Chapter 20: Summons
Who’d have thought he’d say something like that?
Few could stay calm when their organization was insulted to their face.
If this weren’t a public cafeteria with students around, Se-ah might’ve flipped the table.
Did he pick this place knowing that?
If so, he was no ordinary schemer.
Clang—!
Water splashed from the cup she slammed down.
Lowering her voice menacingly, she growled, her eyes fierce.
“Can you take responsibility for that?”
“Responsibility?”
Ho-cheol smirked, shrugging.
“Why should I?”
“What?”
“Even if Clington professors are public figures, this isn’t an official setting. Just a casual meal. Off the record. Whatever I say is just an opinion. Do I need to be accountable for table talk?”
Propping his chin, he tapped the table with his fingertips—tap, tap.
“Last week’s villain attack, everything lined up too perfectly. Feels like academy info’s leaking out. So, who’s doing it?”
His relaxed demeanor made Se-ah’s lips twitch in irritation.
“So you’re saying the union’s the cause?”
“Based on evidence and logic, it’s the most likely.”
Maintaining his calm, he continued.
“Don’t take it personally. I’m just asking since the union boss is right here.”
“Did you join the union just for that?”
“Interpreting it like that? You guys pitched it first, bragging about benefits, clinging to me.
Changing your tune now’s inconvenient.”
Cooling off slightly, Se-ah took a sip of water.
“For a personal opinion, my position makes it hard to ignore. Instead of answering your nonsense, how about I kick you out of the union?”
Ho-cheol’s surprised expression gave way to laughter.
“That’s an unexpected response.”
Two days had passed since her ambush.
He hadn’t wasted that time, gathering enough info in those days.
“This academy’s refreshingly straightforward. School ties, regional ties, blood ties—and trait ties. Similar traits mean support, regardless of ideology or temperament.”
His tapping quickened—tap, tap, tap.
“The president, being emission-type, has that department locked down. Who’d dare join the union? Conversely, manipulation-types are yours, with you as chair and department head. Anomaly’s a ghost department, irrelevant. Operators and support item makers are just fillers.”
Se-ah found the rhythm grating.
“The academy’s power struggle hinges on pulling in augmentation-types. It’s been balanced. My influence, overseeing an entire year, isn’t small, even as a villain.”
His fingers stopped.
“Even with all that politics, if you’d kick me out for emotional reasons…”
He pointed at her.
“Go ahead.”
Se-ah gripped her cup, thumb grazing its rim.
Outwardly angry, her inner thoughts were complex.
Anyone could deduce this power dynamic.
Acting on it with such certainty was another matter.
Even in private, especially in private, most wouldn’t dare.
Did he have a trusted source?
Or was he just a warm body for numbers?
After a pause, she asked?
“Can you prove your innocence?”
“If I weren’t innocent, I wouldn’t be here piling on mini rice bowls and fried udon with cheesy katsu. I’d be back with the association.”
Obvious.
She knew he was among the cleanest at the academy, having endured intense scrutiny for a mere C-grade villain.
They exchanged silent glances.
“Strange.”
Se-ah spoke first.
“Why suspect only the union? More staff aren’t members. Are the president’s faction trustworthy?”
Ho-cheol adjusted his posture, slightly surprised.
Without knowing his tie to the president, it was a valid question.
But her question wasn’t what surprised him.
“He’s S-grade. Would he do that?”
“Don’t be naive. He’s a great hero, no question, but his character or achievements don’t extend to his staff.”
As expected.
Ho-cheol was caught off-guard.
He’d assumed the chair and president were at odds.
Yet she used “-nim” respectfully, showing admiration.
Not just simple rivalry.
Worth checking out.
After a brief silence, his meal voucher number lit up on the wall display.
He stood.
“Be right back.”
Se-ah stared at his back, trying to read him, but he was inscrutable.
When he jabbed at the union’s flaws, she thought he was fishing for info or gain, but no such intent showed.
If info was his goal, his attitude was too brazen, only making her defensive.
No organization was perfectly clean.
Even groups not chasing private interests couldn’t control every member’s actions, let alone a union like hers.
They ignored minor issues, that’s all.
But selling academy info?
Who’d be crazy enough, knowing the consequences?
Last year, a professor set to teach this class was fired for leaking exam questions to a private hero agency.
That was just a hero’s request.
Leaking to villains?
Your head would literally roll.
If, as Ho-cheol claimed, someone in the union was leaking info.
Crunch—
Her cup crumpled.
It could only mean they thought her a fool.
