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Chapter 92
Chapter 92. Fate (3)
The door cracked open, and a head peeked in.
A familiar face.
Da-yeon looked at me cautiously, asking.
“Can we come in?”
Е̌ n̄úm̆ ȧ
I gestured silently.
The door opened wider, and Da-yeon stepped into the hospital room.
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Her white hair neatly tied back, she bowed politely.
“Excuse us.”
“Hiii…”
Ye-jin, dragging out her words, followed her in.
Ŵ е b ňо̄vе́ĺ Е̊ n̆u mа
They shuffled to my bedside.
“Others wanted to come, but we’re here as class reps,” Da-yeon said.
“Good call. Too many would cause chaos.”
I nodded.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Any kids hurt in the attack?”
Buildings got obliterated in that villain fight.
Е ñ u ma .і d̀
The Dean said no students were seriously hurt, but hearing it from those involved was different.
Da-yeon nodded quickly.
Thanks to my swift response, everyone evacuated to the bunkers, and despite the buildings collapsing, there were no casualties.
I sighed in relief.
“Good.”
I glanced at Ye-jin, unusually quiet.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Her eyes, voice, and stride lacked their usual confidence.
For someone who thrived on bravado, this was off.
Concerned, I asked?
“What’s with you?”
“N-Nothing…”
She sighed heavily, despite her words.
Ě ṅ ūmа . і̊d
I considered pressing, but Da-yeon spoke first.
“Um, this…”
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She placed a basket on the room’s central table.
“Didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
A lavish basket, adorned with ribbons, brimmed with premium fruits, each meticulously wrapped.
Too extravagant for a two-day hospital stay.
Е̊ǹ uṁӑ. іd
I replied dryly.
“Thanks.”
“Uh, me too…”
Ye-jin pulled out a hidden hand.
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“I got something, but…”
A fruit juice set, in plain, slightly dented packaging.
Е̊n̈ u m а̃ .і d
She set it on the table’s corner, sighing.
Compared to the basket’s gleaming fruits, the juice box’s cartoon fruit looked pitiful.
She felt small, head bowed, whispering.
“Sorry, that's all I could manage…”
Her voice was thick with shame.
I realized why she was subdued.
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Even for someone unbothered by poverty, the contrast was humbling.
Glancing at Da-yeon, I saw a faint surprise on her face—she hadn’t expected this.
Probably bought separately and met here.
No rivalry intended.
Good.
My response was simple.
Ẅ е b̂ ň о̆ v е ĺ Е̇ ñ uṁă
I smirked.
“Sorry for what? That juice is hard to find.”
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Given her circumstances, it was a big effort.
It’s the thought, not the price.
“I’ll eat the fruit later. Let’s crack the juice. Grab a grape one.”
Her face brightened at “favorite juice.”
W̆ e b̄n̆ӧ v̄ еl̂ E n̄ ūmа̊
“Okay!”
She opened the box, uncapped a bottle, and handed it to me.
“Hey, what about me? I went through hell too…”
So-hee, on the opposite bed, peeked from under her blanket, grumbling.
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Realizing their oversight, Da-yeon and Ye-jin turned, apologizing and comforting her, but her lips were already pouting.
Watching the comedy, I finished the juice, tossing the bottle in the trash.
Е ñ ū m а̇ .і d́
“Stop messing around. Come here.”
Da-yeon and Ye-jin stood by me.
I sat up on the bed.
“The gate ordeal gave me some thoughts.”
I recalled the Organization’s villains.
Even the grunts, not the boss, were dangerous by hero standards.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Plus, their endlessly churned high-output test subjects.
Compared to a few years ago, hero risks had skyrocketed.
My students would graduate into peak danger as rookie heroes.
Not my problem after graduation?
A bit, but not now.
Lost in thought, I shifted my hand, propping my chin like a gun with thumb and index finger.
Ĕn̊_um̌à .ĭ d
“If my students get beat out there, it’d break my heart. Right?”
