So That's What It Was (1)
So that was it. Yoo Hee-won had already decided on her callsign. Golden Viper… It suited the blonde Yoo Hee-won with her wicked smile far too perfectly. After graduation, there would probably be a whole truckload of villains who’d end up with their necks torn off by that viper.
Wait. Golden Viper? It feels slightly different from the callsign she had in the original work. Let me think… What was it again…? Hmm… I can’t remember. It’s been a few months since I possessed this body, so it makes sense that some things are starting to fade. This novel was just one of the countless web novels I’d read, and it wasn’t even particularly memorable—a complete flop. Even if the broad outline remained, the finer details seemed to be slowly erasing themselves from my mind. Besides, that broad outline was an incredibly common trope anyway. A munchkin heroine slicing her way through villains. Simple as that, right?
I set my phone aside and stared at the dark ceiling, lost in thought. I shoved everything related to the original work into a corner and pulled Han Min-ha to the center of my mind. How exactly should I teach that girl?
For now, I had successfully secured Yoo Hee-won. As long as she didn’t flip the board over, there were no external restrictions on me guiding Han Min-ha. Of course, I had no way of knowing when or how Yoo Hee-won might suddenly change, but that was beyond my control. Still, at least up to this point, she seemed quite far from the extreme disgust she had shown in the original story.
If the reason Yoo Hee-won chose me really was my appearance, then keeping her happy and gently coaxing her should be enough. And if her sense of superiority and elitism toward Han Min-ha activated in a positive direction, who knows? She might even step forward to help the girl herself. That was a matter for later, though.
The immediate issue was how I would teach Han Min-ha… From what little I had looked into, the subject where she showed the most progress was, surprisingly, my own Basic Defense class. Calling it progress might be generous; it was simply the subject she was “less terrible” at. Although she had fainted after seeing that horrific video during the basic evaluation, my class still didn’t require as much physical movement as the others. That probably played a part. The other professors all agreed that Han Min-ha was a hopeless klutz when it came to physical activity.
In any case, it seemed best to push forward with Basic Defense, where she was relatively competent. If she could get good grades there, it might build her confidence. The biggest problem I saw with Han Min-ha was that despite possessing extremely pure aura, she couldn’t properly wield it. That too could be overcome by steadily delving into Basic Defense.
The strength of a barrier was proportional to the calmness of one’s mind. And mastering the mind was directly connected to operating one’s aura. The reason defense studies was treated as an unpopular, obsolete subject was simply because most heroes could wield their aura without needing any of that. But since Han Min-ha couldn’t, she needed to focus on it even more.
To solve Han Min-ha’s chronic issue, mental discipline was essential. Mental discipline was the very first step of Basic Defense, and I—the professor of that very subject—was her advisor. Everything aligned so perfectly it was almost ridiculous.
As I was gradually drifting off to sleep, something suddenly occurred to me and I sat up in bed. Come to think of it, I hadn’t taken my evening supplements.
I posted the details for the next meeting in the group chat. The topic was mental discipline. Han Min-ha replied that she understood, but Yoo Hee-won’s response was clearly displeased.
Yoo Hee-won didn’t reply after that. She had clearly read it, though, so she must be quite unhappy. Telling a student who could already manifest barriers at a high level to start meditating again was bound to get that reaction. But my priority wasn’t Yoo Hee-won—it was raising Han Min-ha. Yoo Hee-won would do fine even if left alone, while Han Min-ha would keep sinking if neglected. So, sorry as I was, the focus had to stay on her.
Whether she had noticed the situation or not, Han Min-ha remained silent.
On the appointed day, after all classes had ended, I waited for my two assigned students in an empty classroom. Han Min-ha arrived early and was peeking around the doorway.
“Come in.”
“Ah, yes!”
She must have come straight from the final period of physical training, because she was still wearing her academy training uniform.
“How was your day, Miss Min-ha?”
“It was… okay…”
“Today was the comprehensive combat class, right? What did you learn?”
“Um… we hit sandbags… and did jump rope…”
Sandbags and jump rope. It looked like the lower-ranked students still hadn’t moved past that stage. Techniques using aura were apparently still too much for them.
“What about your other classes?”
“I attended the information acquisition and operations lecture.”
“Was it interesting?”
“Well…”
Han Min-ha hesitated, dragging out her answer. It probably hadn’t been. The exciting parts of information acquisition and operations—things like infiltration, gathering intelligence, and secretly destroying key facilities—came in the latter half of the course. Right now they were likely stuck studying tedious laws and organizational charts of related agencies. Much later they would learn genuinely thrilling things like “assassination and behind-the-scenes strikes,” but that was still far off.
“How are your classmates? Have you all gotten close?”
“Yes. The management assistant has been working really hard to help us.”
The sudden mention of the management assistant made it clear she still hadn’t adjusted. Poor girl.
“It will get better with time. As long as you can endure until then…”
Just then Yoo Hee-won threw the classroom door wide open and strode in.
“Hello, Professor. Hey, seaweed lump.”
“Welcome, Miss Hee-won.”
