10 minutes after the battle broke out.
Smack!
The last villain fell to the ground after being punched in the jaw by a student.
Immediately, the surrounding students rushed in to bind the villain’s hands and feet, securing him.
During the initial stages of the battle, they used any means necessary to gang up on and subdue the villains, but after taking down nearly ten of them, they came to a realization.
This battle was a priceless experience money couldn’t buy, and it would be a waste to end it with mere one-sided beatings.
Naturally, one-on-one matches began to form. Unless it was a dire situation, the other students refrained from interfering and waited until the match was decided.
A student stared blankly at the villain he had just knocked down. Then, he sank to the ground.
“Hah…”
He clenched his fist tightly.
A villain might be evil, but they were still a person.
The sensation he felt when he first used his fist and abilities against a human being was… chilling enough to send shivers down his spine just by recalling it.
His hands trembled uncontrollably, and cold sweat poured incessantly. Even when he gripped his wrist with his other hand, the shaking didn’t stop.
He could now understand why senior students who participated in their first live combat often lost their mental stability or, in some cases, dropped out altogether.
Yet, an indescribable thrill and sense of fulfillment swelled from deep within his chest and coursed through his entire body.
In his first year, when he defeated holographic villains or combat dummies, he had never felt anything like this.
Now he understood why heroes couldn’t give up their calling.
Meanwhile, far away, Ho-cheol, who had confirmed that the last villain was down, stood up from a chair improvised from the stacked bodies of three villains.
The only ones left standing were the students, with villains lying sprawled on the ground. Of course, even the students were far from being in good condition.
However, none of them were gravely injured, nor were they paralyzed by fear.
Ho-cheol’s carefully orchestrated, safe, and appropriately challenging live combat training had undoubtedly succeeded.
As soon as he stood up, the students’ gazes turned to him. One of them cautiously raised their hand and asked,
“Is it… over now?”
“All villains are incapacitated,” Ho-cheol declared.
At his announcement, everyone relaxed, either sitting down or outright collapsing to the ground.
The actual combat had been short, and the level of danger was much lower than any real-world battle outside the academy.
However, the pressure of a first live battle and the fear of death made the experience intensely overwhelming.
Ho-cheol walked toward the students.
“Gather around.”
The scattered students struggled to lift their heavy bodies and slowly gathered around Ho-cheol.
Seeing them barely managing to stand in line, he added briefly,
“You can sit or lie down comfortably while listening.”
As if they had been waiting for those words, the students collapsed again.
At least he’s considerate.
It was a minimal gesture, but right now, even that felt like a blessing.
“First, is anyone injured? Not just minor muscle pain or bruises, but fractures, lacerations, bleeding, or severe dizziness?”
Hearing this, the students quickly glanced around. After exchanging looks a few times, they answered that no one was injured.
“That’s a relief. Then…”
Ho-cheol pulled a notebook from his pocket.
“I’ve graded everyone’s combat performance.”
The students, who had been slumping in exhaustion, suddenly perked up in disbelief.
“I didn’t evaluate just the fighting itself, but your reactions to unexpected situations, positioning, initial responses, speed of clearing threats, teamwork, and follow-up actions after subduing the villains—all of it.”
The students were even more bewildered.
It wasn’t as though Ho-cheol had been merely observing. He had also fought the villains himself. While he had subdued them faster than anyone else, could he really have had the time to assess everyone else?
No, more than that, was it even physically possible to observe and score the combat performances of over 40 students simultaneously?
Before they could voice their doubts, Ho-cheol opened his notebook.
“These scores don’t directly affect your grades, but they quantify your current skill level. Use this as a stepping stone to improve further. Starting with number one, I’ll announce the scores in order. Number one, 3 points. Number two, 4 points. Number three, 5 points. Number four, 7 points. Number five, 2 points…”
Most scored below 5 points. Only about one in five managed to score 6 points or higher.
Everyone focused intensely on hearing their own scores. Some despaired at their near-zero scores, while others smiled faintly if they surpassed 5 points.
At least no one scored zero—that was the one consolation.
After calling scores in a monotone and at regular intervals, Ho-cheol suddenly paused for the first time.
Then,
“Number 37, 8 points.”
It was the first 8-point score—a remarkable achievement.
Ye-jin, the owner of the score, sprang up from where she had been lying flat.
I’m in first place, aren’t I?
