Chapter 63: Olmo and Jasmine

Even though the culture was toxic, even though it hurt people and created suffering, it clearly served a purpose. A cold, calculated, strategic purpose.

And for the first time since arriving at the academy, Jelo wondered if he was wrong for questioning it. Maybe this was just how things had to be. Maybe there was no other way to forge the kind of strength humanity needed to survive in this new, dangerous world where monsters existed and aliens might return at any moment.

The thought sat uncomfortably in his mind as they continued walking back to their dormitories.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

_ _ _ _

Teacher Olmo leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath as he ran a hand through his hair. Across from him, Jasmine rested lightly against the edge of the desk, watching quietly, giving him space to speak. There was no formal urgency in the room, just the kind of quiet that allowed one to speak freely, to voice frustrations without interruption.

“I came across them today,” Olmo began, his voice low but firm. “A group of Class 2 students. They had some of the first-years cornered. They weren’t correcting them. They weren’t mentoring. They were punishing them.”

He shook his head slowly, the tension in his jaw evident. “It wasn’t subtle either. It was deliberate. The way they surrounded them, the way they forced them into position, it was clearly intended to intimidate and dominate.”

Jasmine remained silent, nodding slightly, letting him continue.

“I’ve been here long enough to know the academy has traditions,” Olmo said, leaning forward, elbows resting on the polished wood of his desk. “Traditions that encourage hierarchy, competition, and… fighting between ranks. I understand why they exist. The goal is to prepare students for the field, to build resilience, to teach them strength and discipline. But there’s a difference between discipline and cruelty, and lately, that line seems to be disappearing entirely.”

He pressed his fingers together, the frustration in his voice becoming clearer. “I’m tired of seeing this cycle repeat itself. I’m tired of walking into training halls and seeing the same bullying disguised as lessons. The academy keeps calling it ’tradition,’ ’preparation,’ but all I see are students being hurt unnecessarily. And it’s not teaching them real strength or respect, it’s teaching them fear, submission, and the belief that power comes from intimidating others.”

Olmo leaned back again, letting his hands fall to his lap. “There has to be a better way, Jasmine. A way to instill values, to teach skill and discipline without turning the younger students into victims, without normalizing cruelty.”

Teacher Jasmine leaned against the edge of Olmo’s desk, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She didn’t raise her voice, but there was a quiet firmness in her tone that made it clear she was not to be argued with lightly.

“You need to stop trying to fight what has already proven effective,” she said calmly. “You see the cruelty, the intimidation, the bullying, and it makes you uncomfortable. But discomfort doesn’t equal failure.” She paused, letting her words sink in.

“The academy’s harsh system, the hierarchy, the pressure, even the punishments you see as excessive, they’re all part of what has kept our planet safe all these years. Every generation of supers has been tested in this environment, and every generation has risen to meet the challenges that no ordinary society could withstand.”

Olmo shifted slightly in his chair, frowning, but Jasmine held his gaze, unwavering. “We don’t train teenagers to be well-adjusted citizens,” she continued. “We train them to be defenders. Powerful, decisive, capable of handling threats that would destroy most people without a second thought. That requires more than comfort, more than safety. It requires a system that forces them to endure pressure, to face adversity early, to understand what it means to win, to lose, and to survive.”

She let out a measured breath and leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the desk. “Results matter more than personal discomfort. The academy has produced decades of supers who have defended humanity from existential threats. The methods you question are the reason they are still standing. Your grievances, they’re valid from a human perspective, yes, but they do not carry enough weight to challenge rules and practices that have shaped generation after generation of strong defenders. The system works because it has to work, not because it’s comfortable, fair, or easy to endure.”

She straightened, her expression softening just enough to show understanding, but her voice remained firm. “You can’t change the rules just because you don’t like them. You can only work within them

Olmo leaned back in his chair again, letting out a long, slow sigh. His eyes fell to the polished surface of his desk, reflecting the overhead light. “Yes,” he said quietly, almost to himself at first, “I understand that. I truly do.” His fingers drummed lightly against the wood, a nervous rhythm that belied the firmness in his voice.

“But… if there was a way… if I could come up with another way to instill the same values, to teach discipline, skill, and resilience without turning students into victims, do you think the academy would agree?”

Jasmine tilted her head slightly, considering him carefully. “I… don’t know,” she admitted softly. “The administration is committed to tradition, and they see the results. They might be unwilling to experiment with a method that hasn’t been proven over decades. Changing that system would be difficult. It might even be impossible.”

She paused for a moment, letting her words hang in the quiet office. Then, as if sensing the weight of his frustration and doubt, she reached out and touched his arm gently. Her hand rested there for a moment, a grounding presence, warm and reassuring.

She looked directly into his eyes, her gaze steady, unflinching. And then she smiled. Not a playful smile, but one filled with understanding, solidarity, and quiet reassurance. “But no matter what,” she said softly, “I will always support you.”

Olmo felt a warmth spread through him that he hadn’t realized he needed. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and he returned her gaze, his own expression softening. After a long moment, he allowed himself a small smile. “Thank you,” he said simply, his voice carrying affection

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep