Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest - Chapter 959

Chapter 959: Chapter 220.5 – Protagonist, and Heroines ?

Jane… envied that.

Her focus had been splintered lately, even more so with everything that had happened. The stares, the rumors, the shadow of conflict that still loomed behind her even in the safety of library walls. She studied, yes. She worked. She trained. But there was always something clinging to the back of her mind, tugging her attention away.

But Astron?

He was like the eye of a storm. Everything around him could burn, and she suspected he’d still turn a page at the same pace.

Jane adjusted the sleeve of her coat slightly and lowered her gaze again. Her next line of notes was neater than usual—more deliberate.

She didn’t try to mimic him. But there was something about sharing space with someone like that… someone who wasn’t just calm, but anchored… that grounded her too. Just a little.

I want that kind of focus, she thought. That clarity.

Astron, for his part, didn’t look at her. Didn’t acknowledge her presence beyond the first glance. Yet, in some strange way, that was what made it easier. There were no expectations, no tension, no need to talk or perform or explain.

He simply existed next to her like a distant pillar. Quiet. Steady. Self-contained.

This—being invisible—was something Jane had always known.

Something she’d lived with.

The quiet background figure. The girl no one remembered first, whose name came up only during roll call, whose existence was often defined more by her absence than her presence.

She hadn’t hated it.

In fact, she’d grown comfortable with it. The anonymity. The peace of slipping through hallways unnoticed, of studying in corners without interruption.

She didn’t want to be known. Not really. Not in the way others craved.

Because being known meant being seen.

And being seen meant being vulnerable.

But lately… things had changed.

Ever since Emma’s cruel whispers started slipping through the cracks. Ever since Melanie had dragged that name—Mia—out into the open like a weapon. Ever since the rumors turned sharp and the eyes turned curious, judging, pitying.

And worst of all… ever since she started sitting next to Ethan.

Because Ethan wasn’t forgettable.

He stood out. In class, in training, in how he carried himself and how others looked at him.

And when Jane sat beside him—when he waited for her outside the lecture hall, when he laughed with her during lunch, when he walked her back to her dorm in the evenings—people looked.

And not just at him.

At her.

As if wondering, why her?

As if trying to connect dots she didn’t want them to find.

As if prying into a history she’d buried for a reason.

Jane kept her eyes down as her pen moved across the page again, but her fingers trembled slightly against the paper. The attention—it wasn’t constant, but it was enough. Enough to make her feel exposed.

Like someone had peeled back her carefully folded edges and placed her under glass.

And yet… she liked being around Ethan.

That was the part that made it all harder.

Because when he looked at her, it wasn’t like how the others did. He didn’t search for weakness. He didn’t ask questions she couldn’t answer. He didn’t press her to explain what didn’t want to be said.

He just… was there.

And that had been enough.

But the rest of the world didn’t work that way.

They wanted reasons. Justifications. Narratives to feed on.

And now she was under their eyes. Their scrutiny. Their malice.

The spotlight felt like a knife edge.

She glanced up briefly, just long enough to catch Ethan smiling at something Emily said—a small, warm laugh in his throat, easy and honest. Emily smiled back, tentative but real.

And for a brief second, Jane felt something cold stir in her chest.

Not anger. Not jealousy.

Just… fear.

Fear that she might one day not belong in that space beside him.

That whatever fragile peace she’d found with him might be shattered by the weight of being seen too much.

She lowered her gaze again, steadying her hand.

Astron was still beside her. Silent.

Astron was still beside her. Silent. Unmoving. A presence that did not demand space, but somehow occupied it entirely.

Jane kept her eyes low, letting her pen resume its gentle glide across the page—but the sensation of being watched lingered. Not the kind of gaze that clung or judged or burned with cruelty. No, this was different.

It wasn’t scrutiny.

It was observation.

And slowly, deliberately, she lifted her head.

Astron was looking at her.

Not in passing. Not as someone scanning the room. But at her.

His violet eyes—calm and unblinking—met hers with a quiet precision that made her breath catch in her throat. There was nothing cruel in them. Nothing condescending. Just that unnerving stillness. Like he was looking through her, peeling back layers without ever moving a muscle.

It unsettled her.

Jane shifted slightly in her seat, the corner of her lip twitching with uncertainty. Even Emily, despite her poised presence and noble upbringing, had avoided holding his gaze for long. Ethan was perhaps the only one who could meet it with ease—but Ethan was always a strange exception to the rule.

For Jane… it felt like standing in front of a mirror that reflected more than it should.

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“W-What is it?”

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted how shaky they sounded. How small.

Astron’s eyes narrowed slightly—not in irritation, but in a subtle expression of thought, as if he were analyzing the question itself rather than deciding how to answer.

Then, after a pause, his voice came—low, quiet, and as unhurried as always.

“…Nothing.”

Astron’s voice was barely more than breath, but the finality of it lingered in the space between them.

Jane blinked, half-expecting him to return to his reading, to simply let the moment dissipate like fog. But instead, he shifted—just slightly—and lifted one hand to gesture toward the book she had open in front of her.

A thick volume of combat breakdowns and spell formations. Dense, heavily annotated, the kind of reading most students avoided unless required.

His eyes flicked back to her with calm, dispassionate curiosity.

“Are you planning to become an analyst?”

Jane hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the page as if to steady herself.

The question didn’t sound mocking. Not even skeptical. Just… observant. Measured.

She swallowed lightly. “I—I don’t know.” Her voice was steadier this time, but faint. “It’s just… the theory makes more sense to me than—than practice sometimes.”

Astron gave a slow nod. “So yes.”

Jane blinked again.

His words weren’t a guess. They were a conclusion.

Astron tapped lightly on the page—once, precisely—where she had underlined a formula.

“You internalize patterns. You remember structures. You dissect outcomes based on known variables,” he said quietly, like reading a list off a chalkboard. “That’s what analysts do.”

Jane felt a strange flutter in her chest. Not quite pride. Not quite fear. Just… recognition.

“I’m not great in sparring,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “Not like the others. Not like Ethan.”

“Not everyone can be like this guy.”

“Ahaha….I guess that makes sense.”

Astron’s pen stilled mid-sentence. His eyes lifted again, returning to Jane with that same unwavering stillness.

“If you’re still in this academy,” he said calmly, “despite not being strong in sparring… then your theory must be exceptional.”

Jane stiffened, caught off guard by the directness. Her eyes widened slightly, but before she could reply, Astron added—

“Is that why this guy’s grades have been improving so much lately?”