Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest novel Chapter 783

The soft glow of Ethan’s tablet illuminated the otherwise dark room, casting flickering shadows on the walls. His room was small but meticulously organized—training gear neatly stacked in one corner, books and notes spread out on the desk. The faint hum of the academy’s automated systems filtered through the silence, but Ethan paid no attention to it.

His hazel eyes were fixed on the screen, unblinking. The video played for what felt like the hundredth time, but the weight in his chest hadn’t lessened.

Astron was in the center of the screen, bloodied and beaten, surrounded by Victor Langley and his lackeys. Ethan’s jaw clenched as he watched the first punch land, the sickening crack reverberating in his mind like an echo.

The young man with black hair and purple eyes didn’t fight back. He didn’t even flinch. He simply endured, his silence speaking volumes in a way no words ever could.

Astron was in the center of the screen, bloodied and beaten, surrounded by Victor Langley and his lackeys. Ethan’s jaw clenched as he watched the first punch land, the sickening crack reverberating in his mind like an echo.

The young man with black hair and purple eyes didn’t fight back. He didn’t even flinch. He simply endured, his silence speaking volumes in a way no words ever could.

Ethan’s grip on the tablet tightened, his knuckles turning white as. The sophomores’ blows came hard and fast, the sound of fists and feet connecting with flesh making his stomach twist. Blood sprayed across the floor, splattering Astron’s dark hair and pale face.

The video ended, looping back to the start. Ethan didn’t move to stop it. He leaned forward instead, elbows resting on his knees as his free hand pressed against his mouth. His hazel eyes glinted in the dim light, his expression unreadable but filled with quiet tension.

"Why didn’t you fight back?" he muttered under his breath, his voice low and edged with frustration.

The comments beneath the video scrolled past, but he barely glanced at them.

"Victor’s a piece of trash. Someone needs to stop him."

"Astron’s tougher than anyone thought. Respect."

"This just proves how far he’s willing to go. He didn’t break."

Ethan paused the video mid-loop, freezing the frame on Astron’s face. Blood trickled down his chin, his hair plastered to his forehead, but his purple eyes stared back at the camera with unyielding resolve. That look unsettled Ethan—not because it was weak, but because of what it concealed.

"Damn it, Astron," Ethan muttered, leaning back in his chair. His hand ran through his blond hair in frustration, his grip momentarily tugging at the strands. "What are you trying to prove?"

Was this the same guy that had fought with himself?

Ethan leaned back in his chair, his head resting against the wall as his thoughts churned. Astron. A name that had come to occupy a peculiar space in his mind. For all the time they’d been around each other, Ethan still couldn’t figure him out. Astron was like a scarred wolf—proud, solitary, and fiercely guarded.

’Why do you do this to yourself?’ Ethan thought, his eyes drifting back to the frozen image on the tablet screen. The bloodied, unyielding expression Astron wore felt haunting. It wasn’t weakness; it wasn’t submission. It was something else entirely, something Ethan couldn’t quite place.

Astron’s demeanor had always been different from most. He wasn’t friendly, but he wasn’t cruel either. He was distant, cold, and blunt to a fault, yet there was something beneath that exterior—a quiet determination and a certain… brokenness.

’He’s not a bad guy,’ Ethan reminded himself. Despite Astron’s aloofness, Ethan had seen enough to know that he wasn’t malicious. He didn’t meddle in other people’s business, didn’t seek trouble, and he trained with an intensity that few could match. ’But why is he always alone?’

The thought gnawed at Ethan. It wasn’t just the loneliness that bothered him, though that was part of it. It was the fact that Astron accepted things—like the beating he’d endured in the video—as if he expected them, as if he believed he deserved them. That didn’t sit right. Not with Ethan.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the tablet, anger bubbling under his calm exterior. ’No one deserves this. And yet he just stood there and took it.’

As the image of Astron’s bloodied face filled his mind, a memory stirred—a fragment, faint and disjointed.

"I’m sorry."

The words echoed faintly, like a voice from another world. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he grasped at the memory, trying to make sense of it.

"You are sorry for what?"

A figure stood before him, shadowed and indistinct. Blood dripped from their body, pooling at their feet. Ethan’s grip tightened around the spear in his hand, its tip pointed toward the person. The weight of the scene pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.

The memory ended as abruptly as it had come, leaving Ethan with a lingering sense of unease. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. ’What was that?’

Ethan leaned back in his chair, his breath steady but his mind anything but calm. The fragment of memory lingered, its edges blurred but its weight undeniable. He hadn’t recalled anything like that happening before—no such moment in his life, no scene that would explain it. And yet, it felt real. Too vivid, too heavy, to simply dismiss as a stray thought.

’What is this?’ he wondered, rubbing his temples as if that might help dislodge more from the depths of his mind. He tried to piece it together, but the more he thought about it, the more elusive it became.

What he did remember, however, were the eyes. Empty, haunting purple eyes staring back at him. There was no anger in them, no defiance—just silence. Acceptance.

Ethan’s hazel eyes flicked back to the tablet, frozen on the image of Astron’s bloodied face. His stomach twisted as he realized why those eyes felt so familiar.

’They’re the same.’