Interlude: A Clear Autumn Morning
A cloudless, brilliant autumn morning.
It was still only half past nine in the morning. Students had long since arrived at school, and office workers were deep into their workday—
"Hey, that—"
"Shh."
Even the students of Justice Academy—Korea's one and only hero academy—clustered together in their classroom, wide awake as they watched the broadcast.
"Isn't that the factory we were supposed to hit this time?"
"Technically a villain hideout, but yeah, spot on."
As the news wrapped up, the students slumped with sighs, then dove into discussion about the bombshell report.
"Who the hell did it? Not other heroes, right?"
"Gotta be villains."
"But villains attacking each other? They're too busy committing crimes or fighting heroes."
Shocking as it was, these were third-years in the midst of their four-year program—elite among elites, locked in constant battles with villains, earning them the moniker of the golden generation.
Now recognized even by active heroes as full-fledged pros in their own right, it was only natural they'd dissect an incident like this—especially one that wiped out the very villains they'd been tasked to take down.
"Some kind of turf war?"
"What group would go up against the Evil Coalition? Villains just grovel before the strong."
As theories flew, the conversation inevitably shifted to—
"Not those guys again?"
"The villains who kill villains?"
The villain group suspected of pulling it off.
"Repentance, was it?"
Repentance. A group that burst onto the scene a year ago, shrouded in controversy. They never killed civilians, merely neutralized any heroes who came at them, and targeted only villains for death.
"...Repentance."
Repentance. Remorse, penitence, atonement—multiple meanings, all fitting.
"Villains repenting by taking out other villains?"
"Or maybe telling dying villains to atone for their sins."
Any interpretation worked, fueling endless speculation from experts about their true nature.
"Whatever. They're still villains."
To heroes, they could be nothing else—a group that killed people, plain and simple.
For students at hero academy, training to become heroes themselves, Repentance was just another villain outfit.
They don't kill civilians? Who knows—they could be doing it on the down-low. Heroes? Same deal.
They flaunted that slogan, and pundits hyped them as vigilantes reborn. But heroes had died by their hands—corrupt ones in bed with villains or rotten with power, sure, but dead all the same. Or maybe they framed it that way—who could say?
And executing villains without due process, meting out punishment in place of the state? That smacked of a challenge to public authority.
But the students voiced suspicions and gripes over the first two points—never the last.
"Wonder how Hyunwoo's doing."
"...Who knows."
They knew all too well how their classmate had despaired, and the fallout from it. And—
"Man... not a single call."
His childhood friend was right there in the class—still searching for him, breaking down in tears just recently when no leads surfaced. They wouldn't dare say it aloud.
"What's the point of a call? He's branded a villain now."
"True, but..."
"...Hope he just stays hidden. Am I a failed hero for wanting that?"
"Nah."
Even without her, the word "sin" stuck in their craws—for injuring villains, hurting students, killing villains. To those who still saw Hyunwoo as a friend, it was a sore spot.
Others might not get it, but they did. How hard he'd worked amid jealousy and insults, pushing through silently. His bright smile.
And why it all went down—they knew that too.
Of course, the one who knew best was Choi Jihyun, head bowed in gloom.
Classmates watched her with concern; class president and friend Sung Han-kyul gazed pityingly before approaching.
"Jihyun. You okay?"
"Hanging in there."
She nodded at Han-kyul with a faint smile, but—
"...Haaah."
—turned to the window and let out a deep sigh.
Childhood friends since age five. Back when her powers were unknown, he'd thrashed the kids bullying her, treated family-less her like true kin—family to her.
Even after her powers awakened, they'd trained together laughing, encouraged each other through tough times, taught her studies when she struggled, puzzled over his stagnant abilities with comfort and head-scratching solidarity. True friend, and—
"...Hyunwoo."
She'd sworn to protect him as he'd protected her—but failed.
"Where the hell are you...?"
Sighing at the thought, she stared blankly out the window, teeth gritted.
The sky beyond gleamed spotless and clear—a stark contrast to the storm clouds in her heart, this autumn morning.
"...Nice weather."
A boy muttered in his room, clutching a pen as he scribbled furiously in a notebook.
Everything that came to mind, nonstop. It'd all vanish by the world's rules anyway—but he kept at it. Nothing else to do. Though—
"Hurt again? Quit getting banged up!"
"Shut it, you crazy bitch! Fought villains—of course I got hurt!"
"Who's the crazy bitch calling me that? No healing for you?"
"Sorry! Just heal me already!"
"Pick one—cocky or sorry!"
—those two were so damn loud. If only they'd shut up.
The chaotic vibe screamed anything but villain lair. Guardian—Lee Hyunwoo—scowled at the door where the girls bickered.
He hated noise. Tolerated it only because they weren't mere extras—bosses or allies from game chapters.
"Villain Ash, Jewel. Even Priest, once a hero's ally, now on my side."
Eyes fixed on the door, pen flew on.
"Heroes... protagonist Sung Han-kyul, Choi Jihyun, and others alive and growing. I've twisted up to chapter five."
What he'd jotted: past events, current state. And—
"Chapter five's done. Next—chapter six."
Future happenings and plans.
Finishing with a period, he leaned back.
"Hm... Justice Academy."
Scanning his notes, he dragged a finger slowly down the page—
"Been a while."
—and rose. The touched section sliced clean off, fluttering to the floor.
"Wonder how much they've grown. Our protagonist crew—"
Notebook left open, he headed for the door, flung it wide at the still-yelling girls, and bellowed—
"Quiet down, you brats—!"
"Boss!"
"God! Do something about this idiot! Comes back injured every damn day—"
"Don't call me that!"
—slamming it shut behind his roar.
The racket continued, footsteps fading.
Time passed. Silence filled the empty room—but from the door's slam, the notebook's ink began evaporating, letters fading one by one.
Until only the first line on the first page remained.
As even that dissolved, it read: Evil Coalition Justice Academy Raid Operation.