I Became the Academy’s Time-Stopping Villain – Chapter 4

Chapter 4: I Think My Head is Cracked

Translated and Proofread by Vine
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What comes to mind when you hear “ranged combat?”

Classically, it’s the bow. Notching an arrow, drawing the string taut, and releasing. A timeless image.

In the modern era, it’s the gun. A product of human ingenuity, a testament to our scientific advancement.

And then there’s holy magic. A gift from the heavens, a blessing from the gods. Primarily derived from the main deities, holy magic manifests in a myriad of forms, from healing to elemental manipulation—fire, ice, lightning. Its expression is as varied as the gods themselves.

In this regard, Hera’s apostle, Juno, was…

“I mainly use a bow. I’ve had some training, so I’m a decent shot.”

‘Yeah… I know…’ Her primary weapon was a bow. Eventually, depending on her training, she could branch out into guns or staves, but for now, Juno was a bow user.

“So, you see, this bow is amazing because—”

Juno proudly displayed her bow, recounting tales of school awards and how it was a gift from her master.

Reading through the dialogue in the game, I’d thought she was genuinely passionate about archery and deeply respected her master, but hearing it in person…

“Um… was that boring?”

“Uh… well…” Honestly, I just wanted her to leave me alone. It wasn’t that I disliked the attention from a girl with heroine-level beauty, but she was a heroine. A heroine inextricably linked to the protagonist, complete with the childhood friend trope. The protagonist had already driven one person away, claiming to be a regressor. If he saw me with Juno and realized I was part of the infamous NTR trio, things wouldn’t end well. Even if nothing happened, the future would undoubtedly become complicated.

“Um… sorry. I’m not very good at conversations.”

“Ah, I see…” I subtly distanced myself, trying to discourage Juno without being too obvious. I felt bad, but I had no choice. I had a mission to complete, which meant beating her, and I absolutely couldn’t get involved with the protagonist. I knew our paths were destined to cross eventually, but I wanted to delay it as long as possible.

I took another step back.

“Sorry! Sorry! Please don’t avoid me so openly!”

“…Huh?” Juno followed. Why? There weren’t any likeability points or interaction triggers in this scenario, so her persistence was confusing.

“Ah, well… that is… um…” She seemed to realize her own forwardness and floundered for an explanation. Taking a breath, she blurted out, “I thought you were amazing in your fight with Mars!” She was impressed, she explained, by how I’d managed to defeat Mars, the daughter of the Ares Guild—a fact well-known to anyone familiar with Mars.

“And you come to morning exercises every day, right? You wake up earlier than anyone, and you never rest, you never slack off, you just keep running steadily…”

“…Okay?”

“Ah, so! I’m not saying it like that, okay? I have a boyfriend…!”

“Uh… right.” She had a boyfriend. Presumably the protagonist. Was his name Jupiter, or something like that? ‘Her way of speaking, though…’ It was straight out of a 90s Japanese childhood friend anime. In the game, it had been easy enough to accept, but hearing it in person was unsettling. It was like watching a method actor give a deeply committed performance, except this wasn’t acting. It was genuine.

“Cadet Aslan, step forward!”

“Yes.”

‘Haaaa~~~wwn… ugh.’ I turned my attention to the ongoing test.

“Accuracy—B.” Shoot a target from a set distance.

“Range—C.” Hit a target that gradually moved further away.

“Dynamic Vision—D.” Clay shooting.

“Power—D.” Full-power throw at a scarecrow.

“Cadet Aslan, total score 11 points – C.”

“Ugh…” There were three events, none of them easy. For a normal person, even hitting the target would be a challenge, let alone accuracy, range, and dynamic vision. ‘Speaking of shooting…’ My experience was limited to arcade BB guns and a few sessions at the shooting range during my military service. I was utterly average.

“Cadet Juno, step forward.”

“My turn. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Juno, on the other hand…

“Accuracy—A.” A perfect score, as expected.

“Range—B.” Decent range.

“Dynamic Vision—D.” The only drawback was the time it took to notch and draw her bow.

“Power—B.” Given enough time, her shots packed a decent punch.

“Cadet Juno, total score 15 points – B.”

“Bullshit.” How was I supposed to beat that? I couldn’t see a way to win.

“Phew… so, how was it? Were you watching closely?”

“…You were amazing.”

“Right? My special training paid off!”

None of the other cadets surpassed Juno’s score. A few managed a B rank, but no one broke 15 points. A new record. Suddenly, recalling something, I asked Juno, “You… why are you in Class C?”

