I Want to Fuck Heroes (5): What Clothes Should I Wear?
I had no clue what to wear. Would white clothes look too bright and cheerful? Or could I just go with my usual drab black outfit and no one would bat an eye? I didn't even consider other colors. Villains stuck to achromatic tones, after all. My wardrobe as a former villain was stuffed with slightly off-white stuff and a ton of the same old black clothes. Sure, it was kinda shitty philosophy if you thought about it. But from experience, most were like that.
A few days before I died, that bitch Yojora—who suggested drinking at my place—had flashy style, but color-wise, it was similar enough. Same with the other villains whose names I couldn't even remember anymore. At best, blue jeans were the height of fashion.
"No watch... huh."
Uncharacteristically cozy, but it was still mid-February winter. Instead of healer-appropriate white clothes, I threw on a long puffer jacket with white fur trim, grabbed my wet umbrella, and headed out.
Alright. Time for the interview.
There's that saying: pull out the iron horns while it's hot. The original meaning's so ancient it wouldn't land anyway—it's basically, when opportunity knocks, don't hesitate, just charge ahead. Principal Seok Jaehwa loved that phrase. Simple reason. He's a simple guy.
"Heh heh hum~."
Overthinking, nitpicking, complex calculations—they didn't suit his style. Villain shows up? Smash 'em with a full-power fist. Find a villain hideout? Knee it to pieces with a thud. No negotiating with villains. Food dilemma? Jajangmyeon every time. Group hanging out with nothing to do? Disband. Scratching his belly at home watching TV, support request comes in? Charges out without a second thought. Someone he missed calls? "Let's meet tomorrow" becomes "Meet now." That was former Korea No.5 hero Seok Jaehwa's life.
So the current hero training academy principal Seok Jaehwa...
"Nice to meet you, Seo Woojin."
"Yes."
...was thrilled to finally meet Seo Woojin like this. Enough to personally brew instant mix coffee with a big grin.
Meanwhile, Woojin glanced at the capsule coffee machine in the distance, then at the paper cup in front of him. A question popped up, but he didn't ask. He preferred mix anyway. Guess they splurge on fancy interiors here too.
"I just called, and you're already here."
"House is close."
"Close to home... good."
Actually, that kind of question in a part-time interview means "Can you show up anytime on short notice?" Especially at cafes or convenience stores where no-shows without notice are common.
But Principal Seok Jaehwa was simple. A healing-type transcendent. He was just happy to add Seo Woojin to his bouquet. More like the wire tying it sturdy, or the non-woven fabric inside, or the mink paper wrapping outside.
"Looks like it took a bit over 30 minutes."
"Including prep time... yeah, about that."
"Good. Great. No commute issues..."
Even if there were, it wouldn't matter. Buy a house, problem solved.
"Qualifications for health teacher, headcount, all that—I covered it on the phone, right? No need to rehash."
"Yes. It's all up to you, Principal."
Miren Academy. Surprisingly, not national or public—it's private.
"Kinda, but you're too blunt."
"Logically, there's no reason not to hire me as health teacher."
"True, but..."
A healing-type transcendent (Position: Health Teacher)—like sending a national hero against some punk. Woojin quietly fiddled with his fingertips.
Health teacher was a regrettably binding spot for a healing-type transcendent, but whatever. Position: Health teacher at a hero training academy. Where else could you meet this many injured heroes?
Of course, more dramatic, intense hero encounters would've been ideal. But he'd given up on that long ago. Getting sliced by a man-sized scythe, coughing blood till death? Too far from his tastes. Better this relatively safe route.
...Come to think of it, wasn't that woman from Miren too?
Woojin, recalling past intel on Reaper's origins, stroked the rim of his paper cup. Then the principal's face across from him caught his eye. Something to say, probably.
"That part."
"Pardon?"
"I wanted to discuss that with you, Woojin."
"...Salary negotiation?"
"No. The 'teacher' in health teacher."
Principal Seok Jaehwa folded the question papers he'd brought. Formalities, but unnecessary now. Why? 'Cause I'm the principal.
"Why teacher, not student?"
"Application period's over."
Simple reason. He nodded easily, no deep thought needed.
"Then here's my proposal."
"Yes."
"How about enrolling as a student instead of health teacher? I can make it happen."
"Not appealing. Nothing in it for me."
True. As health teacher, he'd get decent pay. As student, income gone, plus tuition. No special student perks either. Hero academies teach aspiring heroes to kill villains, one way or another. A healing-type like him had no way to kill villains.