She immediately turned her head toward Da-yeon, who was sitting against a wall nearby. She flashed a faint but deliberate smile.
Da-yeon tried to ignore the look and smile.
However, her body moved on its own. As she stared at Ho-cheol, she bit her lips hard, and the veins on her hand gripping her bow stood out.
It was a chaotic battle.
The situation was far from ideal for utilizing her specialty, the bow. Unable to fire even a single arrow, she had to rely solely on close combat to subdue the villains.
Compared to Ye-jin, whose main weapon was knuckles, she was clearly at a disadvantage. Even if her score turned out lower, it couldn’t be helped.
It didn’t mean she had lost. Not at all…
But then, a fleeting, ominous thought crossed her mind.
Could they possibly be deciding the class leader based on these scores?
Before she knew it, it was her turn to hear her score.
“Number 40, 8 points.”
The tension in her hand gripping the bow relaxed.
She let out a sigh of relief. While it was disappointing not to achieve a perfect score, at least she hadn’t relinquished the top spot. In fact, earning the same score under less favorable circumstances was effectively a victory.
Ye-jin, who had been smiling triumphantly until a moment ago, snapped her head around and clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“Number 43, 4 points.”
After calling out everyone’s scores, Ho-cheol closed his notebook.
He briefly observed the students chatting about their scores, then brought his fingers together and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Barely holding back harsher words, he finally spoke.
“This is dreadful. Not only is there no perfect score, but not a single one of you even scored above 10. What exactly did you learn in your first year?”
As if on cue, everyone fell silent.
A brief pause ensued before Ye-jin slowly raised her hand.
Ho-cheol gave a slight nod, signaling her to speak.
“By any chance… is the perfect score not 10 points?”
“It’s out of 100. Did you seriously think it was 10 points?”
The moment of doubt became a solidified truth.
Ho-cheol clicked his tongue, his expression a mix of incredulity and disdain. His cold gaze was enough to make the students lower their heads.
The atmosphere grew heavier, especially since most of them had thought they had done reasonably well, only to face such harsh results.
“In today’s battle, you acted out of fear of getting hurt, of dying. All you did was wield violence against villains who were desperate and reckless. At best, you were government-certified thugs. That’s far from the essence of being a hero.”
Even the students who scored relatively high had only maintained composure and responded adequately post-conflict, which earned them their scores. But that wasn’t true hero behavior either.
“By the midterm exam, make sure you’re capable of achieving at least double-digit scores. At least, this was your first real battle.”
Honestly, he had expected at least one student to lose their composure entirely, maybe even be irreparably shaken. The results, in a good way, exceeded his expectations.
Ho-cheol nodded and, erasing his cold demeanor, smiled lightly.
“Well done.”
Though brief, those words carried considerable weight, lifting some of the gloom from the students.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
As the atmosphere began to settle, someone urgently raised a hand, pointing behind Ho-cheol.
“Behind you! Look behind you!”
Ho-cheol turned slowly in response to their panic.
At some point, the second of the villain trio had regained consciousness and crawled toward the wall of mist. He thrust his hand into the fog.
“Got up faster than expected. I thought it was some rat scurrying around,” Ho-cheol muttered as he watched.
The villain glared at Ho-cheol, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. From beneath his tattered eyepatch, blood trickled down, amplifying the wretchedness of his appearance.
“You bastard… Next time we meet, I’ll kill you without fail. Your family, friends, loved ones—I’ll leave none alive. I’ll cut off their limbs and make them crawl on the ground even more pathetically than I am now!”
“Hmm.”
Ho-cheol merely observed him with an expressionless face.
“A frightening threat. But useless.”
Crossing his arms, he gave a slight beckoning gesture with his hand.
“They’re already all dead. Everyone I cared for and everyone who cared for me.”
At Ho-cheol’s taunt, the villain spat out a string of curses and threats before rolling himself into the mist.
The black fog swallowed him and then vanished without a trace, as if it had been waiting for him to retreat.
“We let one of the main culprits get away,” Ho-cheol said, turning back to the students.
“To make such a mistake while letting our guard down—what a shame.”
Mistake? Not intentional?
Ho-cheol’s tone and demeanor didn’t seem regretful or accidental in the slightest.
Yet no student was bold enough to point that out.
Ho-cheol spoke again, as if anticipating their thoughts.
