I Became the Must-Have Character of the Academy City

Knock, knock, knock.

At Rohan's knock, the window of the van slowly rolled down with a faint mechanical whir.

A thick wave of cigarette smoke wafted out, filling the air between them.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man in the driver’s seat barked, his eyes sharp and his demeanor hostile. His hands twitched as if ready to reach for a weapon at any moment.

"Why haven’t you answered the calls? The elders sent me to get an update," Rohan replied calmly, delivering the fabricated line he’d prepared.

Knowing who had hired these men gave him the confidence to act this way. Unlike the protagonist, who would have likely charged in headfirst, Rohan opted for a path that didn’t even exist in the game.

The mention of "elders" seemed to disarm the driver slightly.

"The calls?" The man checked his phone, his expression twisting into one of confusion. "There haven’t been any calls."

"I wouldn’t know about that. All I know is they’re furious you didn’t pick up," Rohan said flatly.

The man grimaced, looking genuinely uncomfortable. He glanced at the passenger seat, as if seeking confirmation or support, and began muttering to his partner.

Listening to their aimless back-and-forth, Rohan’s suspicions solidified.

‘It’s them.’

He had already been certain from the way they reacted to the word "elders," but now there was no doubt.

These were the thugs from the tutorial: the Yard-Pound brothers.

Known for taking on any job for the right price, their crimes spanned from petty theft to murder.

"Yard, I guess we’ll just pass on the message like that," the driver muttered toward his partner.

The man in the passenger seat, apparently Yard, sighed and finally turned his attention to Rohan.

"There’s nothing special to report. No calls came through. Go back and tell them that," Yard said curtly.

"It doesn’t work like that," Rohan replied, scanning his surroundings quickly.

The protagonist, or anyone who might intervene, was nowhere in sight. The street was quiet, with not even a passing pedestrian to witness what was about to unfold.

‘Might as well get this over with.’

Rohan’s hands clenched and unclenched beneath his hoodie. Memories of his time as a hunter, of dealing with criminals who used powers for their own gain, filled his mind.

Before he could act, a low, gravelly voice interrupted from the passenger seat.

"Enough," Yard said.

The driver immediately shut up, visibly shrinking in his seat.

"You’re too loose-lipped, Pound. That’s your problem."

"I-I’m sorry!" the driver stammered, bowing his head.

"It’s fine," Yard muttered, opening the passenger door with a dull click.

He stepped out, his mechanical prosthetic arm gleaming faintly under the streetlights.

The sight of him was unmistakable.

Yard, the dominant figure among the Yard-Pound brothers.

The man rolled his cheap prosthetic wrist, the joints creaking noisily as he walked toward Rohan. His eyes burned with hostility, though his movements remained measured.

Stopping a step away from Rohan, Yard spoke with a voice laced with irritation.

"The elders never make calls during operations. They only vent their complaints during our scheduled reports."

"So?" Rohan said coolly, his tone unfazed.

The casual response made Yard’s eyebrow twitch, though he held his composure.

"Also," Yard continued, taking a slow breath to steady himself, "we’ve never been given a specific number to call."

"That’s understandable," Rohan replied with a small nod.

Of course, the "elders" would never use consistent contact methods. They saw these brothers as expendable pawns, nothing more.

The money might have been good, but these men were nothing more than disposable tools to their employers.

"This operation has only been underway for two hours. And now you’re here, demanding updates? Are you trying to find a pretext to cut our pay again, like last time?"

"Even if your pay gets cut, you should be thankful," Rohan said, his voice low.

"What?"

"You’re sitting here, far enough from the dormitories to avoid her attention. If you’d gotten any closer, Frozenheart would have killed you on the spot."

Yard’s forehead bulged with a visible vein.

He stepped forward, using his prosthetic arm to roughly shove Rohan back.

"Say that again, kid. Who’s going to kill who?"

The stench of arrogance and false pride emanating from men like Yard was all too familiar. Rohan smirked faintly beneath his mask.

"Are you laughing, you little—"

"Yard! Don’t provoke him! If this gets messy—" the driver, Pound, tried to interject.

"Shut up, Pound," Yard snapped.

His gaze remained locked on Rohan, who stood his ground, calm and unwavering.

If Rohan simply ignored them and walked away, there was no telling how things might escalate. But one thing was certain—if Noah ever crossed paths with these men, they wouldn’t survive.

