Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

Chapter 775 Chapter 179.2 - Violence

Chapter 775  Chapter 179.2 - Violence

Astron sat on the infirmary bed, his posture stiff yet deliberate, as the medics worked around him. The sterile scent of antiseptics and the faint hum of mana-infused medical equipment filled the air. His black hair clung to his forehead, damp from sweat and dried blood, but his purple eyes remained sharp, unyielding. 
A medic—a middle-aged woman with steady hands and a calm demeanor—dabbed at the wounds on his face with a glowing cloth. Her brows furrowed slightly as she examined the gashes and bruises. "Your injuries have healed remarkably well," she said, her tone professional yet curious. "Did you take a potion before arriving here?" 
"Yes," Astron replied curtly, his voice low but steady. 
The medic nodded, glancing at the empty vial he had discarded earlier. "I see. That explains part of it. But even so…" She paused, her gaze lingering on the faint scars that remained. "Your regenerative ability is impressive. The instructor mentioned you'd lost a considerable amount of blood, so we expected your injuries to be much worse." 
Astron reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, unassuming pill. He held it between his fingers, the faint shimmer of mana glinting off its surface. 
"Hmm?" The medic tilted her head, intrigued. "What's that?" 
As she grabbed and took a look, she realized what it was. "A defensive enhancement pill," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Once ingested, it temporarily bolsters the body's defenses, preventing severe injuries from worsening. It acts like a potion but doesn't directly heal. It buys time." 
She studied the pill, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "Smart," she remarked, nodding in approval. "With something like that, you mitigated the damage before it could become life-threatening. A practical choice, especially in situations like yours." 
Astron's lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing, slipping the pill back into his pocket. 
"You did well to carry something like that," the medic continued, her tone softening slightly. "It's clear you were prepared, Cadet. You've handled yourself well." She straightened, stepping back after finishing her inspection. "I understand. You're dismissed. But I'd still recommend taking it easy for the next day or so. The potion and pill may have done their part, but your body still needs rest." 
Astron stood slowly, his movements controlled as he 'tested' his balance. He gave the medic a small nod. "Understood." 
But as he was about to leave, the door of the infirmary opened and someone entered. 
"Astron!" 
It was a young girl with a fiery hair. 
******** 
The special training room allocated to Irina shimmered with the faint glow of reinforced mana barriers, designed to withstand even the most intense displays of power. The air was thick with heat, the scent of scorched metal lingering as flames flickered and danced around her. Her fiery hair clung to her damp forehead as she moved, her powerful strikes sending waves of fire cascading through the room. 
"Focus," Irina muttered to herself, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Her amber eyes gleamed with determination as she thrust her hand forward, a torrent of fire erupting from her palm and slamming into the glowing target dummy at the far end of the room. The flames licked hungrily at the edges of the reinforced structure, but the dummy held firm, glowing faintly as it absorbed the brunt of the attack. 
Irina took a step back, her hands resting briefly on her knees as she caught her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat dripping down her temples and soaking the edges of her training gear. The room, though equipped with cooling enchantments, felt like a furnace—exactly the way she liked it. 
"That's enough for now," she muttered, straightening and walking toward the edge of the room where her towel lay draped over a bench. She grabbed it, running it across her face and neck to mop up the sweat as she exhaled slowly. The adrenaline from her training began to ebb, leaving behind the pleasant ache of exertion in her muscles. 
With her towel slung over her shoulder, Irina walked toward the far corner of the room where her smartwatch rested on the ground beside her water bottle. She picked it up, the cool surface of the device a stark contrast to the heat still radiating from her skin. 
As she unlocked the screen, the glow of notifications greeted her—messages and a few alerts from the academy's system. Irina swiped through them lazily, her thumb pausing briefly as she scrolled through her messages. 
Irina leaned back against the wall, letting out a slow breath as she wiped her neck with the towel draped over her shoulder. Her fiery hair clung to her damp skin, and the cool surface of her smartwatch was a welcome reprieve against her fingertips. She stared at the screen, her amber eyes scanning the messages and notifications idly. 
"Should I just call him?" she muttered to herself, the thought slipping out before she could stop it. The idea had been lingering in her mind all day, and now that her training session was winding down, the urge to meet up with Astron was hard to ignore. 'One session left. Maybe we could go somewhere together… hang out?' she thought, her lips curving into a small, almost mischievous smile. 'That could work.' 
But for now, rest came first. She shook her head lightly, dismissing the idea for the moment. Tossing her towel onto the bench, she unlocked her smartwatch again, deciding to kill time on the school forums before her break ended. 
As she navigated to the forum, the first thing that caught her attention was a trending post near the top of the feed. 