In other words, nothing to learn. Well, sexual ways to kill, but... lame joke, mouth shut.
"Might sound rude, Woojin."
"Go ahead. My mental game's solid."
"...I hear you really like heroes."
"......"
Not rude at all. Woojin sipped his coffee, then nodded. At 10, he spent 20 minutes gushing about a hot hero in an interview. Thought it got cut, but rumors spread somehow.
...Kinda embarrassing.
"So instead of holing up in the infirmary as health teacher, wouldn't it be better to bond with fellow transcendent students? They're aspiring heroes too."
"Not wrong."
Not wrong. But.
"Dunno why you're going so far out of your way for me."
Suspicious. Was that really why he wanted him as student? Woojin crossed his arms, eyeing the principal.
Not that he thought the principal had shady motives. At most, "Our academy has a healing-type too!" for PR. But that worked as teacher too. Hell, better as teacher. "All pains cured here!"—good enough.
That was Woojin's take.
"...Well."
"Yes."
"You're 20, right?"
"Yes."
"Prime youth to burn hot—'teacher' at that age feels early, no?"
"......"
But the principal was simple. Just hot-blooded and straightforward. Still more hero than principal.
Seo Woojin answered quietly.
"...I'm fine."
Of course, no mention of being 30 inside.
*****
Chit-chat wrapped up. Duties as health teacher. Commute flexibility (surprisingly okay). Academy rules. Salary negotiation. Crisp white health teacher gown that bugged him somehow, etc.
Finishing loose ends, red light flickered beyond the curtain.
"...On paper, 'teacher.' But to students, 'health committee member.' Calling same-age or younger teacher 'health sir' would feel off."
"Doesn't matter."
"Kids these days are sensitive about that."
"Yeah."
Ultimately, minus salary, same as enrolling as student? Would've nodded if pitched that way.
Crushed the empty cup, tossed it, checked empty notifications on phone, stood.
"I'll head out then. Just confirming—start tomorrow?"
"Yes. Some 2nd- and 3rd-years are still here."
"Like high school makeup classes on break."
"Bit different. Top students on internships; leftovers are the ones no agencies want."
"Ah."
So that woman from earlier was a leftover. ...Fits—can't control her power, hurts herself. Top 1% dud, given Miren's rep.
Bade principal farewell, stretched stiff body, headed to 1st floor.
Hmm. Infirmary in corner of main building 1F. Better scout for smooth start tomorrow. Check door and walls too.
Main building, no students; a few hero-like teachers passed. Cow-bodied guy, magic-type? with 7 rings on left hand, bald gym teacher from an 19+ eroge. All dudes, no intros needed—ignored, to corner.
Arrived at...
"......"
...a lone door in empty space. Principal said 1F corner—right spot. No pictograms anyone'd recognize as infirmary. No green cross? No sign? Privacy good—no window on door. Like it. Handle felt premium. +1 point.
...But location and vibe... Former storage turned infirmary tomorrow? Soundproofing suspect.
No high hopes, opened door. Heavy feel—good. Slides silent despite floor drag; fur seal or something. +3 points.
Inside: not storage, standard infirmary. ~15 pyeong, bigger than high school ones. Pristine, untouched. Why? Frequent patients keep it clean? Maybe.
What to do. Not great at tidying.
Sniffed fresh deodorizer, entered, pulled wide-open curtain halfway. Eyes comfy now. L-shaped desk ahead. White sheets over several beds.
Desk standard. Beds key. No big hopes for infirmary beds, but soft enough for two adults? Fine. Test lie-down?
Approaching bed thoughtlessly...
"...?"
Found worn canvas sneakers by sheet-covered bed. Mud-splashed from rain, small—tiny feet.
"......"
Why here? Stared, slowly pulled sheet aside.
Inside: guest already there. Dead asleep, oblivious.
White mid-length bob to eyebrow and shoulder—suited her. Teased a villain with that hair once; called it hobo-tier. Small face makes it work. Perky tits heaving in white knit with breaths, taut stockings straining smooth thighs, but eyes snagged on black wired earphones to exposed ear.
Wireless era, yet wired—audio quality nut? Super worn though.
...Anyway.
"......"
What to say. Kinda... familiar face.
Tilted head, examined closer.
"...Ah."
Got it. Codename: Witch. Crushed societal roaches into beautiful ice shards, no traces. Smiled never. Private life shrouded. Korea No.8 in 10 years, Lee Jiyoon—10 years younger, defenseless before me. Bit shabbier than memory.