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Ho-cheol found the current situation quite bewildering.
Of course, he had intended to ease the atmosphere somewhat and create a warm mood.
That's why he had swallowed his pride and said such embarrassing words, which he would never normally utter.
However, what he wanted was more of a "let's cheer up and navigate things well moving forward" vibe.
This was not the scene of fully grown people sniffling around a campfire on the last day of an elementary school training camp.
"Oh, seriously."
Ӗṅů m а
He muttered, flustered.
He knew he had been stingy with compliments until now.
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It was somewhat intentional.
But that didn't mean he was a consistently horrible professor who foamed at the mouth and raged at every turn.
He was strict when it mattered, relaxed when he could be, and even if he didn't use words, he often showed non-verbal actions that counted as praise, didn't he?
Who would have imagined that grown individuals would cry over a single word of praise?
Ѐ.n ŭṁ ǎ
Of course, contrary to Ho-cheol’s thoughts, the students weren't crying only because of his compliment.
The entire scenario—the "final lecture," his piece-by-piece advice during the combat exercise—felt like a complete review of all their previous lessons.
That, coupled with his deeply moving words and actions, and finally, the ultimate compliment, was too much.
Adding the suppressed emotions and stress they had accumulated during their external activities, they simply couldn't hold back their tears.
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"Oh dear. Don't cry."
Ho-cheol helped the students who were scattered on the floor to their feet one by one.
E nu m а́
Rechecking, he saw that most were merely sniffing with slightly damp eyes, and only a few highly sensitive ones truly had tears welling up in their eyes.
And surprisingly.
"Are you crying too?"
At his question, Da-yeon quickly turned her head away in embarrassment.
She was crying more intensely than any other student he had seen so far.
Because she admired Ho-cheol and craved his acknowledgment more than anyone else there, his compliment shook her heart deeply.
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Should he sigh or laugh?
Ho-cheol paused, then let out a small laugh and a sigh simultaneously.
He then crouched down and wiped the tears streaming down Da-yeon's face.
"If you're tired, stay lying down."
"No. Sniff—I can get up."
"In that case."
Е̃ ń.ü m̈.a
Ho-cheol reached out his hand again and helped Da-yeon stand.
After raising all the other students, Ho-cheol slumped down onto the chair he had been sitting on earlier.
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He pulled out a small remote control from his pocket and operated it, and the inside of the training hall lit up.
The bright light momentarily irritated their eyes, making everyone frown or cover their faces with their hands.
Ho-cheol immediately picked up a staff that was rolling nearby and pointed it at them.
"This is the same thing. How many times do you think you would have died just now in a real fight?"
Еn̆um̀ а. і̂ d́
A reaction to the sudden change in light.
While it might be unavoidable for ordinary people as a natural physical response, Awakened individuals, especially those with the greatest physical advantage like the Augmentation-type, could fully control this to a certain extent with training.
The fact that they showed such a reaction was little different from leaving a fatal weakness unattended.
Erasing the soft atmosphere from moments ago, Ho-cheol continued in a cold tone.
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"This is not a 'good to have' skill. You must master this. Understand?"
"Yes."
W̄.e bn̊ о v̄ еĺ Е̂ńu m â
A slightly crestfallen reply came back.
Ho-cheol lowered the staff he was pointing at the students and instead used the end of it to scratch the back of his head.
He sighed, then looked around at the students.
And sighed again.
Would the ground crack from the continuous sighs?
While someone was thinking that.
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"Until now…"
Ho-cheol spoke again.
"I've been quite harsh on you. Quite severe. The skill level I demanded of mere academy second-year students, the standards and criteria I applied, were all strict."
Everyone looked at Ho-cheol, surprised.
Did he know?
And yet he still did it?
Е́n̊ ùm̂ а̂..іḋ
"But sometimes, it couldn't be helped. At least my standards were objective and didn't contain any emotion."
The standards "outside" were incomparably stricter, more bizarre, and crueler than Ho-cheol’s.
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In fact, those standards constantly changed arbitrarily, making it virtually impossible to meet them.
"In reality, some of you here have experienced genuine unjustness that can't even be compared to the strictness or harshness you faced from me, haven't you?"