[Violence on Campus] 
The title immediately grabbed her attention, her brows furrowing slightly as she tapped the post to open it. 
Irina's finger hovered over the screen as the post loaded. The video thumbnail alone sent a jolt through her system—a dimly lit room with faintly flickering light, and in the corner of the frame, Astron sitting silently. His black hair hung low over his face, but those unmistakable purple eyes glinted faintly in the darkness. 
"Astron?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the empty training room. 
Her heart clenched as the video began to play. The shaky footage was taken from a poorly concealed vantage point, perhaps through a crack in a doorway or a small window. The room's oppressive atmosphere bled through the screen—the gravity visibly affecting every movement within it. 
Astron sat in the center of the room, his posture calm, controlled, despite the immense weight pressing down on him. His face bore a quiet resilience, his expression unreadable. Irina felt her chest tighten at the sight, a mixture of worry and confusion bubbling to the surface. 
The door to the room opened, and four figures entered. She didn't recognize them immediately as sophomores, but somehow she felt like she didn't see anyone like this in freshmen students. 
'Ah that band, sophomores.' 
Though from their uniforms she will see that they were sophomores. 
Their arrogance radiated through the screen as they moved toward Astron, their steps heavy and deliberate under the amplified gravity. 
Irina's amber eyes narrowed, her fingers tightening around her smartwatch as the tension in the video mounted. 
The man stopped a few feet from Astron, his lips moving, though the audio was faint and garbled. But even without hearing the words, the mocking grin on his face spoke volumes. 
And then, it happened. 
Without warning, the sophomore and his lackeys lunged at Astron. The camera shook slightly as the violent scene unfolded. Fists connected with flesh, the brutal impacts echoing faintly even through the poor-quality audio. 
Astron's head snapped to the side from a punch, blood spraying into the air. A kick to his midsection sent him slamming into the wall, and another blow brought him to his knees. He didn't cry out, didn't beg—his silence only seemed to fuel their aggression. 
"This…." 
The video continued, showing Astron being beaten relentlessly. Blood splattered across the metallic floor, his black hair clinging to his face as he refused to go down entirely. 
The man crouched down, gripping Astron's face, his lips moving again. The camera zoomed in slightly, catching the faint twitch of a smirk from Astron. 
Then the beating resumed, punctuated by heavy kicks and punches. 
One of the lackeys scrawled something across Astron's shirt before the four of them finally left the room, laughing and jeering as they exited. 
The video ended with Astron on his hands and knees, blood pooling beneath him as he slowly, painstakingly pushed himself upright. His head hung low, but his purple eyes remained fierce, burning with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down Irina's spine. 
The video stopped abruptly, leaving the screen black. 
Irina's fiery yellow eyes narrowed as the video ended, her fingers still gripping her smartwatch tightly. A slow smirk spread across her lips as she leaned back against the wall of the training room, the faint echoes of her earlier training still ringing faintly in the air. 
"What are you playing at this time…" she murmured, her voice barely audible over the hum of the mana barriers. 
Her thoughts raced as she pieced together the scene she'd just witnessed. The beating, the sophomores' smug grins, and, most importantly, Astron's eerie silence throughout. A lesser person might have been alarmed, but Irina knew better. This wasn't an ordinary act of bullying. No, this was Astron. Everything about him was deliberate, calculated. The fact that he was there, taking the hits without resistance, only meant one thing: it was part of his plan. 
'It might not even be him,' she thought, her smirk deepening. Knowing Astron, it wouldn't surprise her if he was the one behind the camera, controlling the entire narrative from the shadows. 
"So that's what you've been preparing," she muttered, tilting her head slightly as if imagining him sitting in a dark room, orchestrating everything like a chess master setting up his pieces. 'That bastard… he's baiting them, isn't he?' 
Her thoughts drifted briefly to their earlier conversations, back when she had revealed it was Trevor Philips who had spread the rumors about him. She had been curious then, wondering what Astron's next move would be. Now, it seemed, she was seeing it unfold in real time. 
Still smirking, Irina straightened, tossing her towel onto the bench as an idea began to form in her mind. "You wouldn't mind if I joined in on the fun, would you?" she said softly, the mischievous glint in her eyes burning brighter. After all, this wasn't just an opportunity for Astron—it was one for her, too. 
'Let me cling to you a little, Astron,' she thought, the smirk on her lips turning into a full grin. 'If you're making a statement, I might as well make one, too.' 
Without wasting another second, Irina grabbed her water bottle and phone, shoving them into her bag as she slung it over her shoulder. The training room's intense heat dissipated behind her as she strode out, her steps purposeful. The infirmary wasn't far, and if she knew Astron—and she did—he'd likely be there, playing the role he had so carefully crafted. 
Her fiery hair swayed as she quickened her pace, her mind already spinning with ideas. 'If you're going to bait them, I'll make sure they see exactly who's standing by your side when it all falls apart.'