Chapter 30 – Steal the Students (2)
“Syllabus?”
Ruin looked up.
As if waiting for that moment, the assistants set a thick binder down on the desk.
“Yes! You still haven’t submitted your ‘Demon Hunting’ course syllabus…!”
Ruin clicked his tongue as he flipped through the papers in the Combat Studies department office.
And this when he needed to increase the number of Healing students.
‘Come to think of it, the Headmaster said he was looking forward to the syllabus.’
But there was nothing in the world more tedious than making a lesson plan. It was, without question, the thing he hated most.
As a man of the field, Ruin found paperwork excruciating. Even when writing a disciplinary report—
– Roughly: I screwed up.
One line. That was it.
And honestly, he believed one line was more than enough. His superior’s reaction was always the same whenever he turned it in:
“…Hey. Did you really submit this as an official document?”
But Ruin never blinked an eye. All that mattered to him was results. “As long as it gets done, who cares about the paperwork?” was a genuine belief of his.
“Why do I need to write it in a specific format if the job’s done? It’s inefficient.”
Every time he said that, his superior would sigh and leave a pointed remark behind:
“…That’s because you’ve never once failed a mission, you monster…”
And now, here he was, writing again.
Still, it was unavoidable.
He’d submitted the syllabus for the unpopular Healing course—well, Painful Healing—but he’d been assigned Demon Hunting, so he had to write that one himself.
Though there was one upside.
‘At least if I write it myself, I can train them my way. I’ll know each student’s data—and I can even make them dig for my retirement vault.’
He couldn’t just dig in one spot—it would draw suspicion. Best to scatter excavation sites all around.
「You’re seriously going to use the students as labor?」
‘The syllabus will look normal on paper. Don’t worry.’
But from the sidelines, the Combat Studies professors were sneering.
“Does he think writing a syllabus is easy?”
“Especially for Demon Hunting?”
Haven’s syllabi weren’t just course outlines.
They were blueprints for creating heroes.
And none more so than Demon Hunting, which combined practical magic, combat, ethics, and mental resilience into what amounted to a war manual.
As expected, the professors who disliked Ruin chuckled smugly.
“It won’t be so easy. Haven doesn’t train students—it trains heroes.”
Their voices turned sharp with thinly veiled hostility.
“If you’re having trouble, we’d be happy to assist you.”
“Yes, everyone struggles at first.”
“Even veteran professors from other elite institutions say it’s brutal. Some take two weeks—others, a full month—to get it right.”
“But with our help, maybe in three days—”
Ruin cut them off by calmly placing his pen down.
“No need. I’m done.”
…A moment of stunned silence.
“Ah, of course… Wait, what?”
……What?!
………
What?!
……….
What?!
– – –
Faculty Conference Room.
The Headmaster and the professors were stunned by the report delivered by the Combat Studies assistant.
“Really? Professor Wayne already submitted his syllabus?”
The Headmaster’s voice held a note of anticipation.
The professors, however, grumbled in disbelief. Haven’s syllabi were notoriously difficult. With the goal of preparing students to fight beings like the Firefly, even military strategists found it overwhelming.
And this guy finished it on the spot?
“He must think Haven’s syllabus is child’s play.”
“Exactly. The standards are brutal.”
But when they looked at the syllabus the assistants had brought in, their expressions began to change.
…Wait, what is this?
They’d expected some scribbled nonsense—
‘Why is it so well written?’
Not a single blank space. And it was written on the spot?
Raising Heroes at Haven
Target Benchmark: The Firefly
The elegant, bold handwriting laid out content down to the minute, detailing learning objectives, outcomes, and assessments with surgical precision.
It was flawless. Thorough. Honestly, shocking.
Yes, they couldn’t nitpick—because it was too well done—but…
Week 1: Survival Probability Test (Live Combat)
Condition: No weapons; nighttime deployment
Assessment: Death = failure
Note: Estimated survival rate: 10%
Week 2: Interrogation Resistance Training
Condition: All mental defense magic removed
Assessment: Confession = immediate expulsion
Note: Average confession rate: 90%
Week 3: Betrayal & Assassination Response Drills
Condition: Real-time traitor identification/removal sim
Assessment:
Failing to kill traitor = penalty
Killing innocent = penalty
Week 4: Poison Gas Escape Course
Condition: Real-time intoxication + escape/antidote simulation
Gas Used: 70% lethality
Note: Refrained from using 100% lethal gas out of consideration for students
⁞
Week 10: Experiencing One’s Own Death
Condition: Critical injury simulation + self-administered first aid
Note: SOS calls permitted for student safety
“WHAT IS THIS?!”
“Is he trying to kill them?!”
“What the hell does he need students for?!”
“Is this a hero training program or a human weapon factory?!”
Even active-duty soldiers wouldn’t survive this!
– – –
9 PM.
Ruin sat in the staff room assigned to him, his expression grim.
“They rejected it.”
His perfect syllabus had been rejected! How dare these Union bastards reject his lesson plan!
The ginseng supervisor laughed so hard it nearly passed out.
「WELL OBVIOUSLY! Even the Hero wouldn’t go that far!」
‘This is injustice.’