At his words, a few students, including Seong-woo, sighed.
They had certainly realized, through dealing with ordinary citizens, that Ho-cheol's lectures were preferable.
Ẃ_е̄ b̈ nӧ ṽ ẽ l̊ Ёṅ ûm̀ӑ
That's why Ho-cheol felt they had to be prepared well enough before graduating so they would be in no way inferior even when compared to the heroes "outside."
The point was simple.
"Rather than me going easy on you now and having you suffer abuse and get beaten up outside, isn't it much better to suffer abuse and get beaten up by me and walk around confidently outside?"
Ho-cheol spun the staff in his hand like a pen and asked the students.
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"Do you know what the most important thing is for maintaining a hero's life?"
"Maybe firmness against evil?"
E ň u m̃ ā . і̊ ď
Ho-cheol shook his head at someone's answer.
"Not that kind of clichéd spiritual theory."
"A heart that cares about citizens and justice?"
"That's important, but that's separate from a hero's life."
Ho-cheol tapped the floor with the staff.
"To last long as a hero, you must find a place for your heart to rest. And not just one, but several."
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A hero is also human, after all.
When they get exhausted and are about to break, a hero instinctively looks behind them.
Not at the path they walked, but at the place they started.
That starting point.
Their origin.
The reason they started, and the driving force that keeps them going.
W е b n.õ ṽ е̊ l _Еń u m̃ а
Although they were making confused expressions now, Ho-cheol knew better than anyone.
A hero who loses that cannot hold on.
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They instantly collapse, as if all their endurance was a lie, and fall to the bottom of the bottom.
Right now, Lee Byeong-hoo, that man, collapsed after living only for his daughter.
Although he fell to the worst case of villainy, the hero The Sun would have died even if it had been a simple accident.
"Whether it's abstract or tangible. A person or an object. An object of affection, something you can rely on. Anything is fine. The firmer and clearer that feeling is, and the more you have, the better."
Е́ n u m̌а .і̀d
It was certainly good advice, but it seemed a little out of place in the current situation.
While the students were puzzled.
"Therefore."
Ho-cheol thumped the staff on the floor.
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"You should leave that heart here, too."
Ho-cheol stood up, tapping the staff on the floor multiple times.
Е̄n ùm а̇
"What you can look to is a criterion you can rely on that will never waver. An absolute standard and belief."
His voice, as he looked around at the students, contained an incredibly firm and resolute will.
"When you face an insurmountable, mighty enemy. A huge wall. Turn around anytime and lean on the heart you left here."
Just half a year.
And yet, half a year.
During that never-short period, Ho-cheol had already opened his heart to them.
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And the only thing Ho-cheol could give them was.
"Because I will solve it unconditionally."
Only the overwhelming strength that once nearly destroyed this country.
The students were completely captivated, staring blankly at Ho-cheol.
Ho-cheol then chuckled and waved his hand.
"That concludes the lecture."
Ӗ ňüm̃а̂
Go home.
***
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Ho-cheol checked the time after sending the students back.
It was late at night, past midnight.
Considering the Time Acceleration Device had been operating at five times speed, he had kept them for several hours under the pretext of a lecture.
Thanks to the five-times device, it ended in just over an hour; without it, he would have seen the sun rise.
Wе̂ bn o v е̊l̇ Ё n um̌ӓ_
When he returned to the accommodation not far from the training hall.
So-hee and Ji-an, who were already sulking, sat on the sofa and wouldn't even look at Ho-cheol.
He had promised to come back before midnight to see the New Year's bell ringing, but he had ended up arriving after the year had turned.
Pouty lips, tightly crossed arms, and bodies turned to the side.
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Ho-cheol smiled awkwardly at the sight of the two loudly proclaiming I'm sulking! with their whole bodies.
"Ah, I'm sorry, okay."
Е́ ǹum̆ӓ.id̃
Ho-cheol apologized, but he didn't look particularly sorry.
I was late because I was working, not playing! Besides, he couldn't just send the kids back in the middle of the lecture, could he?
