The field training had concluded, and the children had returned to the Academy.
During that time, I had a few matters to deal with.
First was the issue concerning Gos Hawk.
I filed a complaint with the Organization against that insane Hero, documenting his reckless behavior.
The recordings from the bodycam I’d carried during field supervision served as evidence.
Bodycams are mandatory for Heroes; some suits even have them integrated with internal SD cards or directly linked to servers.
When Hero activities inadvertently cause civilian damage, bodycam footage becomes crucial in determining accountability.
There are cases where a Hero became bankrupt due to compensation after obliterating a building without properly recording the situation with their bodycam.
Additionally, bodycams are used for analyzing Villain tactics and determining sentencing during trials.
In any case, I reported Gos Hawk, and the Organization is set to investigate the matter.
There is no room for leniency when it comes to leaving Academy students alone to fight Villains.
On top of that, I also submitted a claim for Song Do-yoon’s medical expenses.
Though it wasn’t a significant amount, the intent behind it was more important than the sum.
There were a few complications, however.
The request needed to be submitted under the Academy’s name, which required the principal’s approval.
So I visited the principal’s office, showed them the bodycam footage, and managed to secure their approval with some persuasion.
Fortunately, the principal already had a poor opinion of Gos Hawk, making my argument easier.
Through this, Gos Hawk has likely developed a strong grudge against me.
But it matters little. Even if Gos Hawk wanted to, he couldn’t do anything to me, especially considering my position as an Academy professor.
Above all, he ought to have realized something crucial during our confrontation: the Organization’s ranking system doesn’t decide everything.
The Organization’s rank considers public popularity, performance, and various other complex factors, unlike Sikrito’s ranking which focuses solely on combat ability and skill application.
Take Legalmight, for instance. After being rated C-class by Sikrito, they rapidly ascended to A-class upon leaving and are even being discussed as a potential S-class candidate.
In any case, with that matter settled, the field training came to an end.
The children returned safely, having gained much experience thanks to Legalmight’s diligent guidance.
I should treat Legalmight to a meal sometime.
After compiling and submitting the practical training reports to the professorial department, I took the children on an outing to Graford City.
They had worked hard for a week, so I thought we could enjoy a meal together.
This time, it wasn’t going to be at a skewered pork restaurant, so we went to a pork belly restaurant nearby instead.
Yu Hye-won had never properly tasted pork belly before, and Han Min-ha was practically salivating at the mention of it.
As for Song Do-yoon, it likely wouldn’t matter what we ate.
During the meal, Han Min-ha and Yu Hye-won engaged in endless chatter.
The conversations mostly centered on the Villains they’d defeated with Legalmight, with Han Min-ha enthusiastically recounting the tales and Yu Hye-won occasionally interjecting to tone down the exaggerations.
Song Do-yoon, however, ate quietly, occasionally glancing at me.
Perhaps it was due to disregarding my advice and visiting Gos Hawk’s office, or going after a Villain alone despite my warnings.
Still, I had no intention of reprimanding Song Do-yoon further.
Though I scolded them a bit more harshly on-site, how many trainees could refuse an A-Ranked Hero’s command?
Song Do-yoon isn’t at fault — it’s entirely the madness of that Hero.
After finishing twelve servings of pork belly, we left the restaurant.
Hero aspirants have immense exercise volumes, so their basal metabolic rate is high, leading them to consume far more than their peers.
The portion seemed small because Song Do-yoon didn’t eat much, but the actual distribution showed Han Min-ha devouring nearly five servings alone, despite the average being three per person.
At a café afterward, Han Min-ha ordered several desserts, including slice cakes and éclairs.
“Wow, you really eat a lot, huh.”
Yu Hye-won stuck out her tongue in amazement.
“Well, I guess I have to eat like a pig to maintain this.”
“Ugh! Please stop…”
Han Min-ha flinched at the finger pointed at her chest and anxiously glanced at me.
