Under normal conditions, reverting to human form took ten minutes. So when Empty City and Night Zero reached the principal’s office area, Night Zero slipped into the restroom first. After waiting outside for about ten minutes, Empty City saw Night Zero again—fully ready.

“Sorry for making you worry.”

Night Zero scratched his head sheepishly. On his first day back, so many unexpected incidents had occurred. It was awkward. Plus, they’d missed their appointment with the principal. Just thinking about the old man’s impending fury gave him a headache. Though, with luck, it might not be so bad.

“It’s nothing. Honestly, it’s partly my fault for triggering that state…”

He said it with a twinge of guilt. Truthfully, he’d been the one to carry Night Zero. Anyone would feel shy—especially Night Zero.

“Mm, forget it… Let’s hurry to the principal. Or we’ll get yelled at nonstop.”

The thought of that rigid old man sent a chill down Night Zero’s spine.

…

“Principal! I absolutely oppose this person becoming a teacher here!”

A roar erupted from Fiers Hero Academy’s principal office.

The voice belonged to a slender man in his twenties. He wore the academy’s blue teacher uniform. A name tag sat on his chest. Empty City glanced at it—Hamlet? Seriously? Shakespeare would weep in a bathroom over that name. Empty City sighed inwardly. He showed no reaction to the man’s words. His indifference only fueled the man’s irritation.

“No matter what, I still oppose it! Even if he’s a retired B Rank Hero, how can he teach without a certificate!?”

The real opposition wasn’t the principal—it was this sneering Hamlet.

“Hamlet. Shut it.”

“Principal Celestial Wolf, do you truly approve of Teacher Night Zero’s suggestion? I don’t believe someone like—”

He was cut off mid-sentence.

“I said shut it!”

*Bang!* Principal Celestial Wolf slammed his fists on the desk. The wooden surface instantly dented. Hamlet flinched, trembling. He glared fiercely at Empty City but stayed silent. Empty City had no clue why the man hated him so much.

“First, I trust Teacher Night Zero’s recommendation. Second, my decisions aren’t yours to question. Third! Control your rich, brawling students before meddling here!”

“But—”

Hamlet tried to salvage the situation.

“Enough. Leave now. I need to speak with these two alone.”

Hamlet was dismissed easily. He shot Empty City a resentful glare on his way out. Empty City didn’t even turn his head. Why Hamlet opposed him teaching? Principal Celestial Wolf likely knew best.

“Sigh… Why are young people so obsessed with love?”

“Huh? What did you say, Principal?”

Still shaken from the tension, Night Zero asked awkwardly.

“Nothing.”

As the door closed and footsteps faded, Academy Head Celestial Wolf relaxed. He slumped back into his chair, legs crossed high. No teacherly dignity here—but his personality wasn’t unpleasant.

“Well then. Welcome, Mr. Empty City. Or should I say… Emperor Heaven—White Chrysanthemum.”

His eyes sharpened, piercing through Empty City. An invisible aura flooded the office. Was this S Rank Hero power? The pressure choked Night Zero. He knew the gap between S Rank and A-Rank was vast—but not this extreme.

“Hey… cut it out. Can’t you see Night Zero’s struggling?”

The air turned icy. That voice—deep, bewitching, threatening. Night Zero had heard it in the Abyssal Prison. Five years ago.

*Is he doing this… for me?*

The thought barely formed when the aura vanished.

Celestial Wolf uncrossed his legs. His curious gaze swept over the young man. Only now did Empty City truly study the academy head.

Around thirty. Not old—yet Night Zero called him an old man. Muscular build. Large face. Flowing cornrows. A massive scar marked his cheek—battle-worn. That frame alone radiated terrifying authority anywhere.

“Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to. Just testing if the legendary invincible Emperor Heaven was real.”

Celestial Wolf grinned, as if nothing happened.

“So? What’d you find?”

Empty City glanced at the principal, then at Night Zero—recovering, unharmed. He relaxed. He didn’t know the exact S Rank and A-Rank gap. But Night Zero couldn’t endure that pressure long. That’s why he’d snapped.

“Emperor Heaven… lives up to his name. His strength is beyond us.”

Celestial Wolf rested his chin on clasped hands, helpless. One glance. One sentence from Empty City. He’d trembled, powerless. That’s why his aura vanished. This former S Rank Hero had zero resistance.

“Wait…”

Night Zero had been thinking during their talk. Something felt off.

Finally—

“Why does the principal know Empty City? No… it’s like he knew Empty City was White Sunflower.”