimum price starting in the billions.
He hadn’t even used it for a few weeks, and now it was ruined.
The younger brother stomped the ground irritably, vowing to rip out the bastard’s eye if they ever crossed paths again.
The older brother crossed his arms and shook his head.
“What does it matter? If this job succeeds, you can eat that eye like candy for all I care.”
“So, is the deal done?”
“That’s why I came back.”
“How much is it?”
He had been waiting for this question. He could hardly contain his excitement, itching to boast. Standing up with a grin, the older brother declared,
“When I pushed them for more, they easily agreed to raise it. 5 billion won for killing the target. 7 billion if we bring back the body.”
“Wow, 5 billion just for killing them.”
The younger brother was genuinely impressed by the spender’s extravagance. Who were these people, to throw around money like it was nothing?
“Who is that person anyway? How do they have so much money?”
The younger brother tried to recall the events from a few months ago.
A small villain organization he had never even heard of.
Not only were they unknown, but they hadn’t even made any waves in the underground world.
Yet they had such financial power.
“Do you think that’s the end of it?”
The older brother couldn’t suppress his laughter anymore.
The unpleasant sound of his laughter echoed through the room.
Barely able to hold back his grin, he added,
“1 trillion won if we capture them alive.”
“Limbs?”
“As long as they’re breathing, it doesn’t matter.”
The younger brother was dumbfounded and let out a shallow gasp.
Then he smiled broadly, revealing his gums.
“Getting that much money for taking out a single brat? This is like hitting the jackpot. Time to turn our lives around.”
These three brothers were a small-time villain group operating solely among themselves.
Due to their limited size, they rarely came across such lucrative opportunities.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
The younger brother erased his smile and asked,
“So, where’s the youngest?”
“He’s busy gathering bait. He says he’s already got about a hundred, so we can set a date soon.”
They exchanged unpleasant smiles and turned their gaze to the side.
The wall was covered with hundreds of photos, all of a single person.
***
As dusk settled, Ho-cheol headed toward the dean’s tower.
He worried that the dean might not be there since it was the weekend, but fortunately, it wasn’t a wasted trip.
Though surprised by Ho-cheol’s sudden visit, the dean let him into his office without any resistance.
“Dropping by unannounced on a weekend evening… What’s this about?”
Perched on the armrest of the sofa, Ho-cheol gave a brief account of what had happened earlier that day.
When he finished, the dean set down the document he was holding.
Spinning the pen in his hand, the dean let out a sigh.
“Malice bordering on murderous intent, you say.”
“Yeah. Judging by the vibe, they didn’t seem like amateurs who’d only killed a few people. Though I’m not sure now, if I judge them by the standards of my time, they’d easily be rated A-grade.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“More than dangerous, they seemed insane.”
The dean stood from his seat and sat opposite Ho-cheol.
“Since you’re the one saying this, it’s unlikely to be a simple misunderstanding.”
Due to his past crimes, Ho-cheol’s character remained difficult to trust.
It’s easy to lose trust, but regaining it is another story.
That being said, the dean acknowledged Ho-cheol’s abilities.
If someone like him was using such intense expressions, this wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
“But I must admit, this is surprising. You don’t seem like the type to report or bother about such matters.”
“That’s precisely why I came to you.”
Ho-cheol placed his feet on the table between the sofas.
“After thinking it over, it seems like those bastards aren’t after me. They’re targeting the students.”
The dean’s expression turned far more serious than before.
“They’re targeting the students? What makes you think that?”
“It’s sloppy and excessive.”
He raised two fingers and waved them.
“If they knew who I really was, they wouldn’t use such a crude method to monitor me. It’s obvious they’d get caught. And if they were targeting me under my fake identity, that’s even stranger.
Why would they come after me, a mere C-grade villain?”
After some thought, the dean asked,
“While that may explain why you aren’t the target, it doesn’t necessarily prove they’re after the students either. And put your feet down.”