I pretended not to notice, turning my gaze to the window.
Oddly, despite Yu Hye-won making fun of Han Min-ha, Song Do-yoon showed no reaction.
While Song Do-yoon clearly targeted Han Min-ha, it was possible something else happened at Legalmight’s office.
Girls’ relationships are always complicated and exhausting.
***
With the field training completed, the second semester was gradually drawing to a close.
The midterm evaluation for this semester was replaced by the field training, and the final would be assessed through a “team competency evaluation.”
Education standards were changing with the current situations, and evaluations followed suit.
The team competency evaluation consisted of mock cooperative combat exercises conducted by each team with scores given accordingly.
Unlike the old ways where individuals could succeed on their own, a single mistake by anyone jeopardized the entire team.
But that’s what cooperative combat is about.
As the evaluation approached, the Academy atmosphere grew restless, with occasional squabbles breaking out during practice.
Given it was the first semester of the second year, the students’ aura control abilities had significantly improved, so disputes rarely resolved peacefully.
What might have been fistfights—or at worst, chair-smashing—in a regular high school could now become something much more explosive here at the Hero Development Academy, and especially at Graford Academy—the self-proclaimed best.
As a thunderous roar erupted somewhere, shaking the ground, Han Min-ha startled and clung to my waist.
“Huh! Professor, it’s an earthquake!”
“It’s not an earthquake but probably a fight nearby.”
Turning around, flashes of light from colliding auras in the training yard confirmed it.
“What a mess. It’s like they’re measuring chestnut sizes for no reason.”
Yu Hye-won crossed her arms, mocking them sharply.
Song Do-yoon wasn’t watching the fight; instead, their eyes were on Han Min-ha clinging to me—or rather, on me.
Song Do-yoon met my gaze briefly before quietly turning away.
Despite the disturbances around us, our team remained unaffected.
Since the practical training, the three had worked well together in collaborative combat.
According to Han Min-ha, Legalmight intentionally took their Sidekicks to observe cooperative combat exercises.
I really should treat Legalmight to a meal.
Thus, we prepared for the evaluation quite smoothly.
Yu Hye-won’s exceptional abilities complemented Han Min-ha’s innate aura control, while Song Do-yoon managed the aerodynamics to enhance their teamwork.
This combination would undoubtedly secure an excellent grade in the team competency evaluation.
***
Developing heroes is not the only task at the Academy.
If it were, there wouldn’t be such a vast campus funded by a colossal budget.
One of the Academy’s key missions is the development and advancement of anti-Villain combat doctrines.
This involves a team of retired Heroes, military, and civilian experts who revise or create new doctrines.
The professors participate by coordinating between these doctrines and the limitations of the educational environment.
Additionally, this year has seen an increase in Villains’ organized activities, heightening the importance and urgency of this task.
For this reason, the Organization continuously provides up-to-date field information, including reconnaissance satellite data, various intelligence assets, and live combat footage from active Heroes.
Today, all the professors were gathered at the Academy’s Combat Doctrine Development Center to review the revisions scheduled for release in the fourth quarter.
While sorting through the provided materials, I noticed something unusual.
“The Observation Report of Villains Using Unknown Characteristics.”
“Unknown characteristics?” I pondered.
A strange feeling lingered as the meeting started.
The meeting progressed through current field conditions, recent Villain trends, doctrines needing revision, and Q&A.
The Villain’s organization and near-destruction of Hero offices were the main points, which we’d all heard repeatedly.
Next, notable recent developments included the “Observation Report of Villains Using Unknown Characteristics.”
It featured a video from a bodycam, filmed from high above, looking down.
“Wha—?!”
I involuntarily rose halfway from my seat as the video played.
“Professor? Is something wrong?”
Professor Jin, sitting beside me, sounded concerned, but I barely heard her.
The intense vibrations from my mental barrier disturbed my focus.
This… Could it be…?
A chilling green mist spreading slowly filled the screen as I watched in horror.