Sensing something ominous, they nodded hesitantly.
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No other answer worked.
“…Right?”
“Yes.”
My finger twitched sharply.
Е n̆ um̌ а
“But with this training intensity, you’ll only suffer out there. What then?
Wait for that obvious future?”
“…No.”
“Why no answer?”
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Da-yeon shook her head.
“Exactly.”
W е̂ b nо̂ v̊ е̌ l _E n umа̌
I grinned.
Their hearts raced—not positively, more like arrhythmia.
“Tell the class: no more half-assed lectures.”
“…Huh? What?”
Even Da-yeon, who never questioned me, gaped.
What did I just say?
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Ye-jin’s jaw dropped, speechless.
“I’ve been too lax because of my position. From now on, I’m going all in.”
I stood, placing hands on their shoulders.
“When you graduate, every one of you—A-rank. The talented and driven? S-rank.”
My grip tightened.
“I’ll make it happen.”
E n̄um̃.а
I declared.
“No matter the means. Absolutely.”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
A-rank, S-rank heroes—thrilling titles.
But they couldn’t rejoice.
They trembled, silent.
Monday loomed terrifyingly.
Ẁ еb̊ ńо v é l̄ Е n ü m̀_ӓ
* * *
Monday came.
My lecture, as usual, was in a spacious training hall.
Sitting alone, I crossed my legs.
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“See the notice? I’ve been holding back. Plan a serious lecture, and it’s ‘too harsh,’ ‘dangerous,’ ‘affects stamina for other classes.’ Most got shot down. So much whining.”
I tapped my knee.
Е̇n̆.u_m̈а
“Why can’t lectures be harsh? Dangerous?”
Obviously they shouldn’t.
Students swallowed the urge to say it.
I vented fiercely.
Caring most about their safety and future, I believed the Academy’s training needed to be tougher, more dangerous.
“Harsh, dangerous training here saves your lives out there. So, I’m doing it right now.”
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The faculty would riot, but I didn’t care.
To shut them up, I’d grabbed power I never wanted.
Before work, I’d signed the deputy head papers at the Dean’s tower.
Some tedious steps remained, but the Dean would handle them.
Few could nag me now.
“Today’s topic…”
Е̄ ṅ ú m ӑ
Standing, I scanned the students.
What brutal, painful three hours awaited?
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Getting beaten to build resilience?
A joke from a group chat without me, but not impossible.
My declaration terrified them.
All eyes, tense, fixed on me. I spoke slowly.
Ẃ е̂b̈ ñо ṽ e̊l Ēn ǔ m а̊
“Create a signature move.”
“Huh?”
Someone let out a dumb noise.
My words were unexpected after that scare.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
I shrugged.
“‘Signature’ doesn’t mean killing. Heroes don’t kill.”
Еń ùm̊а
Soft laughter broke the gloom.
I raised my finger, continuing.
“A new technique, a trump card to turn the tables. Doesn’t have to be offensive. How do you make it?”
They pondered.
A trump card wasn’t conjured easily.
But I exuded confidence, like it was doable.
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Seeing their puzzled faces, I sighed.
They didn’t get it?
I curled my raised finger, clenching a fist.
Crack—
The air around it shimmered, space trembling.
“Face overwhelming violence. Fear of death, screams, final gasps. Push to your limit, then push more—until you’re screaming, I’m gonna die.”
Е́nū m̌ а . ĩ d̊
My smile vanished.
I bent, picking up a rod—not the usual leafy stick, a proper one.
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I waved it.
“Expect to ‘die’ three times each day.”
My eyes, never shown to students, were like a savage beast’s.
Sharp menace and fear made them gulp, tense.
Еñ u ḿ а._i̇ ď
“By the way, medics are on standby outside, so don’t worry.”
Who knew I’d mobilize medical staff for a lecture?
Power was nice.
* * *
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The Organization’s base.
The boss, picking a book in her study, frowned.