If caught, prison would be a mercy.
Ho-cheol returned with his food, casually wielding a knife and fork.
“I wanted to try this. Too pricey usually. Bon appétit.”
He didn’t mention the spy again, focusing on his meal.
He’d achieved his goal.
Getting a confession was ideal but impossible—he hadn’t expected one.
With his watch’s surveillance active, his cards were limited.
Digging for info required revealing his sources, which he couldn’t.
Bluffing was all he had.
His mention of a spy was to stir trouble and sow doubt.
A tiny seed of suspicion, making her wonder if it was happening, was a resounding success.
If anyone acted suspiciously, that doubt would snowball.
Even if she trusted her members now, relationships were fragile as tissue.
In two meetings and a few minutes, her attachment to the union was clear.
No need for him to hunt the spy—she’d do it herself.
Even if connected, it didn’t matter.
His accusation would curb blatant moves for now.
Se-ah, clutching her bear, was already mentally listing suspects.
Her round chin pressed into the bear’s head.
She glanced at Ho-cheol, slicing his katsu.
Immense personal strength, sharp mind.
Brazen enough to call out union corruption to her face, with ample action to back it.
He could be useful.
Looking up, she said,
“I don’t get it. But if you’re digging, start with augmentation.”
“Augmentation?”
“Manipulation professors are tight-knit. We know what each other’s up to. Leaking info without us noticing? Tough. Augmentation professors don’t meddle with each other—easier to pull something.”
He nodded.
She’s aware too.
“Useful info.”
He paused, reaching into his pocket.
“No reward for info, but…”
Her face twisted at the sight of the candy wrapper, the taste of pain flooding back.
“How about candy?”
Unable to hold back, she threw her bear at him.
* * *
Sunday lunch.
Ho-cheol sat at his desk, twirling a pen.
Union, organization—whatever.
Tomorrow’s fourth lecture came first.
He’d hoped to use the education hall for practical training, but external heroes testing trait output blocked access.
He was dumbfounded but couldn’t argue—prior usage trumped his.
Another pointless theory lecture wasn’t appealing.
As he pondered.
Creak—
The door opened with a password beep.
No knock, like it was her house.
Whose place was this?
“Here, huh?”
It was lunchtime.
Maybe she brought food.
He stood to greet So-hee.
But something was off.
At the entrance, she wore an immaculate suit, unlike her usual casual look.
Her expression was rigid.
Puzzled, he asked.
“What’s up? Got a wedding invite?”
“Well… seems like big trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“The association called me in.”
“Weekend work? That’s rough.”
No wonder she looked grim.
But that wasn’t his problem.
“Not just me.”
She pointed at him.
“You too.”
“Why me?”
“Dunno… but it’s not the director. A different faction’s exec.”
“Different faction?”
She added.
“The director’s rivals.”
“Sounds bad.”
He clicked his tongue.
Rivals to the director, who’d opposed his release, meant they were likely up to something.
“Any veto power?”
“Nope.”
More hassles would follow.
Public duties allowed off-campus trips, meaning the association could summon him freely.
First time, he’d go quietly, but he’d need to ensure it didn’t happen again.
He opened his closet.
“Alright, let’s go.”
“No, change after I leave!”
* * *
In the car to the association, Ho-cheol woke after an hour’s nap.
As he opened his eyes, So-hee said.
“Still an hour to go.”
He didn’t respond, reaching out to place his hand over hers on the wheel.
“Eh?”
Before her shock at the sudden contact could settle, the situation escalated.
He yanked her hand, jerking the wheel sharply.
Screech—!
“Argh!”
She slammed the brakes, but the speeding car spun wildly, circling several times.
Black skid marks streaked the road.
Thud—!
Hitting her head on the wheel, So-hee snapped up, yelling,
“Are you insane?!”
But he didn’t look at her, staring ahead.
Seconds later.
Rumble—!
House-sized boulders rolled from the nearby mountain, covering the road.
She calculated—speed, distance, boulder size.
If he hadn’t turned the wheel.
Sweat beaded on her hand.
Ho-cheol might’ve survived, but she’d be flattened.
She muttered awkwardly.
“…How’d you know?”
No, more importantly.
“Thanks.”
She rubbed her chest, relieved.
Could “saved my life” fit better?
He ignored her thanks, eyeing the boulders.
Leaning an elbow on the window, he muttered dryly,
“Guess I’m Mr. Popular.”
“Huh?”
He didn’t answer.
The response would come from those descending the mountain.