Chapter 123: Department Head (2)

Hocheol looked at Ye-jin with a wry expression.

He’d meant it as a joke, but her frantic attempt to hide the book made it more suspicious.

Still, it was her personal business, so he had no intention of prying into the book’s title.

If it was what he suspected, it’d just make things awkward for both of them.

His gut feelings were oddly accurate, so it was better to let it slide.

Instead, he approached the counter and rested his arms on it.

Leaning forward, he asked.

“So, what are you doing here? It’s break time after the semester.”

“You can’t just laze around during break. I’m working a campus job.”

That much was obvious, but Hocheol had another reason for asking.

“Don’t you need to check on the facilities?”

Knowing how much Ye-jin’s siblings at the facility looked for her, it was a natural question.

Even his next-door neighbor, a clingy kid, pestered him every few hours, which was suffocating enough.

Ye-jin had more than one or two siblings like that.

She just smiled lightly and shrugged.

“Oh, it’s fine. I stop by every weekend.”

With no classes, her schedule was flexible, making now the perfect time to earn extra.

More importantly.

“It’s not just about the money here.”

Rubbing her hands together, she grinned slyly.

“I can sneak in some training during downtime. Super lucky. This place is usually crazy competitive.”

The student gym was practically free with a low monthly fee, but that ‘low’ fee was for regular students.

For Ye-jin, it wasn’t cheap.

A month’s membership equaled 20 lunch vouchers at the student cafeteria—a sum she couldn’t easily part with.

More importantly, student gyms didn’t have gravity devices like this.

For a student like her to access such a perk was a golden opportunity, worth more than money.

“Alright. If you’re happy, that’s what counts. Keep at it. I’ll borrow three weights.”

“Sure, I’ll log it.”

Ye-jin turned to the computer beside her.

She quickly typed, updating the rental log.

“You can grab whatever you like from the first or second shelves.”

Hocheol glanced at the shelves. Hundreds of weights, all identical.

“What’s with the third and fourth shelves?”

“Third shelf is twice as heavy as regular weights, fourth is three times.”

For Hocheol, three regular weights were enough, so he didn’t need those.

Adjustable in size, he strapped them to his legs and abdomen without much thought.

Despite their worn appearance, they were high-quality, not hindering his movement at all.

Kuuk— About 2.5 times his body weight.

If the upper floors had three times gravity, it was a fitting test.

But a sudden question struck him.

He turned back to Ye-jin.

“How many weights for the fifth floor?”

“Seven for the fifth floor.”

“Does it increase by one per floor?”

“No. Three up to the fourth floor, but seven for the fifth.”

Hocheol clicked his tongue.

“I’ll return these two and get seven weights.”

“You’re going to the fifth floor?”

“Yeah.”

He removed the weights from his arms and swapped them for two triple-weight ones, securing

them to his arms.

The weight was noticeably heavier than three.

Some trait must’ve been applied, as the weight wasn’t just on his arms and abdomen but distributed evenly across his body.

“These are heavy.”

He said it, but Ye-jin, watching him move easily, let out a small gasp.

“Most people stand still to adjust when they put on seven weights.”

Three or four, maybe, but seven?

In her time working the counter, she’d seen dozens of professors and staff.

Only a rare few—gym regulars—moved as effortlessly as Hocheol.

He jumped lightly in place and replied.

“A bit heavy, but not unbearable. I’ll head up. Keep at it.”

“Okay! Train hard, Professor!”

Hocheol went straight to the second floor.

The weights were to test if someone could train properly on that floor.

Each floor had a weight storage area at the stair’s end, but since Hocheol was heading higher, he didn’t bother removing them.

Unlike the empty first floor, the second had several staff members training diligently.

It was called a faculty gym, but staff used it discreetly too.

The first floor’s equipment was in rough shape, but the second had expensive, high-quality stuff.

Some staff and professors he’d crossed paths with over the semester were there.

Not close enough for casual chats, he exchanged nods and headed to the third floor.

The third floor had far fewer people, mostly professors, each focused on their workouts.

The fourth floor had just a couple, completely immersed in their routines.

Finally, the fifth floor.

Hocheol’s body staggered.

The second floor had 2.3x gravity, the third 2.6x, the fourth 2.9x.

He’d expected 3.3x, maybe 3.5x at most for the fifth.

But four times gravity?

With the weights, even Hocheol found it taxing.

He scanned the area.

The vast gym was used by only one person.

An old man stood in the center.

Hocheol approached.

His wrinkled face and white hair spoke of his age.

The dean was old, but this man was older—someone you’d believe could pass away tomorrow, or even now, without surprise.

But that was only his face.

Below his jaw, it was anything but an old man’s body.

His thick, sturdy neck supported by robust traps looked like a giant tree atop a mountain range.

His shoulders led to arms thicker than Hocheol’s thighs, muscles bulging under his T-shirt.

Chest, back, abs—nothing was less than extraordinary.

His body was a work of art, though in a fantasy genre.

A sculptor crafting this would be pelted with tomatoes for fraud.