While it’s true that academy students are potential threats to villains, the sheer number of active heroes—who are far more dangerous—reaches the tens of thousands.
There’s no reason to target fresh, inexperienced students.
“No.”
Ho-cheol firmly rebutted.
“They’re not targeting the academy’s students in general. They’re after the offspring of an S-grade hero, which is enough motive.”
The dean furrowed his brows.
He didn’t need to think long—only one student fit that description.
Rubbing his face, the dean sighed.
His tired expression made him look years older in an instant.
“…I know who you’re talking about. I’ll ask later why you were with her over the weekend, but if that’s the case, this is a very complicated situation.”
He twisted his mustache between his thumb and forefinger.
“Security is already tight, and our budget is stretched thin, but we’ll have to reinforce it further.”
Hearing that, Ho-cheol couldn’t hide his exasperation.
He heaved a deep sigh and pressed his thumbs against his temples.
“This is ridiculous. Right, I completely forgot. You’re still a hero after all.”
Ho-cheol opened his eyes and stared at the dean.
“Did you think I came here just to hear you say you’d increase security?”
“Then what do you want? Surely you’re not suggesting we send the student home?”
“That’s exactly the problem with you hero types.”
Ho-cheol clicked his tongue in genuine disdain.
“Why are you just waiting for them to make a move? Because you’re heroes? And they’re villains? Is self-defense that important to you? Stop clinging to such outdated ideals.”
Even after experiencing all that, they still haven’t changed their attitude—probably won’t until the day they die.
“Old man, what’s important to you right now? Your pride as a hero? The rules you’ve set for yourself as a dean? The law as a citizen? No, it’s something simpler—the students. Their lives. Is there anything more important than that?”
“…No, there isn’t.”
“It’s the same for me. Law? Rules? Morality? Of course, they matter, and it’s good to follow them. But not more than a person’s life.”
Ho-cheol lowered his legs from the table, leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice.
“Instead of sitting idle, waiting for villains who may strike at any moment…”
He straightened up, leaned back comfortably against the sofa, and crossed his legs.
Clenching his fist, he lightly tapped the armrest of the sofa.
“Let’s strike first.”
The dean laughed in disbelief, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
“You can’t condemn someone for a crime they haven’t committed. They haven’t even made an attempt yet—no, they’re completely innocent for now.”
“I know that much. I’m not saying we should barge into their hideout and tear their limbs off or something.”
Ho-cheol opened his clenched fist and twisted his wrist back and forth.
“What I’m suggesting is that we set the stage perfectly in advance and make a preemptive move to prepare for any risks.”
The dean stared silently at Ho-cheol for a long time.
“You know, with that expression, you look very much like a villain.”
“So, do you dislike the idea?”
The dean raised a hand and touched the eyepatch covering his eye.
He couldn’t bring himself to say he disliked it.
After biting his lip a few times, he sighed and answered.
“Let’s hear it first.”
“Good.”
Satisfied with the answer, Ho-cheol stood up.
With his hands clasped behind his back, he began to walk in circles around the dean’s office.
“No matter how inferior villains may be compared to heroes, they are dangerous because we never know when or where they’ll show up.”
After about ten laps around the room, Ho-cheol returned to his original spot.
Turning sideways, he spoke.
“But what if we knew exactly when and where they would appear?”
“Then we could easily subdue and arrest them.”
“Exactly. Just like dealing with street thugs. That’s all they’d be.”
The dean silently nodded in agreement.
Heroes are always at a disadvantage.
When villains commit crimes, heroes must react based on information, always cleaning up the aftermath.
“So, let’s flip the idea. Let’s be the ones to choose the day.
A day when the villains have no choice but to show up.”
“How?”
“Your role in this is quite simple. So simple, in fact, that it’s almost non-existent.”
Ho-cheol closed his eyes briefly, organizing the plan that floated in his mind.
Then, he opened them and began.
“First…”
He started explaining.
Cliche Novel 