So-hee and Ji-an knew it couldn't be helped, so after a short while, they gave up sulking and subtly moved away from the middle of the sofa, making room for Ho-cheol to sit.
Of course, their posture remained the same as when they were sulking.
He slumped down into the spot that had finally opened up between them.
Ho-cheol, seated between the two, asked.
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"So, did you see the bell ringing?"
"Yes."
"Did you make a wish?"
"Well, roughly."
So-hee replied grumpily, then stood up from her seat.
"I'm going to sleep."
Ӗ n ūm̊ а
Then, she walked straight into Ho-cheol's room and closed the door.
"…Why?"
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Why is she going to my room if she's going to sleep?
Ji-an's voice reached the bewildered Ho-cheol's ears.
"She must be really disappointed. She was looking forward to it."
Ji-an smiled cunningly, as if she hadn't been sulking at all, and nestled close to him.
Е̊ nu m а. і̊d̊
In reality, she felt no disappointment.
So-hee was the only one who cared about spending the New Year together.
She had only pretended to sulk to play along, but now that So-hee was gone, the act was no longer needed.
Clinging to Ho-cheol's arm, she tilted her head back, resting her chin on his arm, and looked up at him.
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Ho-cheol smiled awkwardly at the proximity and gently tapped her forehead.
"Did you make a wish, too?"
Е ṅ üḿа
"Of course, I did."
"Oh, really? What did you wi—"
However, before Ho-cheol could finish, she reached out and covered his mouth.
"If I answer that, it'll bring bad luck!"
Ho-cheol blinked, unable to understand.
He belatedly removed her palm and asked.
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"Even asking? Couldn't you just not answer?"
"Ah, is that right?"
Ji-an stuck her tongue out and giggled foolishly.
"Honestly. Anyway, it's late, so you should go to sleep too."
"Okaaaay—"
With a drawn-out reply, they both got up from the sofa.
Е̂ n ùm а̄
Ho-cheol went into his room to try and console So-hee, leaving Ji-an alone in the living room.
Her eyes shone.
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The sharp gaze, reminiscent of her villain days, focused like a predator on its prey, replacing the slightly clumsy, naive look from before.
She looked at the hand that had just covered Ho-cheol's mouth and grinned.
"Heheheh."
Naturally, the whole sequence of actions was calculated.
Е̊ n u̇ m̂ а̃
And as a result, the feeling of Ho-cheol's lips was still vividly on her palm.
Ho-cheol was rigorously strict about the level of skinship, but he was surprisingly soft when it came to indirect contact.
She muttered, giggling as she looked at her palm.
"One year from now…!"
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***
January 1st.
Еňu̇ m̀ а́
New Year's Day.
For people around the world, it was a meaningful day to start the year, and crucially, it was a national holiday.
However, for Ho-cheol, it was just the start of the same old day, carrying no special significance.
It was even more so for his fake identity as a Sidekick.
Did crime in the world care about weekdays, weekends, or holidays?
Naturally, a day off was meaningless.
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As he was getting ready for work early in the morning, an unexpected individual came to his accommodation.
He wasn't exactly a welcome guest, nor was he an unwelcome guest to the point of being chased out; Ho-cheol couldn't find an appropriate description.
He seated the outsider across from him at the dining table.
And though no one asked her to, Ji-an prepared coffee and scurried over.
The coffee was placed on the table with a clattering sound.
But there was only one cup.
W е́ b_n̆о̃ v̈е l̄ Ѐñ û m̈ а̊
Since it was placed in front of Ho-cheol, whose share it was, was obvious.
Ho-cheol shrugged, looking at Ji-an standing beside him.
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"Well, I understand if you dislike him, but you should at least offer some minimal hospitality."
"Tch."
Ji-an clicked her tongue and went back to the kitchen to tear open a coffee mix stick package.
Ho-cheol shook his head and turned his attention back to the outsider.
W ӗ b n̆ оv̂ е l Е̄nūm̄а̊
He crossed his leg lightly and asked.
"So. What brings you here?"
At the question, the uninvited guest, the Bureau Director of the Hero Association's Legal Department, slowly opened his mouth.
"I need help."
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