“Through today’s live combat, you’ve experienced the entire process—from a villain’s ambush to response, subjugation, and even their escape. You must have learned something, no matter how small.”
It felt more like a warning than a conclusion.
And their unease turned into reality with his next words.
“Analyze today’s incident from the perspectives of a hero, a civilian, and a villain. Identify areas for improvement and submit your reports next week.”
The students nodded gloomily.
They hadn’t expected an assignment. While feedback like this was crucial for growth, no student in the world welcomed homework.
“All the battle records are stored in holographic form at the education center. If needed, you can request access at the administration office. That’s all.”
Ho-cheol checked his watch briefly.
“Take a 10-minute break, then we’ll resume the lecture.”
The announcement sent a ripple of unease through the students.
They had just finished a life-or-death struggle with villains, and on top of that, they’d been given an assignment. Surely this was the natural point for the lecture to end, wasn’t it?
Perhaps sensing their questioning gazes, Ho-cheol furrowed his brow and asked,
“The lecture time isn’t over yet. Surely no one has questions—or complaints, do they?”
The murmuring that had filled the room came to an abrupt halt. The students exchanged cautious glances, but this time, even Ye-jin and Da-yeon lowered their eyes silently.
The students, who had thought moments ago that Ho-cheol wasn’t entirely unreasonable, quickly changed their minds.
Ho-cheol was an even crueler devil than the villains.
But, much to Ho-cheol’s dismay, the lecture couldn’t continue.
Less than five minutes into the break, the academy’s security team burst through the doors.
***
A dimly lit room.
Out of the empty air, black mist began to form. From within, the second of the villain trio crawled out and collapsed onto the floor.
“Aaagh!”
Covered in wounds, he rolled on the ground before finally propping himself up against a wall. With trembling hands, he pounded the wall in frustration.
“Damn it! That bastard!”
He had escaped purely by luck.
Ho-cheol’s attack had barely missed a critical point, allowing him to regain consciousness relatively quickly. But he had been unable to help his unconscious brothers.
Grinding his teeth, he vowed bloody vengeance.
First, he had to get away. The city was uncomfortably close to the academy. No matter how well he disguised himself, if the academy decided to comb through the city, it was only a matter of time before he was caught.
As he struggled to move his aching body and clean up any evidence—
Creak.
The door suddenly opened.
No one was supposed to know about this place. No one should have come.
Startled, the second brother looked up at the door—and froze in place.
Standing in the doorway was someone who should never, under any circumstances, be here.
His voice came out as a panicked shout.
“Why—why are you here?!”
He had confirmed the individual boarding a plane, fully prepared to leave the country. He had even accounted for potential complications by verifying the flight departure.
By now, he should be overseas.
The academy’s headmaster stepped into the room with a casual smile, lightly tapping his fingers together.
“Didn’t you lot chase me out yourselves? At my age, flying is quite the ordeal. The in-flight meals don’t suit my taste either.”
He chuckled mischievously.
“So I just had the plane turn around midway. It’s actually my plane, so I have some leeway before crossing borders. Perks of being an S-rank hero, you know. Something villains like you could never hope to understand.”
The second brother, muttering “Why, why?” like a broken record, stared at the headmaster in disbelief.
The headmaster shook his head as if pitying him.
“Did you really think that sly bastard would let you go so easily?”
He raised a finger and tapped the back of his neck.
“There’s a tracker on you. That’s why he let you go—in hopes of finding your hideout.”
Panicking, the villain tore at the inside of his collar and found the nearly invisible tracker. He ripped it off and crushed it in a fit of anger.
“Of course, neither he nor I expected you to use a teleportation ability for your escape.”
The headmaster reached out and lightly tapped the villain’s eyepatch.
Beep.
“I’ve also turned your eyepatch into a bomb. Oh, and don’t try taking it off. If you tamper with it, it’ll explode immediately. The blast radius is about 50 centimeters—enough to leave nothing behind.”
Fifty centimeters? That was just a polite way of saying it would blow his head off entirely.
Surveying the room, the headmaster walked over to a nearby chair.
“Interrogating an A-rank villain legally can be a real pain. They rarely confess their other crimes, and it’s hard to extract information. And these days, there are people who insist we don’t use abilities that infringe on human rights.”
Groaning theatrically, he sat down, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together.
“Well then, speak up. Whether your words are your last will or valuable intel is entirely up to you.”
Cliche Novel 