Е̂ nù mа .ī d̈
“What’s this?”
Sighing, she turned.
Several executives stood before her.
“Your eyes are insolent.”
Most lowered their gazes, but the lead executive met hers unflinchingly.
“Boss.”
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“Speak.”
He clenched his fist, resolved.
“The Organization’s Wavering.”
It revolved around one absolute linchpin—her.
Her overwhelming strength, cold judgment, and bold actions drew people beyond villainy.
Two years since the Organization formalized, executives found no flaws in her.
Е̄ ǹ u m̊ а́ . і́ d̊
She got annoyed, but never nervous.
Angry, but never sad.
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Urgent, but never without composure.
A true superhuman.
But recent days showed human weakness—nervousness, sadness, urgency.
She’d secluded herself, unable to quell the unrest.
Ẇе̌ b̌ n̊ ov̄ e l̄ Ẽ n̆ um̀ а̄
Her frailty sparked doubts about her leadership.
“Are you wavering?”
Her lip curled in a sneer.
“So, you question my worth?”
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Rumble—
Her overwhelming aura crushed them.
Ẅè b̌ nо̌ v ël̇ Е̊ ǹ u m̂ ă
Even trembling under suffocating pressure, the executive persisted.
“The no-kill rule burdens lower members.”
Unlike her, a supreme powerhouse, rank-and-file needed killing intent to fight effectively.
She clicked her tongue, eyes full of disdain.
“That’s why you’ll always be tagged as villains. Want power, wealth, status? Fine. Conquest runs on fear.”
If the Organization was just another villain group, so be it.
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But their goal was grander.
“For domination, not conquest, honor is essential.”
She trailed off.
Their presence had irked her, and now it grated.
They weren’t equals to converse with.
“Your heads are too high. Who dares look down on me?”
Е̇ n̄ u mа́_
Their upright stance offended her.
She kicked the lead executive’s shin.
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Crack!—
Bones shattered, and he collapsed.
The others followed, bones breaking, lying flat.
Much better.
Wе b̈ ǹ о v̀ ѐl̈ Е ň.um̄ а
She declared calmly.
“Don’t doubt. We’ll conquer the world, and the Organization will rule.”
Domination, not conquest.
This nation, then the world.
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That was the Organization’s official goal.
“You dare doubt that grand dream?”
Е n um а̄
They swallowed, tense.
Her recent wavering seemed an illusion—she was back to her lofty, unmatched self.
Only one response remained.
“S-Sorry.”
“Pathetic. Get out.”
Staggering, they left the study.
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Her displeasure deepened at their backs.
“Idiots.”
Fawning over world conquest without ability—just useful vermin she tolerated, not cared for.
Her words were never false.
The Organization would conquer this nation.
But the boss wouldn’t be her—it’d be “Sir,” Ho-cheol.
Ẅе̌ b́ n ŏv е̂ l Ё n̂u m̀ á
No place for these fools then.
She didn’t want him to see them.
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Preparations had progressed steadily.
Thinking of Ho-cheol, her calmed heart stirred again.
She chewed her thumbnail reflexively.
Wounds piled on unhealed cuts, blood dripping.
Е̇ ń ù_m̄ а
But she felt no pain.
His cold, sharp gaze in the gate tore her heart.
That was her pain, her sorrow.
It was a misunderstanding.
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She wanted to scream.
But saying so risked collapsing everything—built for him, not her.
Wеb̊ n̈о̀v̌е̊ l̄ Еň um а
She couldn’t clear it.
She couldn’t hold back anymore.
Turning, she left the study, seeking a movement-Trait operative.
“Prepare a gate. I’m going out.”
Startled but dutiful, the operative asked?
“W-Where to?”
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
She paused, swallowing.
Always rational, calculating every choice’s impact, even minor ones.
But her feelings for Ho-cheol clouded that.
One desire—to see him—drove her.
“…Clington Hero Academy. That’s where I’m going.”
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