“Hi, Hee-won…”
Having called Han Min-ha a seaweed lump, Yoo Hee-won once again seemed displeased about something and looked the girl up and down with narrow eyes. Then she turned to me and flashed that familiar wicked smile.
“You shouldn’t tease your friend by calling her seaweed lump, Miss Hee-won.”
“Then what should I call her? Dairy cow water ghost? And we’re not friends, Professor.”
“I see…”
I let out a small sigh and lifted the corners of my mouth. “By the way, I saw the group chat name you set. It was quite impressive.”
Yoo Hee-won grinned. “I thought it was the perfect word to describe both you and her, Professor.”
“Very well. I have no major objections. Then let’s begin today’s meeting.”
We laid out mats and sat facing one another in a circle. Han Min-ha sat in a lotus position with a determined expression. Yoo Hee-won took one look at her face and burst into laughter.
“Hey, Han Min-ha. With that face, you look like you’re heading off to the final battle against Dr. Chief.”
Dr. Chief was a notoriously infamous villain within the novel’s world. He wasn’t a real person but a villain from an extremely famous comic book. In terms of real-world recognition, he was at the level where not knowing him would get you called a spy—every man, woman, and child knew the character.
Because Yoo Hee-won was wearing a short uniform skirt instead of training clothes, sitting in lotus position looked rather inappropriate. When I subtly shifted my gaze elsewhere, she smiled even wider and spread her legs just enough to be dangerous.
“Miss Hee-won. Use this to cover yourself.”
I took off my coat and draped it over her knees.
“I don’t need this.”
“This isn’t for your sake, but for mine and Miss Min-ha’s. It interferes with mental discipline.”
“Hmph.”
I smiled at the huffing Yoo Hee-won, then began the explanation.
“As I mentioned in class, mental discipline is the most basic stage of aura operation. Most people skip it thanks to innate talent, but that isn’t correct. You don’t need to take notes, Miss Min-ha.”
“Y-yes…!”
Han Min-ha, who had been taking out a notebook and pen from her pocket, hurriedly stuffed them back in.
“Anyway… if you don’t deeply examine the aura you possess, you will eventually hit a limit… Miss Hee-won.”
Yoo Hee-won had slipped her hand into the coat pocket and was rummaging around for something. She slowly withdrew it with a sly smile. This girl, really… right from the first meeting…
One hour later.
Han Min-ha’s eyebrows twitched like earthworms as she concentrated with everything she had. It was good that she was trying hard, but mental discipline wasn’t something you achieved by forcing it. On the contrary, you had to let everything go and approach it with a relaxed mind—something Han Min-ha was failing to do. It was a common trait among children who tried their hardest at everything yet couldn’t produce results proportional to their effort.
When I examined her aura, sure enough, that pure, dense energy remained almost completely motionless, stagnant around her body. It was aura that could exert tremendous power once moved, but its very weight made it difficult to shift. On the other hand, Yoo Hee-won…
Oh dear.
Around Yoo Hee-won, tiny firefly-like lights were fluttering about. They were all manifestations of her aura. Not only was she changing its shape, she had even made it visible. As expected, Yoo Hee-won was a natural genius. Moreover, she didn’t even seem to be doing the mental discipline. She was holding her phone with both hands, typing away busily.
To be honest… there was probably nothing left for me to teach that girl.
Yoo Hee-won checked the time, then nudged Han Min-ha with her foot.
“Hey. Stop it.”
“Huh…? Huh?”
Han Min-ha opened her eyes and stared at Yoo Hee-won with a dazed expression.
“I’m hungry. I said stop.”
Yoo Hee-won stood up, folded the coat in half, and handed it to me.
“Buy us food.”
“You can eat at the campus cafeteria.”
“Because of her, it’s already past dinner time and they’ll be out of most side dishes, won’t they?”
Yoo Hee-won jerked her chin toward Han Min-ha.
“And you’re the one who told us to meet at this hour, Professor. Didn’t you think that far ahead? Besides.”
She widened that wicked, cunning smile.
“I know there’s an activity budget specifically for advisors to treat their students to meals. You’re not thinking of pocketing it, are you?”
“Not at all. I’m not poor enough to get blinded by pocket change.”
“Then buy us food. Hey. You’re eating too, right?”
“Eh? Uh… yeah… I should eat…”
Han Min-ha glanced at me nervously before agreeing with Yoo Hee-won. When I checked the clock, it really was past dinner time, and with the activity budget brought up, I had no choice but to nod.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Since the last time I ate out had been spicy grilled intestines, I had been craving a hot, comforting soup to settle my stomach. This worked out nicely.
“Then since it’s cold out, how about some soup—”
“We’re going for bulmakchang. There’s a good place in the city right in front of the academy. You’re okay with that, right? You can eat it, can’t you?”
Before I could even respond, Yoo Hee-won pressed Han Min-ha for an answer.
“Yeah… I like… bulmakchang…”
Damn it… I really hated spicy food… Still… if a student wanted it, a professor couldn’t very well insist on his own preference.
“Very well. Let’s go. We’re eating bulmakchang.”