Surviving the Assassin Academy as a Genius Professor
Chapter 96: The Hand (6)

A surge of current ran through my brain.

He doesn’t listen to me anymore?

There was a hint in Betelgeuse’s words. Maybe Balmung’s [Stigma] had always operated like a curse. And Betelgeuse had been keeping it under control—somewhat.

It reminded me of what he’d said once—how the Dormant Dragon cadets were beyond faculty control, and he hoped I could keep them in check.

I had no intention of dancing to that tune. But this situation—someone had to end it.

“...Is it a Command, Senior Professor Betelgeuse?”

I asked amid the chaos. Betelgeuse gave a slight nod.

That made sense. A [Stigma] reacts heavily to intent. Because stars read the will of their bearer.

The Cain Tree was nothing more than an illusionary construct, yet it had received the Stigma of Peace☮. Why? Because my will for peace had been read by the stars.

Following that train of thought—there was now something that only I could do here.

I stepped forward.

“Ah? Professor Dante?”

The agents’ eyes turned to me.

“Professor Dante, where are you—”

“Wait, please don’t go in, Professor! It’s dangerous...!”

The Disciplinary Bureau agents who recognized me shouted. They were the same ones who’d flinched earlier during the clash with the gang members.

“Senior Professor Dante! Do not approach him!”

Even the Director, who was still receiving healing magic for his stab wound, tried to stop me.

“We’ve called the Emergency Response Unit’s [Nameless Ones]...! Senior Professor Betelgeuse, please stop him...!”

He clearly thought I was a rogue professor and tried to appeal to Betelgeuse.

But the Nameless Ones were useless.

If machines could solve this, Betelgeuse would’ve already done it.

Balmung now was a bomb. Sheer force wouldn’t solve it.

The answer lay within Balmung himself.

If he came to his senses, the [Stigma] would lose its power.

“Khrrggh...!”

I knelt down before Balmung, who was clutching his chest, head bowed in front of the bars.

“Get lost! You wanna die!?”

He was half-mad. Sound, sight—none of it was being properly processed in his fractured mind. Even his internal 【Script】 was flickering wildly.

“I said fuck off!!”

He just screamed at the unfamiliar presence drawing near.

A moment more and he’d lunge.

From here, I had to Command him.

But what do I say?

Wait? Sit? Like I did with Elize?

No. Those are for excited, restless subhumans who’ve lost control but still retain agency.

This wasn’t that.

This was something deeper than a dog wagging its tail at a treat.

“Get lost!!!”

And now, he was turning that aggression on the Bureau agents who’d always protected him.

That’s when I found the answer.

The one way to save Balmung.

***

I once read something online.

It said that dogs and cats were “livestock”—that it was sad they’d lost their freedom and now lived chained to humans.

It became a topic of heated debate.

Is losing freedom and living bound to humans really a tragedy?

I don’t know. I’m neither an expert nor livestock.

Though if you called a grad student a professor’s livestock, I’d stab you.

Still, it was an interesting point, so I looked into a few papers and found an amusing theory.

The process of becoming livestock is called “domestication.”

Domestication.

It’s a process both animals and humans consent to.

Academically, there are three rough conditions—even if there’s no exact definition.

First is “mutualism.”

A relationship where both parties benefit and live together.

Long ago, humans fed dogs scraps of food. Dogs, in return, guarded them from intruders.

I approached Elize for a Star Fragment. She followed me like a dog after a bone. We were in a mutual relationship.

Third is “co-evolution.”

Living together long enough to affect each other’s genes.

For example, a dog’s eye muscles evolved after meeting humans.

Unlike wolves, dogs can move the muscles around their eyes to look happy—or sad.

When humans say, “She’s smiling,” it’s because the dog really is smiling.

Why did I start with the third?

Because Balmung’s issue came from the second.

Second is “taming.”

Taming means forming a relationship where neither party hurts the other.

Also called “socialization.”