But his upper body, as unreal as it was, seemed almost normal compared to below the waist.

“…What the.”

His legs weren’t legs—they were logs.

That was the only way to describe them.

The old man, likely the Enhancement Department Head, paid Hocheol no mind, slowly lifting a barbell.

A textbook deadlift.

He repeated the lift and lower several times.

Finishing a set, he finally turned to Hocheol.

His small, wrinkled eyes scanned him up and down.

His gaze lingered on Hocheol’s lower body, observing every detail from ankles to thighs, like a snake eyeing prey.

His lips parted slowly.

“Squat…”

His mouth trembled.

His vocal cords, unlike his muscles, lacked strength, his voice frail.

“You need to squat…”

He pointed to a nearby bar.

“Lift that… and try.”

Instinctively, Hocheol mimicked Sohee’s usual teasing catchphrase.

“Huh?”

* * *

Suddenly training, Hocheol slowly lowered his body.

The department head coached, balancing the barbell behind him.

“Lower… lower… now up…”

Training was a foreign concept to Hocheol.

His skills were honed in real combat, focusing only on essentials, often against his will.

So this systematic, proper, gradual growth felt alien.

Plus—

“Your back… it’s tilting again…”

Having someone meticulously correct his form was a first.

In his villain days, what madman would dare critique his technique?

Even if they did, the sharp-edged Hocheol back then wouldn’t have listened.

He continued as instructed.

After a set, during a break, he wiped sweat from his forehead.

In combat, every part of the body was used, but some were less so.

The department head somehow targeted those, making it tough even for Hocheol.

He hadn’t removed the weights either.

The department head spoke as Hocheol drank water.

“Your body… isn’t at full strength.”

Hocheol stared at his open palm.

Was it?

With traits, pure muscle strength had clear limits.

Only pure enhancement traits, which drew power from muscles, made it meaningful.

Still, a question arose.

“So, maxing out the body’s strength makes you stronger in combat?”

Given his age and lack of familiarity, unlike the dean, Hocheol spoke politely.

The department head nodded.

“No shortcut to strength… but the right path is always ahead.”

“As long as I can get stronger, I’m good.”

Real combat was the best training, but that wasn’t always possible.

If he passed his certifications, this place was worth visiting for workouts.

Having finished training—

“So, what’s the test?”

“What test?”

The department head tilted his head up.

Staring blankly at the ceiling lights, lost in thought, Hocheol felt an indescribable unease.

He’s not dying standing up, is he?

If he keeled over from old age, that’d be awkward.

Thankfully, he snapped back, turning his head.

“Oh, no.”

He waved his hand.

Unlike his sluggish shoulders, his hand whipped up a gust around Hocheol.

The contrast was bizarre.

“No. I just called new professors to train together… I was busy this year, so I called you late.”

“Then failing the test cancels promotions?”

The department head looked puzzled as Hocheol relayed what the dean said.

“That… he was weak, scrawny, nearly dying just climbing here. How could he be a full professor…?”

Hocheol’s brow furrowed in realization.

The so-called test was just the department head’s way of finding workout buddies.

Those who passed didn’t brag, but the failures complained loudly, spreading rumors.

After just a few minutes training together, it was clear he wasn’t the type to clarify misunderstandings or explain in detail.

He’d answer questions honestly, but who had time to ask while training here?

“Keep practicing the squats you learned today… you’ve got talent.”

Hocheol nearly let out a dumbfounded sound.

Talent, of all things?

“If you’re unsure about training, come ask… or join me sometimes… those who make it up here are too busy with their own workouts…”

It sounded like the lament of a lonely old man.

With that body.

But Hocheol didn’t brush it off.

The department head was an expert in training, but Hocheol was better at spotting lies like that.

“So you really just called me to train?”

At his confident question, the department head’s narrowed eyes widened slightly.

A sharp gaze, unfitting his age.

“You got me… fine. Work with me.”

“Any veto power?”

“Of course not… but it’s good for the students.”

If it was good for the students, there was no reason to refuse.

Still, Hocheol stood from the bench.

“I’ll hear it out first.”

* * *

On his way back to the dorm, Hocheol stopped at a nearby café, standing a step back from the counter, eyeing the menu.

But while his eyes were on the board, his mind was elsewhere.

“Seriously.”

The ‘work’ the department head mentioned was, to Hocheol, barely worth calling work.

It was definitely beneficial for students, so he’d agreed, but with his recent time crunch, when it’d happen was unclear.

Besides the student benefits, Hocheol was promised other privileges for the job.

At this rate, he might end up in a third faction.

Too bothersome, so he’d pass.

Snapping back, he looked at the menu again.

Just as he chose and stepped toward the counter—

A voice came from behind.

“A man who once tried to destroy this country with those hands is now browsing a café menu.”

An unfamiliar voice.

A deep, low tone whispered just for Hocheol.

“Pathetic, almost pitiful.”

Hocheol closed his eyes tightly, feeling a faint headache.

What the hell is this now?

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