Chapter 122: Department Head

Shwoooosh—

Having escaped via his trait, Hocheol surveyed his surroundings.

He was in a corner of the gate, far from the tower.

Nearby, an orange orb about the size of a human head lay shattered in pieces.

That must’ve been the core.

Suppressing the nausea from the teleportation, Hocheol spoke to the association hero beside him.

“Thanks to you, I made it out. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Teleportation traits inside a gate carried significant risk for the user just by activating.

Only after fully analyzing or destroying the core could such traits be used safely.

The same applied to the telepathic communication sent to Hocheol.

Sure, replying to it had been tough and cost him a hit, but escaping that situation was well worth the price.

In the distance, the tower collapsed as the inversion field vanished.

The sight of the multi-story tower crashing to the ground was spectacular from afar.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a pleasant view for Eclipse, who was right beneath it, but that wasn’t Hocheol’s concern.

It wasn’t just a massive structure.

Thanks to technology that imbued objects with traits, the building was far sturdier and heavier than its materials suggested.

Even Eclipse, with his near-omnipotent trait, lacked high-speed movement, so he’d have to take the full brunt of it.

Kugugugugung—!

Debris rained down like a storm, shaking the entire landscape.

Dust clouds rose, engulfing the tower.

A few seconds passed.

Kwang—!

A pillar of light shot up from the rubble.

The impact, stronger than the tower’s collapse, hit where they stood.

The ground quaked as if an earthquake had struck, and visible cracks appeared in the sky.

The space itself couldn’t withstand the release of power.

Some team members, overwhelmed by the sheer force, collapsed on the spot.

It meant Eclipse had burned through his stored sun and activated 「Ra」.

To react that intensely against a non-enemy.

“He must be really pissed.”

The team and Se-ah, who’d heard Hocheol was fighting a villain, were stunned by the light pillar.

That technique—it was one anyone could recognize with a quick internet search or documentary.

“That’s Eclipse!” Se-ah shouted.

Hocheol nodded casually, chiming in.

“Yeah. He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

In that state, talking wouldn’t work.

If caught, Hocheol might survive, but the rest would be slaughtered.

“Let’s get out of here.”

For once, he and the hunter agreed.

Escaping the gate was easy.

With fixed coordinates, repeated teleports did the trick.

The teleporting association hero would be bedridden for days, but it was better than dying.

They returned to the second gate, collapsing the already unstable passage.

A new one would form soon, but it cut off any chance of a raging Eclipse following them.

Back at headquarters, the joy of the mission’s success was overshadowed by shock at Eclipse’s appearance.

Thanks to closing the passages on their way back, the odds of Eclipse crossing were slim, but they evacuated immediately to prepare for the worst.

* * *

With a bandage on the side pierced by Eclipse yesterday, Hocheol frowned while grading practice tests.

“Why are recent precedents so complicated?”

His head throbbed.

It was supposed to be a break, but his free time had dwindled.

“Hiss.”

He spun the pen in his hand, exhaling through his lips.

All because of those damn certification exams.

The first written exam was just two weeks away.

Two days after that, another written exam.

Then practicals right after.

The practicals weren’t a big worry—the high written cutoffs were the issue.

If he could focus solely on studying for two weeks, maybe it’d be fine.

But he had no such luxury.

The investigation results would come in soon, requiring a trip to the Intelligence Department.

Plus, other tasks were piling up.

He’d finished about half of today’s mistake notebook when his phone, tossed on the bed, buzzed.

Leaning back in his chair, he stretched to grab it and leaned back on the desk.

The message was absurdly blunt.

[Meet]

Too simple, almost rude.

No location, time, or explanation.

It was from an unsaved number, impossible to place.

But it felt vaguely familiar.

After a moment, he searched the faculty site and found the sender.

“Well, damn.”

An unexpected figure.

‘Enhancement Department Head’

The person in charge of Hocheol’s department, but someone he had no connection with.

Despite a semester as a professor at Clington, they’d never spoken or even met.

When he needed approval or help, he went straight to the dean.

Surely the department head wasn’t pissed about being bypassed and blowing up now?

Hocheol had no interest in being chummy, but bad blood would be inconvenient for him.

“Still, this is a bit much.”

How could someone send such a curt message?

As he marveled, another buzz came.

The sender, perhaps realizing their mistake, included a time and place.

“Enhancement Department Faculty Gym.”

He knew it existed but had never visited, given his ambiguous standing compared to other professors.

The meeting was in two hours.

Since it was on campus, he had time to prepare.

Instead of getting ready, Hocheol called the dean.

Who was this person, and why, after no contact all semester, were they suddenly demanding a meeting?

He needed some context.

After a brief ring, the dean’s voice came through.

[What’s up?]

Hocheol explained briefly.

[Oh, I see. They called you. Finally, huh?]

“Wait.”

Hocheol questioned, as if doubting his ears.

“Why ‘they’? You’re the dean, above the department head.”

Se-ah, the Manipulation Department Head, was on the same level.

And given the dean’s relationship with her, the hierarchy was clear.