An unsocialized owner kicks their dog. An unsocialized dog bites their owner.

“You’re responsible, forever, for what you’ve tamed.”

That’s what a certain fox once said.

It meant: I, who once lived wild, have become someone who doesn’t want to hurt—or be hurt—because of you. So you bear responsibility for what you made me.

But must that only apply to animals?

Humans should tame themselves too.

Hence, the idea of “self-domestication.”

The process of a human suppressing their animal instincts and adapting to society.

And nearly every modern human is a domesticated animal.

Long ago, we killed each other with blades.

Now, we cry because of a text message.

Some call that weakness.

They’re wrong.

It just means life got better.

...That, at ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) least, is what one expert hypothesized.

And while tracing that logic, suddenly—

Ah.

A forgotten memory returned.

A side story in the game: how to control the Nibelung Family.

The exact choices and methods came back to me.

Alpha Dog Story.

Balmung had forgotten his taming.

So I would remind him.

Something between beast and human.

Only then would a Command mean something.

‘...But if I’m going to use this method, I’ll need strength to match.’

I roughly gauged Balmung’s stats.

And calculated what I’d need.

Then I raised my [Stats].

< Cost: 253 Star Fragments. Proceed? >

< Investment complete. >

< [Strength] +101.0 >

< [Agility] +173.0 >

< [Endurance] +34.0 >

< [Magic Power] +50.0 >

< [Willpower] +60.0 >

< Combat Power: 170,573 → 183,113 (▲12,540) >

< Remaining Star Fragments: 155.5 (▼253) >

From somewhere in my mind, the power flowed through my veins—swelling through my whole body.

Now I had a body and strength worthy of a proper fight.

I’d been saving it all.

Didn’t regret it.

Because I planned to work that mutt to death.

⋮

Disciplinary Bureau agent KangKang was tense. Professor Dante was walking toward the beastlike Balmung.

“P-Professor... Professor...!!”

Senior Professor Dante Hiakapo—

Among professors, he was one of the few who treated the Bureau with respect.

He’d even worked with them a few times.

After the Joaquin incident, he’d casually thrown down 10,000 Hika for their party. So the Bureau liked him.

“I’m fine.”

“No, Professor Dante! If you go in...!”

KangKang tried to stop him—only to be held back by the other agents. “Let him.” The senior agents said.

The Bureau, the Wilhelm Family, even Division Chief Betelgeuse hadn’t managed to solve this.

But Professor Dante... held a strange promise.

Still, when he suddenly lifted the latch to the cell—

They tensed again.

‘Uh...?’

Was he really going in?

That thing was attacking people!

Amidst everyone’s concern, Professor Dante calmly entered and knelt.

“Khrrk... Kraaagh...!!”

Balmung, now so cursed he couldn’t even form words, flared his beastly eyes.

Dante extended his hand.

“Balmung. Paw.”

The agents doubted their eyes.

Did he just ask that beast for its paw?

Of course it didn’t work. Balmung lunged like a wild animal.

That moment, Dante moved.

A fist smashed into his jaw. He rotated his hips and struck clean.

Balmung flew nearly four meters and slammed into the wall.

BOOM—!!

The agents gasped. The punch was far more brutal than expected.

Dante approached, still expressionless.

He crouched again in front of the fallen Balmung.

“Balmung. Paw.”

It was pointless.

“Rrrrragh, RAAAGH!!”

Howling like a wolf, Balmung charged again—faster than before, barely visible.

His black mana had formed claws.

He slashed toward Dante’s head.

CLANG!!

But it was an illusion.

The real Dante reappeared behind the stumbling Balmung—and brought his elbow down.

BOOM!!

Like a bomb.

Balmung slammed into the ground. The entire Bureau shook.

His lips split. His cheek tore.

Those who knew anatomy realized—his jaw was fractured.

A terrifying sight.

One that bordered on excessive brutality.

But Dante remained blank-faced.

