Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 780

Trevor’s hand smashed into the table again, the monitor shaking from the force. His voice echoed through the dimly lit room, raw with frustration and rage.

"Useless bastards!" he roared, his purple eyes blazing with fury. His chest heaved as he glared at the looping video on the screen. The scene repeated like a mockery: Astron enduring the beating, bloodied but unbroken, and now, the comments flooding the forums were painting him as some kind of silent hero.

He grabbed the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as his nails dug into the wood. His rage boiled over as he shoved the monitor aside, sending it crashing against the wall. Sparks flew, the screen flickering briefly before plunging the room into darkness.

The faint vibration of his smartwatch pulled him from the brink of another outburst. He snatched it off the desk, swiping the screen aggressively to answer. Victor’s voice came through, laced with pride.

"Boss, it’s done," Victor said, sounding smug. "Mission accomplished. Everyone’s talking about it now."

Trevor’s lip curled into a snarl, his voice a venomous hiss. "Open the school forums."

Victor hesitated. "What?"

"I said open the forums, Victor." Trevor’s tone was ice-cold, every word deliberate. "Look at what’s trending."

There was a brief pause on the line as Victor fumbled with his device. Trevor could almost hear the growing unease in his voice as he navigated to the forums. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of Trevor’s breathing.

And then, Victor’s shout tore through the connection.

"What?! How?!" Victor’s voice cracked, his usual bravado gone. "How is there a video? We made sure—there was no one around! The cameras in the room weren’t even functional!"

Trevor smirked, but there was no humor in it, only malice. "Oh, there’s a video, alright. And it’s everywhere. Your faces are plastered across every corner of the forums."

"No… no, that’s not possible!" Victor sputtered, his panic growing. "We scanned the room! The artifact was supposed to detect everything—hidden cameras, recording spells, anything! We checked!"

"Well, clearly you missed something," Trevor snapped, his voice dripping with contempt. "The angle… it’s too close. Whoever recorded this was inside the room. And the fact that it’s out now means your so-called ’precautions’ were a complete joke."

Victor stammered, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. "But… no one else was there! We locked the room, we checked the perimeter—there was nothing! Nothing! This doesn’t make sense!"

Trevor’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair, his rage bubbling just beneath the surface. "It doesn’t matter how it happened," he said, his tone deadly calm. "What matters is that you failed. And now, this… mess is public."

Victor’s breathing grew heavier on the other end of the line, his panic giving way to desperation. "Boss, I swear, I don’t know how—"

Trevor leaned back in his chair, his purple eyes glinting coldly in the faint glow of his remaining monitor. He listened to Victor’s panicked rambling with a blank expression, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the edge of the desk.

Well, expecting anything from this worthless bastard was wrong anyway, Trevor thought, a bitter smirk creeping across his lips. He let Victor’s voice fade into the background, already calculating his next move.

"Boss, I swear, I don’t know how this happened—" Victor stammered, his voice cracking with desperation.

Trevor’s smirk widened. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers brushing the edge of his keyboard as he spoke. "Enough," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "You’ve already ruined everything. Your faces are all over the forums, Victor. Everyone knows it was you. At this point…" He paused, letting his words hang ominously in the air. "…at least make yourself useful."

Victor hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"Execute Plan B," Trevor said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Victor froze on the other end of the line. "But—Boss! That means—"

"That means nothing!" Trevor’s voice rose, a sudden edge of fury cutting through his usual composure. "You’re already finished, you idiot. Everyone has seen your face, your name is already being whispered around campus. Do you think there’s any way out for you now? At least salvage what’s left of this disaster."

"I—I’ll do it," Victor stammered, his resolve clearly wavering.

"Good," Trevor said, his tone mocking. "At least die with a shred of purpose, you useless bastard."

Without waiting for a reply, Trevor ended the call with a swipe of his fingers. He leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he reached toward a small concealed button beneath his desk. With a sharp press, a faint click echoed in the room.

The discarded smartwatch on his desk began to heat up, the metal surface glowing faintly. Within seconds, the device began to melt, a viscous, molten pool forming where it had once rested. The acrid smell of burning plastic filled the air.

Miles away, Victor’s phone emitted a high-pitched whine. His hand tightened instinctively around it, his expression twisting in confusion—then panic—as the device suddenly grew hot. "Wha—AHHH!" he screamed, dropping the phone as the searing heat burned his hand. The device fell to the ground, melting into a blackened mass of slag as smoke curled up from the remains.

Victor clutched his hand, his breath ragged as he stared at the charred remains of the phone. The pain was sharp, but the realization of what had just happened was worse.