[I’m the dean, sure, but their tenure as an educator and age make them hard to dismiss.]

“Oh, a lifer.”

Among Clington’s professors, they had the longest career.

Their seniority alone was imposing, and they were older than the dean, so his caution made sense.

A sudden question crossed Hocheol’s mind.

“No retirement age here?”

[For Awakened? Nah.]

“Yeah, fair enough.”

Hocheol tapped the desk lightly with his middle and index fingers.

“No wonder the Enhancement Department stays out of the union or the dean’s faction. Not just neutral—too relaxed?”

[Exactly. To them, it’s all fleeting trends. Even if not, their personality wouldn’t care.]

“What kind of personality?”

[Improving students’ physical strength and yours. That’s it.]

A true educator, even more than the dean or Se-ah.

“Admirable mindset. So why call me?”

Hocheol nodded but got to the point.

[If I had to guess, they’re likely testing you.]

Hocheol frowned, his impression of the department head plummeting.

“…A professor testing another professor? Is that even allowed?”

[It’s not a big deal. But the results heavily impact promotions and such.]

Before the union, the dean held absolute power over faculty appointments and promotions.

But the Enhancement Department was an exception.

The department head rarely spoke up, but when they did, their influence rivaled the dean’s.

[Their approval isn’t strictly necessary for promotion, but their veto makes it impossible.]

Hocheol’s recent deputy head role was only possible because the department head was neither approved nor opposed.

Propping his chin, Hocheol asked irritably.

“So they could kick me out of the deputy head?”

He had no interest in high positions.

If they’d rejected him from the start, he’d have shrugged it off.

But not now.

“No way I’m letting that happen. I need those training halls next semester.”

His deputy head position came with no responsibilities, only perks.

Perks like near-free access to training halls, which required a month’s reservation otherwise—a sweet deal for Hocheol, who prioritized student growth.

He wasn’t letting it go.

[I don’t think it’ll come to that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t. You should contact Professor Seong Se-ah too.]

Neither the dean nor Se-ah wanted Hocheol ousted.

The union and dean’s faction were near enemies, but the dean and Se-ah got along fine.

Their training hall disputes had just escalated into organizational conflict.

Lately, they’d started acknowledging each other’s methods, making Hocheol’s deputy role a useful buffer.

“Still doesn’t feel great.”

[You’ve been through a lot, so I get it. But it’s a tradition in the Enhancement Department. Don’t take it too personally. Remember that time at the union’s night event when you clashed with an associate professor?]

Hocheol rubbed his temple and cheek with his thumb and middle finger.

Union night?

Associate professor?

The memory was fuzzy.

Something yellowish, maybe.

Nothing clear.

The dean, deeming it unimportant, moved on.

[That guy didn’t know, but he was set to take half your classes as a full professor. He failed that test, so it fell through.]

“Better pass, then. Anything else? Test details?”

[It varies. One piece of advice—]

The dean paused, then said.

[Go on an empty stomach.]

* * *

Ten minutes before the meeting, Hocheol arrived at the ‘Enhancement Department Faculty Gym.’

A plain five-story building.

He opened the door and stepped inside.

The interior wasn’t much different from a regular gym.

If anything, the equipment and facilities looked older than those in student-accessible gyms.

The moment he stepped inside, he frowned.

His body suddenly felt twice as heavy.

It wasn’t an illusion.

A large sign in bold font hung by the entrance:

[1st Floor: 2x Gravity Constantly Applied]

Hocheol looked up at the ceiling.

Among the lights, an octagonal device spun slowly.

Less advanced than the time-dilation or space-expansion devices in other training halls, but its gravity enhancement was solid.

“Seriously.”

For Enhancement Department professors, this was probably no big deal.

Training in this environment would build real muscle.

His only concern was.

He glanced at the stairs in the left corner.

The meeting was on the fifth floor.

Surely the gravity didn’t increase with each floor?

Feeling an odd foreboding, he climbed the stairs.

Or tried to.

Right before the second-floor stairs, another bold-font warning hung on the wall:

[Entry Prohibited Without At Least 3 Weights]

What were the weights, and where did you get them?

No need to wonder.

Below the warning, a finger-shaped sign pointed right to a ‘Weight Rental Station.’

“What the…”

The next floor likely had stronger gravity, so this was probably a test of minimum capability.

Safety was fine, but wasn’t this method outdated?

Like, 10—no, 20 years behind.

Grumbling, Hocheol opened the door to the weight rental station.

Inside, unaffected by the gravity device, the oppressive weight lifted the moment he entered.

The station was exactly what it sounded like—a room full of weights.

Four-story shelves lined with weights flanked the room.

At the center, a person at a counter, propping their chin, flipped through a book.

Sensing someone, they looked up.

“Come on in… Oh, uh, you!”

Ye-jin’s eyes widened upon seeing Hocheol.

Surprised by the unexpected face, Hocheol quickly regained his composure.

Glancing at her book, he asked.

“Reading dirty books again?”

A pop sound, and her face turned beet red.

“No, I’m not!”

She hurriedly hid the book under the counter.

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