The gap between their abilities was beyond comprehension.

Even a flick from Noah could shatter Yard’s prosthetic arm—and probably his skull along with it.

‘If I let them go now, they’ll just cause more problems elsewhere.’

Rohan took one last glance at his surroundings, then clenched his fists.

"I never planned to let these guys walk away alive."

Rohan smirked under his mask. The notion of sparing them never even crossed his mind—letting them live would only create more trouble down the line.

[A Quest Has Appeared!]
[Combat Chick]

• Quest Objective: You've uncovered a group surveilling Noah Frozenheart. Punish these brothers who have lived a life of crime.
• Type: Tutorial
• Rewards for Success: Erase evidence of the battle, 1 positive cliché, 300P
• Failure Penalty: None

"Perfect."

The timing of the quest couldn't have been better.

While the rewards weren’t comparable to the experience and loot from the game version of Abyss City, they were still more than enough for Rohan’s current situation.

"Especially since cleanup was going to be a hassle," he thought.

He wasn’t sure what “positive cliché” meant, but the quest system itself didn’t feel like an imposition—it seemed to complement his actions and decisions, spurring him on rather than dictating his path.

"Damn it, even if it’s from them, I’m not about to put up with this crap from some errand boy—"

Before Yard could finish his tirade, Rohan moved.

Thunk!

Rohan’s thumb jabbed into Yard’s eye without warning.

"Argh!"

Yard screamed, his hands shooting up to clutch his face.

In that split second, Rohan’s foot swung up and delivered a brutal kick to Yard’s groin.

Crack!

The large man collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, unable to even muster a proper scream. His hands clawed at the pavement, his body trembling violently.

"Y-Yard!"

Pound, the driver, flung open the door and scrambled to get out of the van, panicking.

"Not so fast."

Rohan’s kick slammed the door shut, catching Pound’s body in the process.

"Ack!"

The door rattled with the force, and Pound yelped in pain as he was sandwiched between the frame. The knife he had been clutching clattered to the ground.

Rohan snatched up the knife without hesitation.

"Shk!"

The blade plunged into Pound’s throat, a sickening squelch filling the air.

"Gghhh…"

Blood bubbled from Pound’s mouth as Rohan withdrew the blade. He spared no more than a glance at the driver’s lifeless body, now slumped against the seat.

Behind him, Yard staggered to his feet, clutching his groin and glaring at Rohan with a mixture of fury and desperation.

"You son of a—!"

The metallic clang of Yard’s prosthetic arm filled the alley as he swung wildly. But his movements were clumsy, more brute force than skill.

"This is just tutorial-level stuff," Rohan mused, effortlessly dodging the swings.

Without needing to use any skills, he countered with swift strikes, leaving shallow cuts on Yard’s arms and torso.

"Huff… huff…"

Yard’s breath grew ragged as blood trickled from his many wounds. His bravado faltered, and his gaze darted toward his fallen brother.

"Too late to regret now," Rohan thought, watching the realization dawn on Yard.

"Let’s finish this. I’ve got a good night’s sleep waiting for me."

Rohan flipped the knife in his hand, the blade gleaming as he stepped forward.

"No… no! You—"

Yard’s protests were cut short as Rohan sidestepped another clumsy swing and drove the blade into his neck.

"Ghh… khhh…"

Yard stumbled back, blood spurting from the wound as he tried to speak. He teetered for a moment before collapsing with a heavy thud.

"That’s that."

Rohan sighed, wiping the blade clean before tucking it into his pocket.

He opened the van’s doors and, with a few quick motions, hauled the bodies inside.

"Might as well see if they’ve got anything useful."

Rohan rummaged through the vehicle.

"Figures."

The brothers were as broke as they were reckless. All he found was a measly 6 coins—barely worth 60,000 won. Not even a single firearm.

He tossed their shattered phones into a nearby trash bin and stepped back just as the quest notification popped up.

[Quest Complete!]
[Rewards Obtained!]
[Erasing Evidence…]

Rohan stood back and watched in awe as the scene cleaned itself up.@@novelbin@@

The van disappeared as if it had never been there, along with every trace of blood or struggle. Even the shattered phones he’d discarded vanished, leaving the area pristine.

"This system is really something."

Rohan grinned under his mask, thoroughly impressed.

As he made his way back to the dormitory, Rohan pondered his next steps.

"I’ll need an ally eventually, won’t I?"