As if he’d just split firewood.

He knelt again.

“Balmung. Paw.”

Balmung didn’t listen.

RAAAGH!! He shrieked and lunged again.

Again. A third time. A fourth. A fifth.

Dante struck. Kicked. Stomped. Cornered him.

Each time, Balmung’s heartbeat grew louder.

Those who could see curses realized it—Balmung’s curse was worsening.

‘Is this really the right way...?’

‘He’ll die like this...!’

He’d attacked them, yes—but he was always polite. The only Dormant Dragon cadet who treated the Bureau kindly.

Watching him be beaten half to death was agonizing.

WHAM!!

Another kick broke ribs. Balmung groaned, face down.

Dante approached.

“Balmung.”

Rrghh... With a hoarse growl, Balmung looked up—ready to charge again.

But Dante didn’t flinch.

He spoke calmly.

“No matter how much you scream, lunge, or try to hurt me—none of it matters.”

RAAAGH!!

This time, the claws grazed Dante’s neck. Skin tore.

THUD!

But Balmung hit the ground again. Dante had slammed him down by the throat.

Even bleeding, Dante didn’t waver.

“I can do this as many times as it takes.”

Balmung kept thrashing. Clawing. Biting. Trying to kill.

Dante didn’t budge.

“I’ll do this a hundred times. A thousand.”

He just spoke.

“When I say ‘paw,’ you give me your paw.”

Balmung screamed. Now even Dante was using full strength. But his voice remained sharp.

“If you bite me—I’ll bite back. If you show kindness—I’ll return it.”

The pressure between them was intense. Balmung thrashed like fire, Dante crushed like steel.

“I don’t care if you’re a child, a noble’s son, or a poor cursed bastard—none of that matters here.”

Then the claws scraped Dante’s cheek.

RIP!! Blood flew. Still no reaction.

“I won’t compromise with your beastliness. You’re in human society now. Show that you’ve been tamed.”

Someone watching felt—like Dante was growling back in human tongue.

“Show kindness to people. You Nibelung mutt.”

Balmung lurched again.

Dante tripped him effortlessly.

“Balmung.”

At the end, Dante held out his hand.

“Paw.”

⋮

The battle between Balmung and the professor continued.

Blood flew. Bones cracked. They broke each other bit by bit.

No one could stop it. No one could look away.

Someone finally ran to Betelgeuse and asked what it meant.

He explained simply—the relationship between [Curses], [Stigmas], and Commands.

Then the agents realized: Dante was offering his body to save Balmung.

Thankfully, at some point, Balmung’s resistance began to weaken.

Though—he was bleeding too much.

He looked like he was dying.

From here on, they could only trust the professor.

With clenched jaws, they watched to the end.

Then—it happened.

‘Oh...!!’

‘Finally...!’

Balmung slowly placed his paw—his hand—on Dante’s.

Bruised eyes stared up at him.

‘He’s lifting it!’

‘He’s giving it! He’s giving his hand!!’

Agents rushed to the bars, pressing against them.

Even though they hadn’t touched yet.

At last, when their hands nearly met—

They shouted.

“B-Balmung!!”

“Professor! Is... is he okay!?”

The professor didn’t reply.

He just looked down at Balmung.

But everyone knew.

Balmung had found himself again. His will had cast off the Black Star⚉’s Stigma.

And to prove it—the black aura faded, completely washed away.

“Oh?! Look! The medics are here!”

“Hey! Over here!”

“Professor...! Are you alright?!”

Amid the chaos,

A slow hand finally touched Dante’s.

Balmung’s deadened eyes looked up at him.

Like a dog who’d just broken a vase.

“Professor... I...”

Then, the professor’s large hand touched his head.

“Good boy.”

He held the bloodied head close.

Like a human embracing a loyal dog.

“Well done.”

┃ Relationship Level Increased: Balmung [70] (▲35)

┃ Reward: Star Fragments × 35