Ruin’s eyes glinted coldly.
They said they wanted to catch the Firefly—so he gave them a training regimen that could actually do it.
“You’re trying to kill the students!”
“A syllabus with a 90% mortality rate from training alone?!”
“Please write it in a gentler way!”
What a joke. You have to go that far if you want to catch the Firefly. How naive were these people?
Ruin was genuinely offended. He’d even toned down the intensity to be considerate.
‘Back in my day, we went through way worse than this.’
Kids these days were so fragile.
Anyway, now that the “military-grade death drills” had been nixed, he was told to instead submit the actual class curriculum. A lesson plan detailing instructional methods, learning goals, and classroom activities.
“That should be easier, right?”
Absolutely not.
Because what they really wanted was a how-to guide for killing demons.
‘In other words, they want me to teach how to kill myself and my comrades.’
And Ruin wasn’t just any demon—he was a Pride intelligence operative. He knew the strengths and weaknesses of every major Pride agent inside and out.
Which meant… it was the subject he was most qualified to teach—and the most dangerous one to teach well.
‘Teach it poorly, I get fired. Teach it too well, Pride sends assassins.’
This was insane.
He considered just following the textbook…
Chapter 1: Shadows
His own file was the very first entry.
‘They even listed all 139 major and 487 minor variants. So thorough.’
「…Wait. You read all that?」
‘Of course. If I’m going to teach, I need to know the materials.’
The ginseng looked at him like he was a lunatic, but to Ruin, it was a matter of course.
‘Well, “Shadows” are considered basic slime-tier monsters, so I guess it makes sense.’
It was convenient that his identity was so underestimated. No one would suspect the Firefly was a “low-grade” monster.
He glanced sideways at the ginseng spirit.
‘Pretty impressive for a ‘low-tier’ monster god, though.’
A very impressive one. There was a reason Ruin had made it to Special Grade.
When he once asked the god about the enormous gap between its powers and the pathetic reputation of its creations, the Shadow God replied mournfully:
「Because none of them are as brilliant as you…」
…Well. His “children” were a little dim. Maybe they didn’t even know how to offer sacrifices.
Anyway, the problem was that Union’s curriculum was too tame. Finding the right balance—between what could be taught and what couldn’t—was a nightmare.
Especially since the Headmaster, a Union officer, was watching closely.
「If your syllabus was any more perfect, the Demon King would throw a fit.」
Write too well, and Pride would kill him.
Write too poorly, and Union would fire him.
What a beautiful dilemma.
– – –
Haven Academy – Demon Hunting Lecture Hall.
“Today, I’ll show you an example of how this course will be conducted moving forward.”
Students murmured with curiosity. The Headmaster and faculty had arrived, too, having heard he would submit a new syllabus.
But instead of documents… he was going to show them?
“Demon Hunting is of particular interest to Pride. This course isn’t just a class—it’s strategy, tactics, and warfare. Anything I put in writing is practically a leak.”
“!”
“Therefore, rather than submit a syllabus, I will demonstrate the course’s objectives directly.”
A demonstration?
But then—
Slide.
Without a word, Ruin drew a knife across his palm.
“…?!”
Blood dripped to the floor. The room fell deathly silent.
From the icy air, Ruin’s voice cut through.
“Now. Who will heal this?”
The students glanced around nervously, unsure what to do.
Ruin’s gaze landed on one student: the red-haired Special Student—Owen.
“You. Owen. You did well on the written exam, but this is your first practical session, right?”
“P-Professor, I… I haven’t properly…!”
“No confidence? I thought you could handle it.”
“…No, sir. I’ll try.”
Owen placed his trembling hand over Ruin’s. But his mana control was unstable—the healing spell sparked, then fizzled out.
Someone snickered nearby.
“Some Special Student. Can’t even close a cut.”
“Tch. That’s what you get for being a commoner.”
Ruin said nothing in response.
Instead, he placed his own hand over Owen’s.
“Don’t be afraid. You already know. Just remember how the body was wounded… and how it heals. Your hand only needs to recall that feeling.”
And—
‘I already removed Calon’s suppression. He should be able to do it now.’
Owen shut his eyes tightly.
Then—light bloomed.
A gentle warmth wrapped around Ruin’s hand. The torn flesh mended slowly but steadily.
Hiss—
“…Done.”
Ruin raised his hand.
Completely healed.
The students held their breath.
“Holy crap… That fast?”
“I’ve never seen recovery like that in Healing class!”
The room buzzed. Owen himself stared at his hand, astonished.
But Ruin offered no praise. He simply looked at Owen and said:
“Next time, don’t be so nervous. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
Only then did Owen’s shoulders relax. His eyes reddened, but he bowed deeply without a word.
Even the Headmaster looked impressed. One of the observing professors spoke quietly.
“…He called out Owen specifically.”
“Is Professor Wayne’s goal to make sure no one gets left behind?”
“So this is what he meant by ‘showing’ us.”
The faculty fell silent. In that moment, Ruin was no longer just an eccentric professor.
He was something more.
From the shadows, the First Prince and the Princess watched in stunned silence.