“I wanted to be in the same class as Ter!”

“You followed your boyfriend.”

Her skills clearly warranted a higher class. The protagonist’s initial stats would be similar to mine, placing him in C rank at best. If she’d followed her boyfriend, Class C was her only option. She could move up during the readjustment exam in a month, but that was a problem for future Juno.

“Cadet Chrono, step forward.”

“I don’t want to…” I had to beat Juno’s record. That was the priority.

“Good luck, Chrono!”

“…Hmm.” Not just beat it, but… I turned to Juno. “What will you do if I beat your record?”

“Huh? Are you proposing a wager?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm… I’ll buy you a bun from the cafeteria!”

“Deal.” A truly cadet-worthy wager. I stepped forward.

“Cadet Chrono, your weapon?”

“Uh… do you have a gun?”

“Did you forget your weapon?”

“Well…” I didn’t have a weapon. I’d planned to use a gun, but I hadn’t brought one. A significant problem. The teacher raised an eyebrow. “What? Are you holding it in your hand right now?”

“Huh?” Was I holding something?—Yes. A pistol. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t there a moment ago…?’ As I stared at the pistol in my hand, a window popped up.

“Ah…” This really was a scythe. As I examined the pistol, now radiating a faint, dark aura, the teacher told me to stop wasting time.

“Phew…” First test: accuracy. Shoot the target from a fixed distance of one hundred meters. I took a deep breath, recalling my military training, and squeezed the trigger.

“Accuracy—C.”

“…Tsk.” Not bad. The problem was, it was worse than Juno’s score. A two-point difference.

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“Range—D.” The long-distance target was even more disastrous. The pistol, naturally, had a range limit. Now a four-point difference.

“Clay shooting. Ready.”

“…Ready.” Track and shoot the launched clay pigeons. The first one launched. I aimed and fired.

Bang!… Bang!… “…Sigh.” The shooting itself wasn’t difficult. Being a divine weapon, the pistol didn’t require reloading. But the increasing speed of the clays was pushing my reaction time to its limit. ‘At this rate…’ I was going to lose. If I couldn’t close the point gap here, it was over.

Bang! Bang!… Bang!*

“One miss.”

“Ugh…!” I’d missed. Two more, and it was over. My mind raced, but the clays were just too fast. ‘If only they’d slow down a little…’ A useless thought. I tightened my grip on the pistol, focusing all my attention on the next clay.

Whooooosh~~

“…Huh?” The clay seemed strangely slow. I fired, hitting it cleanly. ‘Is something wrong?’ I glanced at the teacher.

“Ne…xt…”

“…Ah.” It had slowed down. Or maybe I had sped up. Whatever the cause, the clay pigeons were moving at half their previous speed.

Bang!… Bang!… Bang!… Bang!*

“Oh… ohhh…!” The clays gradually increased in speed, but not significantly. When they reached their initial velocity, I missed again.

“Dynamic Vision—A.”

“Yesss…!” I’d caught up! Only one point separated us. If I scored an A and five points in the power test… ‘…It would still be a tie, wouldn’t it?’ I was screwed. If only I’d scored one point higher in accuracy or range, I might have had a chance. It was frustrating, knowing that even my best effort would only result in a tie. “Still… I didn’t lose.” Maybe Juno would take pity on me? The teacher gestured towards the scarecrow. “You have three chances. The highest power recorded will be your score.”

The power test. Deliver my strongest blow to the specially treated scarecrow. I loaded the pistol and considered my options. How could I maximize the power?

[Limit: 1s] ‘One second…’ What could I do in one second? I closed my eyes, thinking. Maximum efficiency. Maximum power. Power. Power was force. “Force is mass times acceleration.” F=ma. My deliberation was over. I raised the pistol.

“Hooo…!” Focus. Complete and utter focus. The bullet’s mass was constant. The variable was velocity. I squeezed the trigger, channeling all my will, all my power, into the shot.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

“Uh…?” The bullet shot out with a deafening roar. The force of the recoil sent the pistol flying from my hand, straight towards my head—uh oh…? Crack!

“…Ugh.” My vision swam with red. Strength drained from my limbs. A throbbing pain exploded in my skull. “Cadet Chrono? Cadet Chrono!” I didn’t need anything anymore. Just… sleep.

“Uh, ugh…” I woke up. Let me sleep. My head felt like it had been split open. Maybe it actually had.